The Heroic Tale of Sir Jamal
Sir Jamal Damian Marcus
fallen in Spring Crown Tourney, A.S. XLI
The Heroic Tale of Sir Jamal
(in ottava rima)
Today is the day of the rising star,
It will judge who will rise, who will fall.
Who would be the fighter who’ll go far?
Whose head would this day swiftly roll?
Those who came to the field from afar,
All came willing to pay the high toll.
At these hopes and dreams of the crown,
The fortune will smile, wink, or frown.
So comes Sir Jamal with his love Eowyn,
The Mistress who holds the moor’s heart.
For her he would try to succeed, to win
This day with his warrior’s art.
The foes are as fierce as they’ve ever been,
And soon will the battle start.
Thus, under the golden, bright eagle crest,
He starts on his bold, on his noble quest.
The day is still hopeful, young and bright
As Jamal bravely comes to the field,
Eowyn dazzlingly smiles at her knight,
And he readies his sword and his shield.
Kuma, the Bear in all his might
Is a foe that would not ever yield.
As the eagle falls and the bear reigns,
To Jamal only single life remains.
His next foe is young, but of some renown,
Lorccan who knows his way with the sword.
Watches Eilidh with a worried frown;
Eowyn shivers as if with cold.
Will Sir Jamal keeps a chance at the crown?
Will the kingdom be his to hold?
He did not miss his chance to prevail,
And so goes on this hero’s tale.
Sir Padraig, the bearer of dragon’s head,
For Lady Runa comes to the fray.
Boldly both knights charge right ahead,
Fighting not to wound but to slay.
Weapons clash, clang, and inspire dread;
Jamal’s steady blows naught can defray.
The battle is over, mighty yet brief,
And Eowyn breathes a sigh of relief.
On come the MacMillans, joining the fight.
Sir Tearlach has his eye on the prize,
His noble lady his pride and delight,
But Eowyn makes Jamal’s spirits rise.
Tearlach falls to a sword’s bitter bite,
Mutely lamenting his hope’s demise.
The day goes on, the lists grow trimmer...
Who is to behold the crown’s bright glimmer?
Viscondesa Jimena, the beauty of Spain,
Stands by her knight who fights for the dream.
Sir Rhys meets Jamal, to kill or be slain,
Foes and knights of the highest esteem.
Eowyn watches, her care is plain,
Willing Jamal to emerge supreme.
And since he does, their hopes are high
As they find respite in getting a bye.
Sir Edward, who bears a boar,
Leads Mora with him to the lists.
Oh, what of Jamal? He is sore,
And dreading that his sword may miss.
They charge, and they clash, and they roar…
For them, just this moment exists.
As it flees, Sir Jamal falls defeated,
His hopes of the crown depleted…
To Eowyn he looks in frustration,
As he thought that this day could be his,
But she is his love and salvation,
And the promise resides in her kiss.
They will not embrace desperation;
Instead they’ll get stronger from this.
The future still harbors much hope,
And so they would not ever mope.
- — Lady Liudmila Vladimirova doch’
- ...is a daughter of a Moscow boyar, of blessed memory, who lost his fortune in the early days of Tsar Ivan Vasilievich’s reign and had to agree to marry her off to a foreign merchant. Thus, she had to leave her home but still refuses to wear any unseemly Western clothes and do unseemly Western things.
Note: The ottave rima is a poem with a stanza of eight lines following a-b-a-b-a-b-c-c rhyming scheme. It was first used by Boccaccio, and eventually appeared in Elizabethan England, mostly in translations. Originally it was intended for heroic epics, but also appeared in the mock-heroic poetry. The author is not quite sure which of the two she produced.
Copyright
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