grayness

Lost & Found


...Part one...

Eight riders rode out that brisk Autumn day
Grim and determined, they set on their way
And each had a reason- and some more than one,
As they rode to the East, in the new morning's sun.

Anders, the oldest, a sailor was he,
Who'd spent most of his life far out on the sea.
Uncouth was his manner, unkempt was his beard
And short was his temper- a man to be feared.

Carron, the strongest, was a blacksmith by trade,
With barely a glance your steel he'd grade;
Keen of eye, quick of wit, and most strong of limb-
He'd sell you the moon if you'd listen to him.

Eggard, the dandy, was too fond of strong drink,
But with drunkard's odd courage -from no danger he'd shrink.
(At least none he could see his way clear to defeat...)
In his track followed stories I'm loathe to repeat.

Gebbert was quiet, and seldom he spoke,
He constantly grimaced as from a wry joke.
He kept close his crossbow, and ready his darts-
Their odd tint giving hints at a poisoner's arts.

Issus was first of bold brothers two-
Of all of the riders the fastest he flew.
Born to the saddle, he mastered his steed
Using just the right pains to get the most speed.

Kossus, the second, was largest of all
Standing in at well over three axe-handles tall.
In all things that mattered he let Issus lead,
And guarded his own thoughts quite closely indeed.

Morl was a tracker, a trapper, and hard-
Tougher than cobbles in some castle's courtyard
He well knew the trails and well he would guide-
As long as it suited his purpose to ride.

And then came the last- a stranger in brown
Who'd come- at the last- to ride from the town.
Well cloaked was his body, his face most the same,
The only hint given- Ehrfels was his name.
...

So you've met now our riders- what secrets they hide!
Perhaps the next time you'll learn why they say that they ride...