The Birth of People's Republic of Antartica, стр. 136
I have the head of a hero. My hearth-companions call me Bulwark of the South. I am sharp-witted and have the clue to war-success. I enjoy the weather of rainbows. I take the high seat in my ice-carved hall and share meat with my long-eared hounds. My retinue gathers at my drinking tables to hear my bards make hall-songs of my contests.
The bards sing of the season when the sea boiled with waves of flames, and war-creatures from western shadows stained beaches with the children of men. I was in my early manhood. I rode the salt-trails on a sound wood wave-cutter. My captain was a white-bearded giant, the blood of feuds in his breast. His name was Hard-Fishennan. He was gloomy entertainment. He coveted me as his own. I left the company of Hard-Fisherman to seek signs of safe passage through western shadows. I led a war-band. My eye drew us into the company of men captained by a black-bearded whale-killer. His name was Elephant Son. Our blades were dulled by ripping at bone joints. We fled to a keep where we were trapped in burning halls. My need was to return to Hard-Fisherman. My new-tarred boat was destroyed by no fault of mine. / waded into the war-creatures from western shadows. My battle-shirt was craving. My blood-price was a host. My wounds gave me sleep. Elephant Son carried my body to the east, to his home, the Land of the Whale-Killers.
The high-pitched bards, in my favor-rich hall, sing of my seasons among the Whale-Killers. I wore the dress of a keeper, and lived among the children. I wept for my need of Hard-Fisherman. He was the father of my mother. I longed for Dragon-Worrier. He was my father. My teacher was a bitter-tongued man. I matched his wits with tales of my youth, in the Land of the Fire-Scolds. I passed my happiest days in the company of slender-armed women. One, Poor-Patience, asked me to set aside my war-ways. We gave thanks to God for our child. The clearness of Heaven revealed no end to strife. The King of the Whale-Killers was fame-winning. He was not blameless. He was too much away from his halls, where drink gave men contempt for slaves. His name was Elephant Father. At his table, sly hall-fellows, who used their blades on their kin, spoke against Elephant Father. They claimed there was a new evil, born in the defeat in western shadows. They said that Elephant Father had lost his bright edge. The hall-fellows captured children and placed them in keeps. Elephant Father called the hall-fellows mischievous. Elephant Father called upon me, in my keeper’s clothing, with the smell of a slender-armed woman on me, to take up again my battle-shaft and to give chase to the new evil. I turned to the counsel of my brother, Copper-Crowned, who had the secret to the beast in men. The slender-armed women bestowed on us their attention. We asked God for help, for without Everlasting Might there can be no victory. I stood before the hall-fellows and told them that the new evil was not born in defeat in western shadows. I told them that the new evil was an old evil that comes into mens hearts when famine covers their tables. I wrestled with the old evil that has no name, that feeds on faith. The old evil stalked the Land of the Whale-Killers, and broke the seal of the linden-wood halls, and tore the flesh of the children. I protected many, but not all. The hall-fellows blamed Elephant Father for my failure and murdered him in his grief. The screams of the slender-armed women slowed my reach. Poor-Patience was pulled down to her sad ending-day, and I was stilled. The hall-fellows feared my wrath. They captured me and my brothers. I cursed the hall-fellows as kinsmen who make nets of malice for harsh gain. I led my brethren and the children onto a deep-chested ship, where we gave our backs to the mischief of the Land of the Whale-Killers.
The sharp-tongued bards, in my well-wrought hall, sing of my season on the sorrow-laden sea. I guided my deep-chested ship into a storm tossed by sea-beasts. I met a shape-changer. Her name was Time-Thief. She was my mother. She recalled her charge to me in my youth to follow the ghostly leavings of a thousand-year-dead outlaw. She recalled her charge to me that I must rise to rule the black and hurt half-men of the wall of blizzards and behemoths. She shamed me for my wandering ways and for my time astray covered with the blood of other men’s feuds. She gave me true terms to follow my heart. I commanded my company to begin my craved-voyage for Hard-Fisherman. We sailed into western shadows. Among ice islands and fire mountains we were set upon by creatures in dense escort. We were defeated. We accepted the guidance of men in tall white warships. They led us to shelter in a smoky fen on a stone beach covered with lost hopes. My war-band wavered before the bark of the fire mountains. I fed my company my patience. I dressed in endurance. My war-hound sounded a cry for her lost sister. I was pregnant with memory of ancient counsels, “When want is crime, I am outlaw.” God gave me courage and then he gave me Hard-Fisherman. He was come to his ending-day. He took my eyes and made them his, took my ears and made them ours, took my sorrow and made it joy of promised triumph. He gave my soul a need for revenge against the murderers of my father and the eaters of my father’s brothers.