The Wolf Pack Came South

By THLaird Colyne Stewart, August AS 50 (2015)

The wolf pack came south from the northlands,

The wolf pack came down for the king,

The wolf pack came down from the northlands,

They came down their axes to swing.

The band of ten men went out onto the field,

To meet all in combat, Queen’s honour they’d wield,

The brave band of ten fought and bled in the fray,

In all but one battle they carried the day.

The wolf pack came south from the northlands,

The wolf pack came down for the king,

The wolf pack came down from the northlands,

They came down their axes to swing.

The sky rippled scarlet, the warriors sang,

As swords upon shields in glad victory rang,

Our Monarchs stand tall, raised up high by the throng,

And let the world know that the wolves won in song.

The wolf pack came south from the northlands,

The wolf pack came down for the king,

The wolf pack came down from the northlands,

They came down their axes to swing.

The wolf pack came south from the northlands,

The wolf pack came down for the king,

The wolf pack came down from the northlands,

They came down their axes to swing.

At Pennsic War 2015, Ealdormere’s Unbelted team won the ten-man tournament for the first time.

Guarding the Hearth

By THLaird Colyne Stewart, July AS 50 (2015

I cannot hear the sounds of drums

That drive my kin down south

I do not see the pennants fly

On wind of dragon’s mouth

I do not feel the heady thrums

Of nerves in battle’s thrall

I do not taste the dusty sky

That blows throughout it all

I do not smell exotic scents

Or smoke of open fires

I do not, for I have not gone

Down with my fellow squires

And yet I do, I feel, I sense,

I dance the Pennsic score

For sure as sun comes with the dawn

My spirit is at War.

Napping War Point

By THLaird Colyne Stewart, July AS 50 (2015)

Oh for my Queen I lay my head

Upon a pillow in my bed

As though this year I am not there

At Pennsic in the summer air

At Queen’s command I doze and nap

With sleeping dog’s head in my lap

Across the land we slumber all

For to our Queen we are in thrall

At royal word we go to sleep

Swift into dreams so strange and deep

I do my part for kingdom fair

All while I clutch my Septy bear

During Peace Week of Pennsic War 2015, Queen Liðr decreed that the Tuesday was Royal Ealdormere Nap Day. This decree was shared via Facebook, where I asked if we were trying to win a war point for napping. Which led to this.

To Baron Sir Siegfried Brandbeorn, Upon his Induction into the Order of Chivalry

(Pennsic War XXXII, August 2003)

Laird Colyne Stewart

Upon a brooding cliff awash in foam,

Amid the tall trees thick and verdant green,

The fiery bird of lore there makes its home,

To be born again in smoke and steam;

Once perched upon the old Duke’s sturdy arm,

The phoenix flies unfettered, bold and free;

Its claws are gentle or they can cause harm

As sure as flashing swords of chivalry;

Bright blue, stark white, its regal wings stretched wide

To shelter those over whome’er it flies,

To sally forth with knights whene’er they ride,

To be reborn again whene’er it dies;

A bird who’s brilliant plumage is so fair,

A symbol of one man, one knight, so rare.

Septentria at War (War Season XXXI)

Colyne Stewart June-Aug XXXVI (2002)

