5/ The Victory Feast



Bright day was dawning, Dark night had fled

The Warbands stood proud 'midst battle's remains

A day of rejoicing, of songs and great stories

A victory feast to honour the dead



The dark demons bodies, piled high in great pyres

The reek of their burning, we offered to sky

That Woden's children would see by the number

How glorious our victory, how mighty our slain



Those of our number borne to Woden's dwelling

To Walhal to share in dread god's great feast

We laid them down in graves greatly dowered

With weapons and jewellery, then raised we their howes



Great barrows we raised for our gallant kinsmen

In sight of the shore, the sky and the land

And we rejoiced to think of their fortune

To die as warriors in prime of their life



Then tended we to our own body's needings

Binding the wounds that we nobly bore

Our lord himself did Buffy great honour

Kneeling at her side to tend to her hurt



Sunship now sailing far off to the West

Hall now prepared for victory feast

Balefire of demons now slowly diminishing

Roused we for feasting, those of us left



Fast flowed the mead at our celebration

Many the alehorn drunk to its end

Many the stories we told of the battle

Great was our boasting for great were the deeds



Skalds were there to provide entertainment

To tell of great battles and of valorous quests

To sing of Cerdic and his conquest of Britain

To sing of Sigurd, the Walsing betrayed



Of Siegfried and Brunhild and of cursed gold

Of Hagen the traitor, of Edsel the Hun

Of Hermann and of how the Romans he slaughtered

Of Thunor and Frig and all Aesir deeds



The lastly came one skald, new to his trade

'Ere now he was silent as his elders sang

Then he begged leave to tell of our battle

Of Slayer's great victory against demon spawn



Good was his telling, keen was his eye

As he recalled our perilous night

All of our deeds he relayed in words noble

Forgot not the least of all we had done



But most was his praise for Slayer mighty

Buffy the beauteous, Swordmaiden bold

Her armour like starlight, keen sword like lightning

Her face was the sunlight, her tresses like gold



Buffy, the modest, smiled at this description

And rewarded the singer with a gleaming smile

Her companions all laughing, pressed rings upon him

Tokens of gratitude and of great esteem



Then again slumber took us as fires dwindled

Grateful we slept, for this night held no fear

Evil was vanquished, darkness sent howling

So we could sleep free from all doubt



But in the marshes at edge of the farmland

Came a great stirring, a shadow arose

Grim dam of the demon which Buffy had slaughtered

Mother , hag-goddess, seeking revenge