Clash of the Geeks Read Free Page B

their sex:
    Hard-hearted harlots    teasing and tawdry 
    Shrewish and shrill    save for one who was sweet.
    Faces all false    all painted with promise 
    But rare was the woman    who was truly fair. 
    Skin soft as sighing    cool cream in color 
    Feathered with freckles.    Henna’d her hair 
    Shining like sunset    all dappled with shadow.
    Eyes light with laughter   lovely as lapis. 
    Lips sweet with smiling    your fair flower-mouth     
    Is palest of pinks    and all petal-perfect.
    Your lips curve with kindness    calling for kisses.
    Fair Felicia!    
     
    Silent the sceop.    Hushed is the hall. 
     
    Wrathful was Wheaton    full fury did fill him 
    His hand held the haft     of his strong-shafted spear. 
    His thanes they restrained him    and spoke of the land-law
    That none could slay sceop    for telling of tales.
    So Scalzi the Screedling    was banished and banned. 
    His arms they did grant him     and also his armor
    And four days of freedom    to take leave of the land. 
    •••
    Rocks rose around him   the road was in ruin
    But Scalzi was stoic    as he strode the stones. 
    Though weariness wore him   and hunger and hurt,
    Braved he the barrens   the high hills of Harrow. 
    Armor all war-worn    he bore on his back
    The weight of it woeful   but barely a burden 
    Next to the heaviness   hardening his heart. 
     
    Fleeing the wrath     that the Wheaton king bore him 
    Scalzi had traveled    for five days and nights. 
    Southward he sped     to Samarand’s safety
    Tomorrow his tramping    would be at an end. 
    Long were the leagues     he had stretched out behind him
    Four days of freedom    had lengthened his lead.
    Still Scalzi strode on     to Samarand’s border 
    For he knew the swiftness     of King Wheaton’s steed. 
     
    Cresting the hill   Scalzi saw Samarand
    Lush were the lands    that he gazed on below. 
    Then heard he behind him    full feathered wings stirring
    While beneath the bass    of a murderous mewing
    Came the thunderous thrum    of Proud Petrifax purring. 
     
    His sire had been Kestran   King of all Kitten-Kind.
    Of the line of Lesandre   upon whose broad backs
    Rode the lords of Leaydan    feared for their felines 
    Proud Persians all    but now lost to legend
    Save for the splendor    of this single son. 
     
    Fleeing was folly    so Scalzi the sceop 
    Gave one longing look    down on sweet Samarand.
    Then brought out his broad axe    great Grimnir gleaming
    Forged from the fire    at the dawn of the world.
    Weapon of Wodemar    fiercest of fighters
    But crap at canasta    so Scalzi had skinned him
    And won the brave blade    with a cut of the cards. 
     
    Wise Wheaton’s spear    shone like gold in the sun
    The face of damned Doramun    bold on his breast
    Straddling his steed    the king called a challenge 
    While Petrifax paused    and purred low in his chest. 
     
    Brave was their battle    in the high hills of Harrow.
    Harder than hammers    they struggled and struck
    Their fury so fierce    it shattered the stone. 
    Petrifax pounced    his pummeling purr 
    Rang on the rocks    as his hard horn decended 
    But swift as his wit    was the strong arm of Scalzi  
    The bright blade of Grimnir    flickered and flashed 
    When the king of all kittens     did buckle and bleed. 
     
    Mourning his mount    the king gave a cry. 
    His spear like a thunderbolt     bitter and bright. 
    All down the mountainside    sounded their strife
    And Wheaton the Warrior    spilled Scalzi’s life.  
     
    Sly Scalzi sharp tongue    bloody and broken 
    Silently slid    from the shaft of the spear. 
    Wheaton stood staring    fast fading his fury 
    And loud he lamented    what his wrath had wrought. 
    The king bent to embrace him    while Scalzi the Sceop
    Spoke to him softly     the secrets he kept. 
    Of love for Felicia