March 20th, 2011


Awake, Calontir

On Monday evening at Gulf Wars, I was chatting with the Fyrdman Auxilius, known to many of you in the past as Lothos, and he expressed an eagerness to hear the war trumpet.  Now throughout the quarter century that I have used it to wake the army, that is not the typical reaction I receive. But his words, paraphrased, were these: I had lived five years in Hawai’i. They told me it was Paradise, and I could see how some might think that. The scenery is beautiful. The weather is serene. I am a good surfer, and that gathers me some attention. But it is not enough. They have no trumpet call in the morning. They have nothing like the camaraderie of Calontir at War. So I had to come home.

The next morning in the shower, before rousing the army to prepare for opening ceremony, the chorus came to me. The rest of the song came fairly quickly as well later in the week. As I explained to the army on Thursday morning at muster as I debuted it, “Without knowing it, I have been working on this song for twenty five years. I just started writing it this week.”


                                                                       Awake, Calontir
                                                                Andrixos Seljukroctonis 

In the first light come daybreak comes grim martial warning:
Muster in armor in less than an hour.
Last evening’s late revels cost double in morning,
But still shall we show the Gold Falcon’s power.

                 Chorus: Awake Calontir and arise from your slumber.
                               Take up your scutum, your longsword, your bow.
                               No sweeter dance music than the sound of war’s trumpet.
                               How far did you travel to hear this horn blow?

 Since Asgeirr was Sovereign have I discharged this duty,
Rousing the army from warm comfy bed.
The notes of my trumpet are no thing of beauty,
And countless the shoes have been thrown at my head.

 A fyrdman decamped for a tropical Eden
On warm salty waves on a board would he roam.
But Paradise gave him not a thing he was needin’.
He heard the war trumpet and made his way home.

Awake to the war call and answer the muster.
March to the castle the field and the town.
Add your sword’s shimmer to Gold Falcon’s luster.
Heed the war trumpet and fight with your Crown.

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