My Lady’s eyes, each glance I prize,
As gentle as a dove,
And would that I could tell her why
I dare not speak my love.
Too high, as far as any star
Her station is to mine,
Too wide that space to e’er embrace,
Beneath her I repine.
(Instrumental)
Shadowstalker
It was just a week till Sovven, and the nights were turning chill
And the battle turned to stalemate, double-bluff, and feint and drill,
When a shadow drifted northward, just a shadow, nothing more.
No one noticed that the shadows all grew darker than before.
No one noticed, while the shadows seemed to creep into the heart,
But from then the fight for freedom seemed a fool’s quest from the start.
All the hopes that they had cherished seemed unreasoned and naive
Nothing worth the strength to pray for, or to strive for, or believe.
And the shadows stole the sunlight from the brightest autumn day,
As they sang a song of bleakness that touched every heart that heard
As they whispered words of hopelessness, all courage fled away,
And they wove a smothering blanket over all that lived and stirred.
Herald Vanyel came upon them, and he sensed a subtle wrong,
And there was some magic working; deeply hidden, yes, but strong.
And it moved and worked in secret, like a poison in the vein
Like a poison meant to weaken, this was magic meant to drain.
Herald Vanyel saw the Shadows, and they turned their wiles on him
For one moment even he began to feel his spirit dim—
But he saw their secret evil, and he swore e’er he was done
He would stalk and slay these Shadows, and destroy them, one by one.
Herald Vanyel, Shadow Stalker, hunted Shadows to their doom
They turned all their powers upon him, turned away from other men
And although they strove to take him, he unwove their web of gloom.
So the Shadows fled his anger, their creator sought again.
Herald Vanyel faced the Singer who had sung them into life
And she sang to him of grief and loss that cut him like a knife.
And she sang to him of self-hate, and she wove a net of pain
With her songs of woe and hopelessness bent to be Vanyel’s bane.
“So now what is there to strive for?” was the song she sang to him.
And the shadow came upon his heart, the world grew gray and dim.
But the Singer of the Shadow did not know the foe she fought,
Nor how dear he held his duty, nor by what pain power was bought.
Herald Vanyel looked upon her, and he saw through her disguise
And she strove then to seduce him into death or madness sweet.
Herald Vanyel looked within him, and he saw her songs were lies,
And he gathered up his magic then, her powers to defeat.
Herald Vanyel raised his golden voice and sang of life and light,
Of the first cry of a baby, of the silver stars of night.
Herald Vanyel sang of wisdom, sang of courage, sang of love,
Of the earth’s sweet soil beneath him, of the vaulting sky above,
Sang of healing, sang of growing, sang of joy and hope and dreams,
And the Singer of the Shadows felt the death of all her schemes.
It was then she tried to flee him, but his song and magic spell
Struck her down and held her pinioned and she faltered, and she fell.
Then the Singer of the Shadows saw her Shadows shatter there,
Saw her lies unmade before her, saw her darkness turned to day
And how empty and how petty was the spirit then laid bare—
Like her Shadows then she shattered, and in silence passed away.
Windrider Unchained
Windrider, fettered, imprisoned, and pinioned,
Wing-clipped by magic, his power full drained,
Valdemar’s Heir is defeated and captive,
With his Companion by Darklord enchained.
Darklord of shadows his fetters is weaving,
Binds him in darkness as deep as despair,
Mocks at his anger and laughs at his weeping,
“Where is your strength now, oh Valdemar’s Heir?”
Darklord has left them by shadows encumbered,
Darshay and Windrider trapped in his gloom,
Deep in his prisons, past hope, past believing,
Heir and Companion, will this be your tomb?
Out of the shadows another draws nearer,
Out of the twilight steals one furtive light.
Shadows dance pain, while the Light sings despairing,
Drawn here by Darshay and Windrider’s plight.
Power new-won have the Singer and Dancer,
Power to shatter their curses at last—
Power that also could free the sad captives;
Power to break the bonds holding them fast.
Heart speaks to heart in the depths of the darkness
Grief calls to grief, and they falter, afraid—
Why should they sacrifice all for these strangers?
