I.

Neath earth and stone in buried chambers dank,

The vaulted bays and columns high aloft,

And ruin strewn with ancient relics sank,

In shroud of moss, his lunar skin still soft:

A torso spied within this gloomy loft,

In twist with muscles taut, locked in coiled brace.

'Hail this hero!' to whom my cap I doffed,

Forgotten god to a forgotten race,

Where now forsook to fade and wither here with grace.

II.

Yet here stood I now in my motley hues,

With bladder emptied, pockets full of pay.

Then I, lifting the breeches from my shoes,

To my accomplice called, 'Let us away!

There is naught else here but bones and decay.’

‘O hush! What whispers lost dwell in the draught?'

Nay, but a trick of mind, a jester’s play.

'Who else would be so daft as we?' I laughed,

And fled the crypt to cling along a narrow shaft.

III.

Our hastened steps to my dread did arouse

A creaking stir therein each coffin passed.

No tome nor lore of old could I espouse,

As bony limbs arose we stood aghast!

Ashen flesh draped in flowing cloth amassed

In eerie silence stumbling from the wall.

Terror taken, away I hurried fast,

And burst forth with dust into the grand hall,

While freedom flickered I heard my accomplice call.

IV.

His hand reached out, the fool tripped to his chin!

And wights fell swift upon his kicking thighs.

'Forgive me friend, a craven saves his skin.'

With one last look, I met his burning eyes,

Then took the rope, abandoning his cries.

The crevice I clambered, out from the mound,

But not out of peril, to my surprise;

The dead below were clawing through the ground!

Through forest I fled, up rocks with haze all around.

V.

From kerning cloud, looming shadows marched fro,

Escape was vain, and cornered here I sighed.

But tarry, the sweet song of steel below?

A knight in armour white, 'Sir Lloyd!' he cried,

His suit withstood the blows, his blade replied.

They bit and scratched, though plate and mail withstood,

Until the last was felled and sank aside.

And by a tree, he leant against the wood,

I scrambled down to meet him, lowering my hood.

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VI.

Surcoat frayed, his cloak a moth’s withered wing,

Behind the visor, a warm welcome came,

A loon for certain but use he may bring,

'My thanks!' I gave him, 'Marcel is my name.'

And Childe Vincent was he, spurs yet to claim.

'In days so dim, a merryman is rare,

The mist is dark and company a flame,

Yours I should enjoy, if mine you can bear.'

'Why, of course!' said I, and a knight’s tale he did share.

VII.

The haze through twisted branches weaved and wove

A murky veil along the forest floor.

Over gnarled roots tread, deep into the grove,

My bold companion through dense thicket tore.

'Far have I roam’d, yet further have I more,

In my master’s steps whom this way once brought,

Thus tasked to find him, by the oath I swore.'

'A noble hunt!' though fool’s folly I thought.

In truth? Why, it was his possessions that I sought.

VIII.

At woodland’s end, a mournful town there stood,

With silent streets bare, cloaked in dreary fog,

And ghosts in doorways clung to rough-hewn wood.

'These stray souls drift in stupor, a doomed bog,

No past nor future, but consume and flog.

Where’s the wonder, where’s the fire in their breast?

With all else forgot and lost in this smog.'

'Marcel,' he said, 'my journey takes me West.'

And at the broach of treasure, I joined on his quest.

IX.

Road well tread we took, though came soon to find,

An old path forgot, off the cobbled lane,

'The Wyrd Way,' by bracken hidden behind.

A row of ashes was all to remain.

'Your armour, out of fashion and terrain.'

'Aye, but a symbol long ago begat,

A message of hope! Now to me explain,

Why one, so jaded, wears the jester’s hat?'

'Well, dear errant,' said I, 'any old fool knows that!'

X.

The way, from briar to wild country led.

A ghostly wisp across, then came to form

The wall unending, rampart overhead.

'Furthercroft yonder lies, beyond the storm,

Once Vesperand, where golden light shined warm.'

Before I could jest, he plunged into gloom.

I followed, feeling dusk around me swarm.

'Pray take heed, for the mist can consume.'

His voice withdrew, and I was left within the womb.