The Lay of Sir Rhys’s Quest

Sir Rhys Ravenscroft
fallen in Fall Crown Tourney, A.S. XLII

The Lay of Sir Rhys’s Quest

Would you let me tell this tale to you?
Tell this tale in the way of old,
Noble tale of the brave Sir Rhys,
Brave Sir Rhys, gallant Ravenscroft…
Not by fancy I will guide this tale,
As the tales of the ancient bards,
But by truth of the recent past
I will try to begin this day.
Those bards, when they sang a song,
Spread themselves as the river wide,
Ran afield as the gray wild wolves,
Took to flight like the falcons bright.
I will have to begin afresh,
From a day when Syr Rhys looked up,
Looked upon all of royal lands,
All of rolling hills and all crushing waves,
And desired to be more than just a knight,
And dreamed up to make fair Jimena Queen.
So he had a desire in his mind,
A burning dream shining ahead.
“I wish,” he said, “to cross my swords,
In the Crown Tourney with our very best,
And I wish to fall on a tourney field,
If I won’t win the kingdom for Jimena mine.”
Oh, oh how would those bards of old,
Those nightingales sing of Rhys’s quest?
Their words flew high into the clouds white,
Swiftly ran the trails of the legends of old.
Oh, I would wish them sing the tale of Rhys,
Bold Syr Rhys who fought for a crown’s gold.
Armor shining bright, he went into the field,
There to meet Cormac, then to fight with Bjorn.
Brightly his own sword met with their arms,
Mighty Rhys thus won, and Jimena smiled.
Easy goes a song, not so easy - a fight,
Now tired, Sir Rhys went to clash anew,
Went and yielded soon to Sir Gamyl’s blade.
Spoke then Sir Rhys, “All is not yet lost,
I will go forth to fulfill my quest,
For my land, Caid, for Jimena’s eyes,
I will charge the field as a stallion strong.”
If the ancient bards sang the tale of Rhys,
They would sing him praise as a songbird sings,
And they would reach high as an eagle flies,
Praise him to the skies for his noble quest.
Ventured forth Syr Rhys, and upon the field
There stood a man who would be the king.
Once and future king, Edric, regal Duke.
Was it foretold for Syr Rhys to fall?
Was it meant to be that Edric reigned anew?
Oh, if olden bard sang this song, they’d say,
But I can only grieve for Syr Rhys’s quest.
As he fell that day on the tourney field,
I will praise the king for his royal might,
But I’ll praise Syr Rhys for his brave attempt,
And for his bright hope of another time.

— Lady Liudmila Vladimirova doch'

... is a daughter of impoverished boyar family under the rule of Tsar Ivan Vasilievich. She is married to a foreigner, but is blessedly allowed to avoid unseemly Western clothes and unseemly Western ways.

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