Then new-won compassion sends them on to aid.
Dancer in Shadows, she weeps as she dances,
Dancing, unmaking the shadow-born bands.
Sunsinger now through tears gives up his power—
Sings back the magic to Windrider’s hands.
Spent now, the twain unseen fall into shadow,
Gifted to strangers all that they had gained.
Darklord returns, and by fear is confounded—
Flees the avenger, Windrider unchained!
Demonsbane
Along a road in Hardorn, the place called Stony Tor
A fearful band of farmers flees Karsite Border war.
A frightened band of farmers, their children, and their wives,
Seeks refuge from a tyrant, who wants more than their lives.
Now up rides Herald Vanyel. “Why then such haste?” says he.
“Now who is it pursuing, whose anger do you flee?
For you are all of Hardorn, why seek you Valdemar?
Is Festil no protection? Bide all his men too far?”
“Oh, Vanyel, Herald Vanyel, we flee now for our lives,
Lord Nedran would enslave us, our children and our wives—
He’d give our souls to demons, our bodies to his men.
King Festil has not heeded, or our peril does not ken.”
Now up speaks Herald Vanyel. “The Border is not far—
But you are all of Hardorn, and not of Valdemar.
You are not Randale’s people—can call not on his throne—
But damned if I will see you left helpless on your own!”
So forth goes Herald Vanyel, and onward does he ride.
On Stony Tor he waits then, Yfandes at his side.
With Nedran’s men approaching, he calls out from on high,
“You shall not pass. Lord Nedran! I shall not let you by!”
Now Herald Vanyel only stands blocking Nedran’s way
“Now who are you, fool nothing, that you dare to tell me nay?”
Now up speaks Herald Vanyel in a voice like brittle glass;
“The Herald-Mage called Vanyel—and I say you shall not pass!”
Now there stands great Lord Nedran, and behind him forty men,
Beside him is his wizard—but he pales, and speaks again—
“So you are Herald Vanyel�
��but this place is not your land.
So heed me, Herald Vanyel; turn aside and hold your hand.”
“Let be; I’ll give you silver, and I shall give you gold,
And I shall give you jewels fair that sparkle bright and bold,
And I shall give you pearls, all the treasures of the sea,
If you will step aside here, and leave these fools to me.”
“What need have I of silver more than sweet Yfandes here?
And all the gold I cherish is sunlight bright and clear.
The only jewel I treasure’s a bright and shining star,
And I will protect the helpless even outside Valdemar.”
“Now I shall give you beauty, slaves of women and of men,
And I shall give you power as you’ll never see again,
And I shall give you mansions and I shall give you land,
If you will turn aside here, turn aside and hold your hand.”
“Now beauty held in bondage is beauty that is lost.
And land and mansions blood-bought come at too high a cost.
And power I have already—all power is a jade—
So turn you back, Lord Nedran, if of me you are afraid!”
Lord Nedran backs his stallion; the wizard he comes nigh.
“Prepare yourself, bold Vanyel, for you shall surely die!”
The wizard calls his demons, the demons he commands,
And Vanyel, Herald Vanyel, only raises empty hands.
The wizard calls his demons, the sky above turns black.
The demons strike at Vanyel, he stands and holds them back.
The demons strike at Vanyel, they strike and hurt him sore,
But Vanyel stands defiant, to raise his hands once more.
The sky itself descending upon bare Stony Tor
Now hides the awful battle. The watchers see no more.
The wizard shouts in triumph—too soon he vents his mirth.
For Vanyel calls the lightning, and smites him to the earth!
The clouds of black have lifted; upon the barren ground
Stands Vanyel hurt, but victor, the demons tied and bound.
He looks down on Lord Nedran; his eyes grow cold and bleak—
“Now shall I give you, Nedran, the power that you seek—”
Now Vanyel frees the demons, and Nedran screams with fear,
He sets them on the Karsites, who had first brought them here.
He sets them on the Karsites, and on the Karsite land.
They look down on Lord Nedran. They do not stay their hand.
Now Vanyel calls the farmers. “Go tell you near and far,
How thus are served the tyrants who would take Valdemar.
