Part 1

Part 9

He presses on the injury,
Holds the wound closed gingerly,
And rushes down the barren hill,
Empowered by a desperate will.

He asks for strength and righteous eyes
To resist the creature’s lies.
He sheathes his sword, gets out the bow
As he spots her house below.

Perhaps it is adrenaline, perhaps he has been healed –
He cannot feel his arm joint, the wound seems to have sealed.
Below the valley opens up, the bandits have returned
Now they will pay dearly for the lesson they won’t learn.

One bandit lies upon the floor, an arrow in his side
Then the beast approaches and they’ll wish that they had died
They writhe in pain right where they stand as jagged claws erupt
From fingertips as they change into forms foul and corrupt

Two tear into each other, the other two stand still,
Submitting to the beast’s commands, they’ve lost their own free will.
“See my perfect justice, did they not deserve to die?
And by each other’s faithless hands, that does so gratify!”

“These other two shall serve my noble purposes henceforth;
When we are finished here, we will proceed to cleanse the north!
That ignorant canned pilgrim dares to fight against my reign;
While you two tear him limb from limb, I’ll play with his weak brain.”

The beast’s two standing servants charge up with a rapid lope,
Daric fires an arrow, and one tumbles down the slope.
He draws his sword a second late as the first one leaps
It glances off his helmet with a cut that slowly weeps.

With Daric’s sword now drawn and glowing, fear shows in its eyes,
But feral orders from the beast lead to its quick demise.
It pounces down from its high rock, is skewered on the blade
It thrashes, spasms, gurgles, as its life signs quickly fade.

Daric pulls his blade out and turns to head on down,
He’s just in time to hack into the second minion’s crown.
It collapses instantly, he feels a surge of pride;
Now naught between him and the vile beast’s vulnerable hide.

“Stay back!” cries Beatrice as it batters down her door;
She fires arrows through the gap as spruce planks hit the floor.
They strike the beast right in his chest, he merely grunts and grins,
Pulls them out and drops them as if they were but patchwork pins.

It opens up the door and invites her to come out,
Ignoring Daric’s charge towards him with a mighty shout.
A half-dead minion on the ground trips Daric with its knee
The beast then slowly shakes its head and calls out tenderly:

“Beatrice, my precious fawn,
We stand before a whole new dawn.
You killed your father, brothers all
When in your inner monster’s thrall.”

“No,” she whimpers at the door,
Then starts convulsing on the floor.
“Now retake your perfect form
As we start the cleansing storm.

“Kings will bow before us as we triumph, side by side.
Behold, you puny mortal man, my glorious blushing bride!”

Parts 11 & 12

Part 1

Part 8

They stand and breathe
Amid the bones of long-dead men.
It can’t believe
That Daric is back here again.

“What brings you here? Why do you hide
Inside that shell of hollow pride?
I’ll end that false serenity
And show you your identity.”

“I’ve had my fill of your dark lies
To drag me down to my demise;
You shall not take me down that road
To pay debts that I do not owe.

“It doesn’t have to be this way
The cross can take your curse away.
Upon the Hill of Myth I met
A man who can forgive your debt.”

“Forgiveness? Curse? I am not cursed,
I’m justice of the universe!
All men must fall beneath my power
And every day and every hour

“They live or die at my command
All live in fear of my black hand.
None escape the truth inside
Of demons finally untied.

“Did not my gift to you suffice?
I shall give a greater share,
To fill your veins with darkest ice
And we shall see then how you fare.”

His sword grows heavy in his hand
His movements weak and sluggish,
As frauds and intrigues underhand
And fantasies quite thuggish

Assault his mind, distract him for
The beast’s first leaping, slashing claw
A single talon finds a gap
Between two plates before it’s snapped

By plate edges that scissor closed
As Daric with his free hand throws
A punch to force the great beast back
And then continues his attack.

His sword arm is now wracked with pain
As he swings it up again
He lands a weak and glancing blow,
But the blade sticks and starts to glow.

The beast now screams as its flesh burns,
It stumbles back then quickly turns
To flee the way that Daric came;
With horror, he cries out her name,

“Beatrice!” Daric finds the tip
Of the beast’s claw, with clenched teeth rips
It from his shoulder, screams in pain,
Then sets after the beast again.

Part 10

Part 1

Part 7

“May I know your name at least, good sir?” she asks with pain.
“Daric son of Connor, son of Fergus, son of Caine.”
“A heart of oak is what you have, don’t you live in shame
Of past mistakes when you are working to remove the stain.”

His heart aches for her suffering soul, but he daren’t raise her hopes.
They come to a small comely house that lies between two slopes.
In need of minor maintenance, but built of sturdy logs
As they approach, they’re greeted by a pair of hunting dogs.

Down the left hand slope a small stream sparkles in the sun,
Fertile land around the cabin needs a lot of weeding done.
A low stone wall around the henhouse needs some mortar for its holes,
The roof above the front door has some mildew in its poles,

But all in all, he summarizes, “What a lovely home!
Just the place to come back to and rest your weary bones.”
Her eyebrows rise in cautious hope at Daric’s warm remark.
“I can prepare a simple meal, before it gets too dark.”

Inside his shell he blushes, blusters, “There’s still daylight left,
I must see to my errand and repay my mammoth debt.
Up that right hand slope is where I first lost to the beast;
I must return there to ensure his brutal reign will cease.”

“The beast? He slew my father and my brothers in the night;
My dreams are still now haunted by that awful grisly sight.
Avenge them and my heart and home will be forever yours,
No matter what your past or what your future holds in store.”

