Othar's Charge

©Robert Fitzmorgan (Gordon Scott Fridenberg)

The call went out for fighting men, The warriors of the star.
To battle bold Trimaris they came from near and far.
They gave their hearts. They gave their blood. They gave their very best.
The challenge it was great but they were equal to the test.

The Warriors of Ansteorra are heroes brave and bold.
Many hero's deeds were done that day.  Too many to be told.
It was a long day of hard fighting, one battle yet remained.
One challenge to be conquered if victory would be gained.

Deep in the wood three banners stood, two must be held to win the fight.
The day was long, the warriors weary, but their hearts were strong and spirits light.
The numbers were against them by at least two score or more.
But their courage was undaunted.  They'd beat these odds before.

Each Kingdom was determined to hold it's banner at all cost.
It was the banner in the middle where the battle would be won or lost.
The battle was long and weariness took a heavy toll.
The time was quickly coming when they must move to seize the goal.

Trimaris held the center banner.  Victory was in their grasp.
A wall of warriors stood to guard it, a wall they knew we could not pass.
Ansteorra gathered at it's banner, weariness on every face.
They saw the great host of Trimaris.  They saw the wall they had to face.

Then Othar spoke unto the host, "listen to me one and all."
"Listen to me while I tell you how we're going to break that wall!"
He spoke of charges he had made, of Shield-Walls shattered they were told.
He spoke and told how Ansteorra broke the walls in days of old.

He spoke and taught and planned that charge till every warrior knew their part.
He spoke of Ansteorra's glories till a Lion roared in every heart.
The time had come to end that battle, one last charge to seize the day!
Every heart fixed on the banner, less than a hundred feet away.  

They hit that wall with a lion's spirit!  Ricardo! was their battle cry!
Every warrior was of one heart, to win the banner or fall and die.
The foemen could not face their fury and fell beneath their fierce onslaught.
And Ansteorra Seized that Banner, the prize for which they all had fought!

But victory had come too soon, Trimaris' host was strong and large.
Before the battle cry was ended there was time for one Trimaran charge.
Fighting fiercely our heroes fell.  But many foemen led their way.
And no Trimaran will ever forget the foe he faced upon that day.

Robert's note: One of the pleasures of being a Bard is that you can try and preserve those special moments at an evant, and share them with others. The 'Othar" in this poem is Othar Morganson of Stargate.