I.
Prince Larren was praised by all the kingdom,
second-born, but truly noble of heart.
he won in the lists and practice rings,
on a horse or off he could fight hard,
to the people he was a shining star,
So good that King Rael and Crown Prince Duhran,
sent him to command the west’s frontier land.
He rode from the capital on the plain
towards the west’s great stronghold citadel,
in the hill county there he stopped at a ville,
to spend a night, for his horse’s health,
so much riding had not done the beast well.
The town fathers put him up in fine style,
and sent him a girl to help pass the while.
The girl’s name was Seras, there was no name last,
she was a peasant orphaned quite long ago,
but she was a beauty with long, flaxen hair,
and emerald eyes that sparkled and glowed,
Larren was struck, and told the girl so.
“Do you not have kin to look after you?
Please tell that what I fear isn’t true!”
Seras frowned and said,”I must do what I must,
it’s the only way that I have to survive.
They will not even let me live here in town,
only in a hut out in the countryside,
where they come when they’re wanting a ride.”
She explained no more, just captured his lips,
Larren was overwhelmed, and surrendered to it.
The next morning he awoke, and gazed at her,
then rustled her gently from her sleep.
He said to her,”You need never lay with them,
from now on, you lay only with me.
I’ll cross blades with whomever touches thee!”
He gave her gold coins, his father on one side,
said,”Build up a home in which to take pride!”
For three years the prince watched the west,
only half a day’s ride from that sweet girl,
whenever he could, he rode out to her
and for a while they forgot of the world,
to Larren, she was a precious pearl.
Of this lengthy affair two young boys came,
Larren always smiled when he said their names.
But after three years a messenger came
to the citadel where he kept his watch.
It was time to go home and take a wife,
those were his august father’s thoughts,
an alliance with his neighbors he sought.
Larren then rode out to his greatest love,
saying,”I fear I must leave, orders from above.”
There were tears, many tears, at the grim news,
but Larren promised Seras one thing,
every month that he remained alive
a page would come, new gold would he bring,
he swore his on his royal signet ring.
That night he spent wrapped up in her arms,
he left wondering how to forsake he charms…
II.
In the capital a great feast was thrown
to welcome Larren back from the frontier.
Minstrels sang songs of his victories,
while they ate venison and drank beer,
the whole city thronged with good cheer.
But Larren was subdued in the feasting hall,
his betrothed sat across from him, haughty and tall.
Her name was Berice, a princess of the south,
quiet pretty but not the kindest around.
Her tongue was sharp, her manner aloof,
both in bed chambers and tournament grounds,
Sse saw this marriage as a great step down.
But Larren had a duty, and they were wed,
and went, cold and distant, to the marital bed.
Though the king praised this noble pairing,
and so did his great heir, the crown prince,
Larren found his wife a drain on his soul,
and hard to bear, ever for short stints,
of true affection, she showed not a hint.
She took to his bed only at fertile times,
to bear him an heir, with no love in her eyes.
To make matters worse, by the first month’s end
Great King Rael was beginning to flag.
A fever set in, yellow came to his eyes,
and his breath in great rasps did drag,
Larren spent weeks by the bedside of his dad.
When he passed on, Crown Prince Duhran rose,
he made Larren chief general, the bane of his foes.
Five months passed, and Larren’s misery grew,
no accolades or awards could assuage
the loneliness he felt, the true lack of love
sometimes drove him quite close to rage,
he began to look older than his age.
His brother, the king, said,”Take a mistress,”
Larren couldn’t say he’d already had the best…
Then a new foe arose in the far west,
encouraged by the death of King Rael.
They besieged the citadel Larren had held,
and committed crimes that were beyond the pale,
rape and slavery were their grisly tales.
Duhran sent Larren with all of the troops
to smash the heathen invaders for good.
Larren arrived, somewhat glad to be gone,
back doing something he knew quite well.
Gladder still was her to be free of his wife,
Though to others this truth would not tell,
not when battle raged at the citael.
Once on the scene her surveyed the siege,
then lined up his troops, and charged to their relief…
III.
The heathen knew not of his approach
until his men exploded out of the hills.
The foe tried to give fight, but siege-lines broke
as Prince Larren pilled up the kills,
they were not a true match for his will.
Chaos descended, the battle now a route,
in the milling madness, Larren was singled out.
Cut off from his fellows, ten heathens advanced,
Larren knew he had no decent prospects.
He leapt on his horse, fled to a near hill,
where he prepared for whatever came next,
but by now the heathern horde was wrecked.
The ten who had followed, all now lay dead,
for the first time that day, Larren cleared his head.
Half the horde lay lifeless down on the field,
the other half fled across a river
that sat by the citadel, their western border,
its waters roiled, churned, and shivered
with the melt-off of a long winter.
Most who went in vanished under the waves,
few made it across to live another day.
Larren turned then, and he faced the hills,
racing thoughts running through his mind,
the battle was won, the kingdom was safe,
he decided then that it was his time
to claim a life far from the royal grind.
He rode into the forest, galloping clear,
it had to be done, though his brother would tear.
He found the old road that he knew so well,
and stopped by a cliff, high above a stream.
His stripped off his armor, tossed it away,
the water swallowing the metal’s gleam,
it fell away like a vanishing dream.
Should any find it they would come to think
that they’re great Prince Larren had drowned in the drink.
He continued on until he found the house,
his sons busy at play in the front.
He saw Seras walk out, her belly swollen,
large enough to account for six months,
at the mere sight of him she was stunned.
He tied up his horse, walked up to her side,
swept her into his arms as she started to cry.
“You shouldn’t be here, your wide will be mad,”
she said as she clung to him tight.
Said he,“She was Larren’s wife, but Larren is ‘dead.’
The man here has but one family and wife,
gold and riches aren’t worth that sort of strife.
From now on I am Burren, a plain forester,
since you can’t be a princess, I’ll be a prince no more.”
IV.
And that’s how they lived, while the kingdom mourned
for the loss of so great a young soul.
He hated to fool them, but would never return,
the wild hills were forever his hold,
for forty years, he and Seras grew old…
and in that time six more children came,
two boys and four girls, all strong and untamed.
And until but two short days ago
they lived and loved in their quaint home.
But the great plague that has gripped this land
claimed both of them in a heavy blow,
worse than any his children have known.
And I speak to you now at their funeral,
the first-born of Larren, his tale now is told.
I say it not to stir up claims to the throne,
I have no use for that fancy and fuss,
I speak not to upset the widower Berice,
Who surely would have no love for us,
She would think us but the bastards of lust,
but I speak so it’s known, that in the Gods’ eyes
twas Seras of the Hills, who was my father’s true wife…