From northern lands came Cynred bold

His spear at hand, his sword to hold

The badger from his den did ride

For word had come the Tygre died

Gaerwen led the scouts so quick

And archers with their arrows lick’d

Septentria rode south that day

All bless’d by the northern fey

The Dragon ‘croached on Eastern land

The Tygre called with furry hand

The Wolf descended to the East

Invited Bear to join the feast

The battle met in barren lands

And there two mighty armies stand

Septentria is in their midst

Our mighty fighters of the lists

Cynred leads us into battle

Cutting foemen down like cattle

The mighty Baron of the north

Whom Bards and Heralds shall call forth

Of stature small and heart immense

Of axe and helmet, shield of dents

A song upon his noble lips

Upon his sword red blood down drips

He is the one who leads us in

Through all the shouting and the din

The battles won and rarely lost

With him are all our futures tossed

As Cynred shoots the foemen down

Gaerwen of the never-frown

Does gleam his arrows from the grass

She the comely northern lass

From snowy lands she calls her home

She saddles up her horse to roam

Traveling to field and shire

Comfort found about a fire

She loves the land, it loves her back

Of love and patience not she lacks

And when she’s been down in her cups

She just may hike her tunics up

She who inspires all of us

Who march behind her to the tuss

She with the heart of Giantess

Our most beloved Baroness

Inspired by our nobles true

A Champion has come south too

A val’rous Lady I decree

Armed with a wyrm come from the sea

Her name you all know and honour

She with all our skill along her

For when Seonag takes the field

Septentria shall never yield

In tournament she met them all

Who with sword did come to call

And though she did not win the day

The Champion’s collar she took away

Her honour and her charity

Which on the field’s no rarity

With words of praise for all her foes

No utterance of her own woes

Led our great Thegn and Baroness

To her with copper collar dress

Now she our bravest Champion

She who inspires us to win

And with her trained and others too

To prepare us for battle s’true

Brandt the quick-foot, Brandt the swift-swing

Showed us how to make foe’s heads ring

With raven shield and shining suns

He leads the charge and swiftly runs

So fast we are all left behind

Courage greater is hard to find

He trains and teaches not just arms

He knows the ways of wood and farms

And armour he can help to build

For his keep is with it filled

He teaches till his students can

Teach others and so fill the land

With armoured fighters for the fyrd

With love and loyalty all stirr’d

To the front, his voice raised high

His eyes upon the blue-white sky

Is Hector of the plaid and skull

Who sings like dove and fights like bull

His words inspire love or fear

And people gather just to hear

And in the War he leads the way

For with him we shall win the day

We the rank and file army

March together in harmony

Shield to shield and sword to sword

Lands to cross and rivers ford

‘Fore our battle’s finally met

We charge into the foemen set

And all pure white and all pure red

The brave and loyal fyrd men bled

But not a one will turn away

Not a retreat will sound that day

Although we may fall to a man

The ursine banner still will stand

We will not flee, nor leave the field

Until Thegn’s honour is fulfilled

We are the army of our lands

We are the bearmen of red hands

Septentria shall always be

A land of truth and love and free

So long as people such as these

Live, love and play amongst our trees

We are the northmen, we the Bear

We are the heart of Ealdormere

And I the Bard now rest my pen

To stand and hold my sword again.

Mahault at Hadrian’s Wall (Pennsic XXXI)

Colyne Stewart, Aug. AS XXXVII (2003)

At Hadrian’s Wall forces met

With great shields locked and long swords set

Columns marched quickly tot heir death

With beaded sweat and hitching breath.

Iron Companions all in red

Were by Thegn Cynred boldly led

Into the breaches thick with flies

Feasting upon those that had died.

As War Doors smashed into the foe

A wave of armoured fighters flowed

And then Mahault, Isen-sister,

Was lifted, turned, foot all twisted,

Surrounded by Atlantians

Who yelled to her above the din

“Are you injured? Show us no fear,”

All bending close so she could hear

And lifting her upon her shield

Like a Queen carried from the field.

Caught now by the Dragon enemy

She found they held no enmity

As they watered her and fed her

Gave her hugs instead of murder.

A Midlands Duke then came to stare

To see what caused such ruckus there.

He introduced himself and claimed

He was more known than Finnvarr’s fame

To which Mahault did bold retort,

“I know Finnvarr, but of you naught.”

A chastised Duke then slunk away

And though his side would win the day

Mahault returned to Eald’mere earth

With this tale to cause us much mirth,

For Eanor of Amberhall, Khan’s Champion and General of Ealdormere (Pennsic XXXI)

Colyne Stewart, Aug XXXVII (2003)

From Halls of Amber strides a Rose

A Duchess filled with poise and grace

A Champion with sword of steel

Khan’s duty etched upon her face

Stands before the scarlet flag

With Laurel wings and floating Crown

Of Death an angel for the Mid

Who called her righteous fury down

In the barren woods she led our troops

East forces flitting through the trees

All banners three fell to Her Grace

The Dragon beat down to its knees

Her work thought done by another

But Golden Bee does not complain

She led us for love of duty

And not for any praise or fame

She strides throughout our northern land

She duty-bound to serve us all

Our Kingdom gifted to be home

To fair Eanor of Amberhall

Ealdormere’s Muster in the Rain

(Opening Ceremonies, Pennsic War XXXI)

Colyne Stewart, Aug XXXVII (2003)

A drop of rain can’t stop our flood

Our voices raised against the thunder

A mustering line hundreds strong

Too strong to ever break asunder

We walk the hill awash in mud

First to arrive upon the field

Clothes hang damp but not our spirits

With fortitude our folk are dealed

“Court’s now indoors!” the heralds cry

And so we march the long way back

Singing still our joyous refrains

The howling of our wolfen pack

Within the barn dark puddles pool

As we lift wooden rafters high

Our bards to lead us in our song

That makes the hardy weep and cry

We are the land that always sings

And prouder I could never be

To come from northern Ealdormere

To be a Wolf that’s strong and free