Gunnar for Bryndis
In rude far-off land did I spend my youth,
Learned value of sword-stroke , learned value of pledge.
How each one is stronger when bolstered by truth;
For sake of sweet Bryndis I’ll keep sharp its edge.
With Fate as my steersman I’ve seen many realms,
Swore oaths to my warlord, bright blade in my hand.
It’s fed many ravens, it’s crushed many helms.
But now it guards Bryndis and the salt-sea-wrapped land.
In search of rich treasure I left northern home.
I cast in my lot with the oath-bound so bold.
At Miklegard’s steading, which they call New Rome,
Found I there sweet Bryndis, more valued than gold.
Men gather around me to learn of the sword.
The price of their schooling is fealty oath
To serve well my Lady; first rule of their lord.
For in honoring Bryndis, they honor us both.
When Nobles were summoned to Martinmas Field,
My sword- arm was ruthless, my mind it was keen.
The blows of my foemen fell weak on my shield.
I won heart’s desire: to make Bryndis Queen.
©Steven Boyd, 2012
At Martinmas Moot (Fall Crown Tourney) in Trimaris last year, I wandered down to the field half-way through the proceedings, and saw that my friend Duke Gunnar was doing well. I tossed off a bit of encouragement, "If you win, I will write a song for your wife." By day's end, I had a new song that needed to be written.
Gunnar is a big fan of "Leaving Song", and it has erned me many meals and much friendship in his hall through the years, so I cast this in a similar vein. In my mind was the image of Trimaris, wrapped by three seas, as the Golden Horn.