The Dragon-Slayer

This is an epic poem based on a story referred to in Trice, my fourth novel. It actually was more like a novella, at a mere wimpy 30,000 words. The last few verses of this poem are crucial to the plot and finally I decided I needed to write the whole thing, and here it is. You can read Trice on my website: here.

Daltor was a hero bold
Fast his thoughts and bright his sword
Swift his smiles, slow his frowns
An easy laugh he passed around
A song was ready from his heart
On any quest he'd gladly start
He’d neither home nor bride nor kin
The forest was his favorite inn
He drove the monsters from Delsward
Bad men fell beneath his sword
He drove the dragons from the glen
But cared not for the praise of men
No reward would he accept.
Nor would he take the men's respect
'All in a day of work!' said he,
And go on working merrily.
He earned a might reputation
For his strength and glad elation.
Monsters and robbers fled at his name,
Mighty his laugh and his sword and his fame.

One day a wizard grim and dreary
Said, 'of this hero I'm woefully weary.
It's time that of Daltor we all could be rid
It’s time that his power forever was hid.
A spell I will speak and a curse I will lay
This hero will meet his end far away.
A quest I will give him that will send him so far
He’ll never come back to bother us more.'
The wizard chuckled and rubbed his long hands
And set about quickly to finish his plans.
The spell his spoke was long and dreadful
The curse that he laid on Daltor was fearful.
The hero stopped, wherever he stood
Shaken by dread not yet understood.
The wizard sent longing for lands far away
A longing that grew, day after day.
Desire ate at Daltor's mind
His thoughts were consumed with the lands he might find.
He lost his laugh and his ready smile
He spent his days now being idle
He cared no more for his love and his work
Evil creatures crept back into the murk.
His sword grew dull and his thoughts grew dim
The land around seemed bleak and grim.
“I'll stay no more!' at last he cried,
'The mountains beckon, so tall and wide,
Beyond them I'm sure the land is fair
The trees are green and there's sweet air
I long to walk in fields that are golden
And to be done with monsters and dragons!'
Then he turned away from his land
Heedless of cries from woman or man
Shunning their need as he hadn't before
Forsaking their flocks and the hearth and door
At last he reached the end of the plain
Where stood great summits he would gain
He stood and looked without regret
All his brave deeds he had forgot
Until a cry from a shepherd maid
Made him turn at what she said
She told Daltor that a dragon had come
“My father is dead and the sheep are gone.
I know that you are brave and strong
That you’ve a sharp sword and a ready song
My brother is there, if he isn't dead too
Ah, sir, you must help me! You know what to do!'
Daltor looked at the mountains and sighed.
“I'm leaving,” he said, scarce hearing her cries
“I'm finished with dragons and all of their ways...”
“Heaven curse you for cowardice this day!”
The maiden cried and snatched his sword
“My father's dead and you, a lord,
Just stand and say that you cannot!
You can't? I say that you will not!
If you will not than on your head
Be my blood when I am dead!”
Than she turned and ran away
To where her father silent lay
Daltor followed her angry flight
Suddenly knowing that all was not right.
The maiden roused the dragon's sleep
He saw the blood and the slaughtered sheep.
The maid with his sword ran up to the beast
The monster turned, still full from the feast.
The Dragon-Slayer's hands turned cold
The girl was fearless, strong and bold,
But for a dragon she was no match.
The monster had an easy catch.
Daltor screamed and tried to say,
“I will not let you die this way!
Give me my sword! I'll take the challenge!
I'm not such a coward as you imagined!”
But it was too late. With a horrible cry
The dragon belched fire and smoke filled the sky.
When the smoke cleared the maiden was dead.
The hero regretted the words he had said.
But his grief made him angrier still
He picked up his sword, full ready to kill.
The blade was red hot but he stood the pain
The dragon stood ready for battle again.
But Daltor knew what he was about
He avoided the flames from the dragon's snout
Until he stabbed him straight in the eye
The dragon fell dead with one last cry.
Then Daltor wept for the words of the maid
But her brother stood there and heard what was said.
“If you had come sooner she would not have died.”
“I tried.” said the dragon-slayer, “I tried.”
“I know you are cursed.” the shepherd replied,
“I can see it in your eyes.
Stay with me until you are strong
Until you regain your laugh and your song.”

The wizard saw that the spell was not working
That Daltor soon would be back to his hunting.
So he sent a poison into his veins,
A poison that on the dragon was blamed.
Daltor grew pale and sick and the yearning
To cross the mountains was swiftly returning.
He could not fight two curses at once
The wizard smiled, knowing as much.
At last he said, “I can stay here no longer.
I must cross the mountains where I can grow stronger.
My choice is to go or to stay here and die...”
His friend hid his face and tried not to cry.
“Perhaps over there in the fair lands I'll find
Who has this terrible hold on my mind.
And then I'll return for I can't leave you long
This land, with its monsters, is where I belong.”
So doubly cursed and marked by death
The Hero rode into the west.
Before he left these words he said,
“Love has not died and is not dead.
As long as there is love there's life,
And hope continues through the strife.”
What he meant no one can tell
But all throughout the land there fell
The rumor that the brave Daltor,
The Hero, would walk the vale once more.
Though monsters prowl and wizards scheme
They know they cannot reign supreme.
For somewhere in the distant West
They know Daltor's love does not rest.