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The Queen of Air and Darkness
Oct. 18th, 2017 09:28 pmPohl Anderson
(Sir Bela of Eastmarch)
It was the ranger Arvid
Rode homeward through the hills
Among the shadowy shiverleafs
Along the chiming Rills
The Dance weaves under the Firethorn
The night wind whispered ‘round him
With scent of brock and rue
Both moons rose high above high
And hills awash with dew
The Dance weaves under the Firethorn
And dreaming of that woman
Who waited ’neath the sun,
He stopped, amazed by starlight
And so he was undone
For there beneath a barrow
That bulked athwart a moon,
The Outling folk were dancing
In glass and golden shoon
The Outling folk were dancing
Like water, wind and fire
To ghostly ringing harpsong
And never did they tire.
The Dance weaves under the Firethorn
To Arvid she came striding
From where she watched the dance
The Queen of Air and Darkness
With starlight in her glance.
With starlight, love, and terror
In her immortal eye
The Queen of Air and Darkness
Cried softly under sky.
“Light down, you ranger Arvid
And join the Outling folk.
You need no more be human
Which is a heavy yoke.”
The Dance weaves under the Firethorn
He dared to give her answer
"I may do naught but run.
A maiden waits me, dreaming
In lands beneath the sun
And likewise wait me comrades
And tasks I would not shirk
For what is ranger Arvid
If he lays down his work?
So cast your spells, you Outling
And wreak your wrath on me.
Though maybe you can slay me
You'll not make me unfree."
The Dance weaves under the Firethorn
The Queen of Air and Darkness
Stood wrapped about with fear
And northlight-flares and beauty
He dared not look too near.
Until she laughed like harpsong
And said to him in scorn
"I do not need a magic
To make you always mourn.
I send you home with nothing
Except your memory
Of moonlight, Outling music,
Night breezes, dew, and me.
And that will run behind you
A shadow on the sun,
And that will lie beside you
When every day is done.
In work and play and friendship
Your grief will strike you dumb
For thinking what you are and
What you might have become
Your dull and foolish woman
Treat kindly as you can.
Go home now ranger Arvid
Set free to be a man!"
The Dance weaves under the Firethorn
In flickering and laughterThe Outling folk were gone.
He stood alone by moonlight
And wept until the dawn.
The Dance weaves under the Firethorn
