Clash of the Geeks Read Free Page A

boy-king     stood stalwart and strong. 
    Bracing the bright blade    of his steady spear 
    So swiftly he struck    that damned Doramun fell
    His fierce features fixed    in a grin of surprise. 
    He hewed off the head     and created his crest. 
    Thereafter the boy bore    the face of his foe
    Brightly emblazoned    across his brave breast. 
     
    The Wheaton king’s hearth-hall    was fourfold in fame
    For both beer and bravery    known far and wide. 
    Later his lady love    joyously joined him. 
    Fairest Felicia    who sat at his side.  
     
    But when the lord’s lady    had stayed for her hour
    Then taken to bed    like a slow-furling flower. 
    After beery and bellowing    songs were all sung. 
    And the barrels were barren    straight down to the bung
    When firelight flickered    and hearth-hall grew dim
    Still waited the fourth fame   and they called on him. 
     
    Scalzi the Sharp-Tongue    was welcomed by Wheaton 
    For Scalzi was sceop    strong story-shaper. 
    Words were his weapons    and wise men did fear.
    Warriors wept    at the weight of his wrath.
    No man dared slight him    and oft it was spoken 
    By all the King’s thanes    how simpler and safer
    To open your veins    than anger the sceop. 
    For death from a broad blade    is blessedly brief.
    But Scalzi’s sarcasm    would strip you of skin 
    It was vicious as venom    that bides in the bite
    And follows a man    back to his bed at night. 
     
    The thanes savored Scalzi    for he did delight them.
    The stories he spun them    were wicked and wise. 
    Though frightful of face    the thanes treasured his tales. 
    Still sweeter than stories    was Scalzi’s mad ranting
    For when he was angered    the sceop would screed. 
    Rage roiled in Scalzi    like sparks in the tinder 
    Waiting for wild winds    to fan them to flame. 
    When full fury filled him    he harrowed the hearth hall
    His temper a tempest    scathing his speech. 
    Laughed they all loudly    at his wicked word-work
    For this the thanes thanked him    and praises they’d sing. 
    They hailed him as screedling    and valued his venom
    And none loved him more    than the wise Wheaton King
     
    Night upon night    the hearth-hall was happy
    When given a subject   then Scalzi would screed 
    Venting his venom    at his king’s command. 
    Marveled the men    so sharp his sarcasm
    So bitter the bile    he would loose for his liege. 
    None of them wondered    why rage roiled within him. 
    Silent was Scalzi     of what his heart held. 
    Love longing filled him    for fairest Felicia 
    For his lord’s loving lady    his secret heart swelled. 
    •••
    Faint flickered firelight    late lay the hour  
    All hearts were heavy   for early that evening 
    Wheaton warred with his lady    and his mood was sour. 
    He sang out for Scalzi    demanding a screed. 
    Said, “Sceop speak!    My wrath is waxing 
    But I’m wanting for words    that can cut like a knife. 
    My mood is most maudlin,    speak sharply for me 
    On what woe is woman    both wanton and wife.”
     
    The hearth hall held hundreds    and they leaned to listen
    Grimly they grinned    all hoping to hear 
    The wrath and the wit    of Scalzi the Screedling 
    Porclaim his word-work    in King Wheaton’s ear. 
     
    The sceop stood slowly    and with no small stagger. 
    For Scalzi was bold    when it came to his beer. 
    He’d broached his own barrel    and battled it bravely 
    And all through the night    he had shown it no fear. 
    Soused was the sceop    as he slurred to a start: 
    Women were wicked.    Woe to the wise man
    Trusting their treachery    weak to their wiles. 
    Fie to their fickleness.    Fainting and frail. 
    Weeping and whining    seducing with smiles. 
     
    The thanes were a thunder    loud was their laughter
    Scathing was Scalzi    as he slurred