Thursday, 29 December 2016

First Entry in Their Majesties Bardic Competition

Photo by Master Eirik Andersen.
Their Majesties Ealdormere, Siegfried and Xristina, have challenged the people of Ealdormere to a bardic competition wherein they are to extol the virtues of a former Queen of the lupine lands.

The first to enter was Lord Dietrich von Sachsen, who performed the following song at Crown Tournament:

Iron Queen of the Northlands
by Lord Dietrich von Sachsen, to the tune of "Widow at Windsor" as sung by Peter Bellamy

Have you heard of the Queen of the Northlands,
With a gleaming gold crown on her head?
She has ships on the foam, she has servants at home,
She pays us poor beggars in red.
   (Oh, poor beggars in red!)
There's her mark on the dogs and the horses,
Photo by Master Eirik Andersen.

There's her banners a-fly in their scores,
And her sergeants you'll find with a fair wind behind
That takes us to fight in her wars
   (Poor beggars! We're off to the wars!)
   Then here's to the Iron Queen Adrielle,
   And here's to the swords and the drums,
   The men and the horses that make up her forces,
   For we are the Iron Queen's sons.
   (Poor beggars! The Iron Queen's sons!)

Fight now with the strength of the Iron Queen,
Whose voice shakes the kings in their thrones
And we'll bring her great fame with the sword and the flame,
And we'll salt down their land down to its bones.
   (Poor beggars! -- it's blue with our bones!)
Insult not the Queen of the Northlands,
With lying and other such slop,
Even the kings must come down, and Princes doff their crowns
When the Iron Queen stands and says "Stop!"
   (Poor beggars! -- we're sent to say stop!)
   Then here's to the Lodge of the Northlands
   From the ice to the Great Seas it runs
   To the Lodge that we've tiled with the treasures we've piled
   That shines like a thousand bright suns
   (Poor beggars! -- It's hot in the sun!)

We have heard of the Iron Queen Adrielle
And the love of her land she has shown,
For that love we shall stand vigil over the land,
Whenever the war-horns are blown.
   (Poor Beggars! And ever they're blown!)
Take hold of the Wings of the Morning,
And Fly 'till this life ye depart,
But you won't get away from the tales that they say,
Of the Iron Queen's courage and heart.
   (Poor Beggars! -- stand fast and take heart!)
   Then here's to Sons of the Iron Queen,
   Whenever, however they roam!
   Here's all they desire and if they require
   A speedy return to their home
   (Poor Beggars! -- They'll always seek home!)

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