St Rixxia

The land of St Rixxia was covered in snow
The king settled grim faced in front of the row.
“I know you’re all hungry and I know you’re all cold,
‘We’ve all struggled hard but we still must be bold
“The enemy Vedic is jealous and proud
“Though old he is cunning and can strike without sound.
“So aim to be just; that’s what we own.
“I’m relying on you. Don’t let me down.”
His words were not lost, they kindled the souls
Of the various fifteen who had followed his goals.

Lord Raleigh approved of the old king’s wise words
Back of his mind were the chains and the swords
Of the Vedish invaders smashing his farm
And the terrible guilt from not stopping harm.
It’s easy to say that nought could’ve be done
But the judge in his soul cried guilty, solemn.
Life travels on despite cares and regrets;
Time doesn’t heal. Or care. Or forget.
His gift was in leading so that’s what he did,
That’s just how it was, a natural it’s said.

The motley fifteen stood their ground without sound
Lady Raleigh was calm, steel glints in her eye
And though utterly focused, she could easily smile.
Field Marshall Collings had sweat from his eyes,
Gen’ral Mogan, his eyes were aimed at the sky
He relished this time and was willing to die -
Some eight years a slave had his vows like cast iron.
Nothing would stop him, nothing, even dying.
The sergeant at arms was checking the weapons
Each was immaculate despite its intentions.
Each had been made with unusual ingredients:
Science, care and hard-won experience.
Common enough, together they’re rare.

The Vedish empire spanned wide and was strong
Its roots stretched back years, forgotten and gone.
Its earlier days had been days of great growth
When honour was natural and a thing of much worth.
Honorable men stood with honorable men,
Protecting the good and doing what’s right
In spite of quick money and all of that ****e.
But days, moons and men will set and will rise
And while each tiny change is argued as wise
The cumulative force chokes the heart and it dies
Hasten’d on by sly men with short term in mind.

Legend was told of the Vedish first king
A man who stood firm with chaos round him.
Not many words, but eyes that could pierce
He founded the empire that Vedic now is.
He died as a god, his sword arm raised high.
His last words were shouted,”Return here shall I!”

But those days were gone and now it was fight.
Hordes of battalions had snaked in during night
St Rixxia encircled by foul breathing men
Their rattling and pounding shivering the spine.
The king gave a nod and Raleigh cried out
“Take your posts. Visors down. Belts tight. Weapons out”
Clashing and shouting erupted at once
The steel of St Rixxia flashed fast and was strong.
Weeks, months and years of dedicated preparation
Killed the hapless of the Veditian nation.
Raleigh and King both fought at the front
Keeping the line, encouraging on.
The men stood their ground with the last of their muscle
No inch given willingly in this bloody hustle.
The Vedic attack faded fast despite hires
“Quarter to yielders, no quarter to fighters!”
Shouted the king, forearms tight, wielding sword.

The battle was won and so the war went.
The king turned around to check on his men
A final black arrow sped faster than thought
Striking hard through his armour, cutting in taut.
Blood seeping out as died the light in his eye,
His last words immortalised, “Returned here have I”