“O, my lady fair, what can I say to such a gift?
I will endeavour to succeed and then return so swift
That you will hardly notice that I ever went away,
Should I gain your lovely hand, forever I would stay.

“I cannot take you with me and can’t bear to leave you here,
At any time those shameful bandits might still reappear.
Here, take my shield and put it in your window on display,
Then they will see it, think me there and depart in dismay.”

“But you will need it to survive your duel on that peak
I’d dread to think because of me you’ll find yourself too weak.”
“No, I insist, to keep it would distract me fatally
With thoughts of what I could have done to keep you safe and free.”

“If I can’t persuade you, take my father’s bow at least;
That will help you in your struggle with that horrifying beast.
I can use my brother’s bow and barricade the door.”
“Thank you, my good lady, he has much to answer for.”

Daric ventures up the slope, across a narrow ledge,
Towards the culmination of his solemn oath and pledge.
He passes by the arid bones of victims long deceased
‘Til finally and once again he sees the dreaded beast.

Part Nine

Part 1

Part 5

The trapdoor opens with a creak
To reveal a tunnel bleak
Sloping down into the dark,
Then a torch lights with a spark.

He takes the torch and ventures down
The passage dank and winding,
Its walls engraved with horses, crowns,
And at its end then finding

Beside a rusty metal gate
A shining sword, shield, suit of plate,
Upon which eagles are engraved,
Here is the glory Daric craved,

And yet this gleam is not so prized,
Now that he has been chastised.
Above the armour rack a plaque
Warns in lettering most stark:

Who would grasp this noble hilt
Must be free of vice and guilt,
Must stay upon the righteous path,
Or fall victim to his own wrath.

So with solemn oath he takes
The armour and with hand that shakes
He grasps the hilt of that great sword,
Salutes the hill and gives his word.

Beyond the gate a passage grey
That leads by narrow hidden way
To a gorge quite overgrown
With walls of uninviting stone.

He hacks his way through underbrush
Emerging in a meadow lush.
He strolls on down the gentle slope
His heart now light and full of hope.

He finds his bearings, heads off back
Along a dry and dusty track.
It takes him on a different route
(With stops to shake stones from his boot)

Across a plateau, past a bog
Through strange terrain obscured by fog;
As he rounds a disused sty
He hears a stifled female cry.

Part 1

Part 4

Atop the lonely peak he finds a pair of silver beams
Moulded at right angles, giving off a ghostly gleam.
This place’s eerie atmosphere has silenced all the birds,
He steps forward with trembling at the old man’s warning words.

Despite the growing protests of the beast, he reaches out,
Touches purest silver and then with a silent shout
The rage of all the ages flows through and out of him,
His knees begin to falter and his vision starts to swim.

He sees a man of purest good, defender of the weak
Who shames the mighty with the truth, heals those who cannot speak,
Who gives the cripple and the lame new strength to leap and dance,
And frees the tortured and oppressed from their dark hellish trance.

Daric feels pure envy surging up from deep within,
Unlike the sin the beast ‘revealed’, this comes from inside him.
This man shows Daric how far short he falls of what is right
Shame turns into anger and he rages at the light.

The powerful that hate that man rouse up a vicious mob,
Accusing him of every evil thing they could think of.
Daric finds his inner self concurring with the horde
Demanding blood to have his own self-righteousness restored.

The man is taken, beaten, scourged, then hung up on display,
So he can be taunted as his lifeblood drips away.
Black tendril clouds of evil all converge on his pinned form
As the guilt of ages swarms at him in a wrathstorm.

The skies turn black, the mountains shake,
Great idols fall, disintegrate.
Demons shout and celebrate
His death, and when the noise abates

Daric’s anger at the truth
Turns back to shame that saps his youth.
“That man did not deserve his fate
But pity now is far too late.

“I truly am a loathsome fiend
That should be kept and quarantined
From all that’s pure and clean and good
Until I am the jackals’ food.”

Then Daric’s bathed in radiant light
And treated to the joyful sight
Of that man back to life in power
At his own appointed hour.

Justice has been served and won;
Wrath is spent and guilt is gone.
He offers Daric his pierced hand,
Smiles warmly and then helps him stand.

Daric finds his beast is stilled,
His old corrupted self is killed.
A noble peace is in his heart;
He’s ready for a whole new start.

The man ascends into the sky
Leaving Daric misty-eyed.
Behind the cross he sees a door
In the rocky mountain floor.

Part 6

Part 1

With pointed snout and matted fur,
Imposing frame that barely stirs,
 
It stands, so proud,
And eyes the outcast’s tattered rags.
And then out loud
With smooth and cultured voice it brags,
 
“Are you surprised to hear me speak?
I am no simple rabid brute.
I have no need to skulk or sneak
Among the poor and destitute.
 
“I was once a man like you,
Despised for what I could not be;
Yet through that fiery avenue
I walked until my soul was free.
 
“Then fate avenged my sorrows all
And granted me this noble gift,
To ensure the mighty fall
And embody justice swift.”
 
“Justice? You?
Who murders fathers as they slept?
All those you slew
Left daughters, sons and wives who wept.”
 
“You do not know how blind you are;
I laid no hand upon those men,
Merely watching from afar
As they met their well-earned end.
 
“I gave each one great tooth and claw
Then showed him his own heart;
When all the evil there he saw
Each tore himself apart.
 
“And now in turn your soul I bless,
Feel your surging righteous might!
Do not give vile foulness rest,
Dig it out and end your blight!”
 
Holy rage consumes his mind
At filth that must now be removed;
To all else he is almost blind
His razor claws the perfect tool.
 
He somehow holds himself at bay
And stumbles down the tortured mound,
‘Til finally at break of day
He wakes upon quite foreign ground.