Moving “House”

Colyne Stewart, July AS XXXVII (2003)

For Berend, Brandt, Eirik, Galiana and Mahault

Eighteen months ago we had never met

And yesterday I saw you all

In the dining room of our new house

In the kitchen, on the porch

Glasses in hands, smiling and laughing

After many hours of hard work

Sweating, lugging, under burning sun

Now mingling with our parents and brothers

And I came to a realization

Though we do not have a name, nor device, nor charter of ideals

We are a House: a House of Spirit, a House of Friends

And what is more

A House of Family.

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 the van der Eychs, Upon the Occasion of their Authorizations

Colyne Stewart, July AS XXXVII (2003)

On sunny day of blasting heat

Two fighters came to prove their worth

In armour made by their own hand

Their faces shining bright with mirth

For long her training for this day

Hard hitting pell-poles for their crimes

He, whom Aaron thought a Duke

Had been in armour but three times

Both raised their swords in a salute

Both bravely fought and whirled and spun

Both brought their weapons crashing down

Upon the head of laughing Gun

Two new fighters for the Isen

Both born in Glory, shaped that day

To Berend and Mahault the fierce!

Great praises do I herein say.