Sword, Pearl and Rose

The full moon hung low in the starless sky,

its pale light gleaming off a steel halberd

as the sentry kept watch atop the lofty tower.

He drew his cloak fast around his shoulders.

Mid-winter was scarce a fortnight away,

yet the chill that grazed him now was not the work of nature.

His eyes swept across the barren landscape.

Trees and fields lay dead and fallow,

their once bright hues now dull and lifeless.

A sudden sound engaged his failing senses.

Steel and leather clinked like dripping rain

as a mounted figure approached the gate.

The sentry sighted upon the rider’s shield.

His halberd clanged upon the rough-hewn stones

as he blew his horn both loud and long.

The drawbridge lowered with a crash of thunder.

As a circle of torchlight enveloped the darkness,

the stranger drew near and removed his shabby cowl.

Chestnut hair hung ragged beneath a battered helm .

Eyes of piercing emerald shone in the darkness.

The left one bore a slender scar, running down from brow to cheek.

Two pages came running, their eyes ablaze with relief.

One grasped the reins as his master alighted.

The other bore hot mulled wine, steaming in a silver flagon.

The lord plodded wearily across the bridge,

born down by the weight of arms and armor,

and by sheer exhaustion of both body and soul.

The vaulted roof glowed in the light of the torches.

The lord was relieved of dagger and sword,

and so were the burdens of his helm, shield, and bow.

The clink of mail and clang of steel resounded in the hall.

As his armor was removed, piece by bloodstained piece,

the lord felt new life grow beneath his breast.

A page led the lord down a broad stone corridor,

into a room alight with many candles,

and bathed in the scent of fragrant herbs and oils.

A tub of water lay with its white steam curling into the air.

A sight of paradise as the lord had not seen for many a moon,

he disrobed and allowed the water to ease his weary form.

With his body pitted by ragged scars of battle,

and strands of liquid silver running through his hair,

the servants saw that their master had aged in more than years.

The lord was garbed in a robe of fine silk,

and seated down before a glowing fire.

Its merry light cast dancing shadows over his newly weathered face.

Servants came bearing trays and salvers.

Bread and meats were placed before him,

along with cheese, fruit, and the clearest ale.

Sated in body but not in spirit,

the lord bade his servants to retire,

and moved alone down a torch-lit passageway.

He stopped before doors of oak and iron.

With the strength of a lion but the temperance of a lamb,

he eased them open with nary a sound.

The light of a thousand candles met his eyes,

and the air he breathed was thick with incense.

On the cold, stone floor knelt his wife, beads clasped in her hand. 

Softly at first, but growing in tone,

he spoke aloud the sacred vows

they had exchanged so long ago.

The lady froze and rose to her feet.

Turning slowly with precision and care, she gasped aloud,

her round mouth obscured by her outspread hand.

With widespread eyes, she watched him approach.

As gentle as a breeze and blossom,

he brought her hand up to his lips.

His touch sent shivers through her very being.

His strong arms caught her as she nearly fell

and led her slowly from the room.

To their own chamber he led her now.

Silk brocades and woven rugs, as well as a shelf filled all with books

gleamed in the light of the roaring fire.

In the soft-glowing light of the bedside candle,

the lord examined his wife’s fine features.

The most beautiful sight he’d beheld in years.

Her blue-grey eyes like the steel of a sword,

with skin brightly pale as the finest pearl

and lips deep red as spring’s first rose.

Gazing into her sparkling eyes,

The lord stroked his wife’s smooth cheek

and with a gentle touch removed her veil.

Her long raven locks tumbled down,

like a new-made waterfall splitting the rocks

and gleaming wit the slightest silver.

The lord led his wife to bed,

and as his lips at last touched hers,

he deftly shed her every garment.

In the light of the slowly darkening fire,

her body shone like a pearl set in ivory,

and with one swift motion she cast off his robe.

They slipped into the fur-lined bed,

each one feeling the body of the other.

For a time, they lay silent, green and blue forever entwining.

As the fire grew dark and the candle burned low,

the lord looked toward the chamber door,

his keen ears straining for the slightest sound.

Hearing none, he turned back to his wife.

She wore a smile that could undo the heavens,

and he returned the gesture in kind.

Taking a hold of the silken cord,

he gently closed the velvet curtains,

just as the candle spent its last light.