I am the bane of demons, who flees them I defend.
Thus Heralds serve a foeman—thus Heralds save a friend!”
The Shadow-Lover
Shadow-Lover, never seen by day,
Only deep in dreams do you appear.
Wisdom tells me I should turn away,
Love of mist and shadows, all unclear—
Nothing can I hold of you but thought
Shadow-Lover, mist and twilight wrought.
Shadow-Lover, comfort me in pain.
Love, although I never see your face,
All who’d have me fear you speak in vain—
Never would I shrink from your embrace
Shadow-Lover, gentle is your hand
Never could another understand.
Shadow-Lover, soothe me when I mourn
Mourn for all who left me here alone,
When my grief is too much to be borne,
When my burdens crushing-great have grown,
Shadow-Lover, I cannot forget—
Help me bear the burdens I have yet.
Shadow-Lover, you alone can know
How I long to reach a point of peace
How I fade with weariness and woe
How I long for you to bring release.
Shadow-Lover, court me in my dreams
Bring the peace that suffering redeems.
Shadow-Lover, from the Shadows made,
Lead me into Shadows once again.
Where you lead I cannot be afraid,
For with you I shall come home again—
In your arms I shall not fear the night.
Shadow-Lover, lead me into light.
Magic’s Price
Every year Companions Choose, as they have done before,
The Chosen come with shining hopes to learn the Herald’s lore.
And every year the Heralds sigh, and give the same advice—
“All those who would hold Magic’s Power must then pay Magic’s Price.”
Oh there was danger in the North—that’s all that Vanyel knew.
An enemy of power dark sought Heralds out—then slew.
But only those with Magic’s Gift were slain by silent rage—
Till Vanyel of them all was left the only Herald-Mage.
Yes, from the North the danger came, beyond the Border far—
The Forest did not stay Dark Death, nor did the mountains bar.
And Vanyel cried—“We die, my liege, and know not why nor where!
So send me North, my King, that I may find the answers there!”
Then North went Vanyel—not alone, though ’twas of little aid
A Bard was like to be to him; and Stefen was afraid—
He feared that he would fail the quest, a burden prove to be—
Dared not let Vanyel go alone to face dark sorcery.
So out beyond the Border there, beyond the forest tall,
Into the mountains deep they went that stood an icy wall—
To find the wall had cracked and found there was a passage new,
A path clean cut that winding ran a level course and true.
This path was wrought by magecraft; Vanyel knew that when he saw
The mountains hewn by power alone, a power he felt with awe—
But to what purpose? Something moved beyond them on the trail;
They watched and hid—and what they found there turned them cold and pale.
An army moved in single file, by magic cloaked and hid—
An army moved on Valdemar that marched as they were bid—
A darker force than weaponry controlled the men and place,
For Vanyel looked—and Vanyel knew an ancient evil’s face.
Then Vanyel turned to Stefen, and he told the Bard to ride
To warn the folk of Valdemar—“They call me ‘Magic’s Pride.’
It’s time I earned the name—now go! I’ll hold this army back
Until the arms of Valdemar can counter their attack.”
So Stefen rode, and so it is no living tongue can tell
How Vanyel fought, nor what he wrought, nor how the Herald fell.
The Army came—but not in time to save the Herald-Mage,
Although the pass was scorched and cracked by magic power’s rage.
They fought the Dark Ones back although they came on wave by wave.
No trace they found of Vanyel, nor of his Companion brave—
They only found the focus-stone, the gift of Stefen’s hand—
Now blackened, burned, and shattered by the power that saved their land.
They only found the foemen who into the woods had fled
And each one by unseen, uncanny powers now lay dead.
As if the Forest had somehow bestirred itself that day—
Had Vanyel with his dying breath commanded trees to slay?
And still the forest of the North guards Valdemar from harm—
For Vanyel’s dying curse is stronger fa
r than mortal arm.
And every year the Chosen come, despite the old advice—
“All those who would be Magic’s Pride must then pay Magic’s Price.”
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The Last Herald-Mage Trilogy Page 112