He spied her in the greenwood quite by chance, one soft, bright summer day,
as he was riding to the East to muster on the Saxon Shore.
She stood in silence by a burial cairn beside the hollow way;
as he approached; she swiftly spun; drew sword,
his progress to waylay;
and, crouching like a wildcat; she hissed warning that he should obey
her command to swift disarm; and most imprudent to ignore.
He knew full well, he needs beware this Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
Garbed in breeches, boots, and leathern Jack, as if she rode to War;
T'was certain-sure she held not sum of summers beyond ten, and eight;
Her eyes were brown, her hair was russet; and about her throat, she wore
a shimmering, plaited Golden Torc; the like of which he'd seen before.
A Cypher, Royal; and imperious was the sentiment she bore
as she held him, sword-point to his throat, whilst she resolved his fate.
With wry smile, he chose to forbear this Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
Her eyes were cold; her sword-tip wavered less than single breadth of hair
from his throat.
A breath too sturdy, and this girl would spit him, neat.
And in her eyes, he saw writ plain, that he would die if he should dare
dispute, beyond a single heartbeat; her advantage, standing there;
and so, he scarce drew breath at all, yet held her gaze with clement stare.
T'would be no hardship to disarm her, yet he chose to be discreet.
Brave, was this one, beyond compare; this Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
Her voice was was calm; her words were Iron;
"What business have you here, this day?"
He smiled; "I ride for Camulodunum to join my squadron there.
Artorius, the Dux Bellorum musters warriors in array
to drive the Saxon raiders back into the sea in dread dismay.
Icily, she whispered, "Vortigern," her word sharp with inveigh.
"I have a score to settle there; so I shall join this bold affair."
He gazed at her with questioning stare; this Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
A ****** slaughter on the Saxon Shore was no place for a maid;
for, were she taken; countless rapes, then death would come from Saxon hands.
He laid this to her, and she smiled; he saw that she was not afraid,
and pointing at the little cairn, this truth before him she then laid.
Her parents and her sister lay dead here; by Vortigern betrayed
to his Saxon Mercenaries so he might seize her father's lands.
But, when they struck, she was elsewhere; this Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
He asked her name; she smiled, "I am Elen; true heir of Eudaf Hen;
once High-King of Eastland, from Metaris to the Tamesis.
The Saxons fell upon his Hall and slaughtered all of my Kinsmen;
then they defiled my sister Madrun, time, and time, and time again,
until she fled from them by dying; she held 'naught, but four and ten
summers to her. This is why those vermin shall feel my blade's kiss.
With her; dispute would stand nowhere; this Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
And so, they rode away together from the greenwood that fine day;
and soon enough, before them lay the spreading Fens, so flat and wide.
And as they rode, her eyes were on him; and t'was soon then, she did say
"Come, tell me of your name; for all I know is, you are cavalry."
He smiled; "My name is Heylan of Dumnonia; from far away.
Your purpose of revanche discomfits me, it cannot be denied."
She held his eyes in steady stare; this Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
She quietly said, "Make no dispute on this; it is my stern intent
to prosecute reprisal on these vermin, and acquit the score.
With War-helm, and thus garbed; my *** is certainly not evident;
and you shall tell to Dux Bellorum - 'an he chooses to dissent,
that I am your Squire; and in this, t'is, as like, he shall relent;
so I might ride your Squadron and lay mayhems on the Saxon Shore.
So; her design was wove with care; this Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
He saw there was no purpose to lay thwart; it was a hopeless stand;
and so they rode on through the Fens all down to Camulodunum,
to join Artorius's Host; to wager all for their homeland;
this Legate of Ambrosius, who freely chose now, to withstand
the onfall of the Saxons, in denying them one stride of strand.
They formed behind the sand dunes as they waited for their hour to come.
Helm-cloaked; not one man lay forth stare at this Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
Out to sea, eight keels came on; three hundred swords in sum, or more;
the Host outnumbered four to one; such odds, they held as trifling thing;
The Long-ships ground onto the beach; the Saxons leapt onto the shore
with long-axe, sword, and buckler raised; intent on making ****** War.
The cavalry wing commanders held. Let them come further, to make sure.
The trap was sprung; they charged the Saxons. Blade upon blade now did ring.
Of peril, she seemed unaware; this Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
She hacked the Saxons down like tumbling corn before the summer mow;
blood-spattered, as she was, from Helm to boot-heel in that slaughtering.
He rode to shield her from the Saxon cross-bow men who made winnow
of such comrades, who, impetuous; held neglect for ebb and flow
of battle; and in grip of blood-lust, heeded not, such lurking foe.
As like, did she. He called; then heard a cross-bow bolt make deadly sing.
It struck her in the back, full square. this Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
The bolt full lifted her from saddle; cast her down upon the strand.
Hacking down such Saxon **** as mired his progress, he made ride
to where she lay, all crumpled, face-down in the reeking, ****** sand.
He knelt, and gently turned her over. Wincing, she reached out her hand
and touched his face.
She whispered, "Christus! This is not quite what I planned."
Her brown eyes dimmed, and with a gentle sigh, the Princess Elen died.
He gazed; his eyes wet with despair at this Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
He never saw the Saxon House-carl; never saw the long-axe swing;
he scarcely felt the razor-sharp blade cleave his flesh down to the bone.
He pulled himself across to where she lay; he could not feel a thing
below his flanks. He was so cold; he took her hand, his sight veiling;
and there, beside her, Heylan of Dumnonia died, that bright morning
upon the Saxon Shore; its shining sands now blood-stained, and wind-blown.
They found him, cold, and hand-clasped there with this Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
Artorius, the Dux Bellorum gazed, with sadness in his face
down at the hand-clasped pair; such wasted youth, and here, no sense to see.
He ordered them both borne away; no grave-pit for their resting place;
No; they would sleep as they had died; hand in hand in their embrace.
Betwixt the sand dunes and the sea, they raised a cairn with careful grace
for Heylan and Elen to sleep the great sleep of Eternity.
Perhaps, though... in another time, in another place, they'd meet somewhere.
the warrior Heylan, and Elen... the Girl with the Sunlight in her hair.
Explanatory Notes for readers unfamiliar with terms used in the verses.:
Places.
Camulodunum.... Colchester, Essex.
Dumnonia.... The post-Roman British south-west peninsula of modern-day England,
covering the Counties of Devon, most of Somerset and possibly parts of Dorset.
Eastland.... Area of Britain that is now called East Anglia. (Norfolk and Suffolk,)
Metaris.... The Wash. A shallow bay of the North Sea, bordering the counties of Lincolnshire
and Norfolk, England.
Tamesis.... The River Thames.
People.
Artorius.... King Arthur.
Ambrosius.... Ambrosius Aurelianus; a war leader of the Romano-British,
and supposed uncle and Mentor of King Arthur.
Dux Bellorum.... Literally: Roman War Duke. (King Arthur.)
Eudaf Hen.... High-King of Britain in the mid-4th Century.
Vortigern.... A 5th-Century warlord in Britain, who invited the Saxons to settle in
Britain as mercenaries, only to see them revolt and establish their own Kingdoms.
Expressions.
Discomfit... Archaic English word: To make someone feel uneasy.
Inveigh.... Archaic English word: To speak with great hostility.
To Lay Thwart...Archaic English term: To Oppose or disagree.
Revanche.... Archaic English word meaning Revenge
