"The Ballad of Ser Martel"
Martel woke in a castle cold
one gray and wintry morn
his body wrapped in linen rags
his memories all forlorn.
He wandered maze-like corridors
and met a seamstress there.
She clothed him in shirt, pants, and boots,
tied back his long dark hair.
He met some gentle folk anon
and talked with them awhile.
Their memories were likewise gone,
and yet they spared a smile.
The castle, so forbidding once,
now showed a friendly scene,
and all beneath the watchful eye
of Vivienne, our Queen.
But lo! A villain entered then
to challenge Martel's bravery.
A snorting man with beady eyes --
his name was Victor Savory.
When Victor spoke against the Queen,
the man was but a fool.
Defend her honour Martel must,
and so he called a duel.
Just newly out of linens,
no memory of swordsplay,
Martel's strong limbs would have to fight
in but a week and a day.
So Martel practiced with his sword,
helped by friend Arrion
who was his second for the fight.
The duel arrived anon.
Martel and Victor entered, proud,
the Duelists' Practice Room,
and all the good folks gathered there
to hope for Victor's doom.
Shocked whispers spread throughout the crowd
about Ser Victor's old disgrace:
evicted by the Duellists
and now back in this honored place.
Ser Victor grunted rudely
and brandished a rusty blade,
a huge two-handed sword which
by his evil had been made.
Ser Martel blanched at Victor's skill,
but still he stood his ground.
And when the Chamberlain called the start
their footsteps were the only sound.
Then loud their swords together clanged
and hushed the crowd did fall,
for Good and Evil struggled there
before them in the Hall.
Then with a lunge, a feint, a twist,
with subtle movement of his wrist,
with one hand curled into a fist,
Ser Martel fought in wintry mist.
But Victor did his moment pick
to play a most dishonored trick
and struck Martel a mighty kick
to cost the hero's sword its nick.
'Twas not long after that foul deed
that Savory's sword found Martel's arm.
So Victor would the victor be,
though lacking mannered charm."
Then all throughout the castle rooms
the epic story flew
of Martel's bravery 'gainst his foe
when his sword skills were but new.
And all the gentles whispered then
about the coming day
when Martel's skill would grow so great
that he would win the fray.
For though he lost the battle there
on that cold wintry e'en,
his honored bravery won the war
for Vivienne, our Queen.