Mercedes Lackey - Oathbreaker

And you think it cannot be too hard --

And you dream of becoming a hero or lord

With your praises sung out by some bard.

Well now, let me then venture to give you advice

And when all of my lecture is done

We will see if my words have not made you think twice

About whether adventuring's "fun!"

Now before you seek shelter or food for yourself

Go seek first for those things for your beast

For he is worth far more than praises or pelf

Though a fool thinks to value him least.

If you've ever a moment at leisure to spare

Then devote it, as if to your god,

To his grooming, and practice, and weapons-repair

And to seeing you both are well-shod.

Eat you lightly and sparingly-never full-fed --

For a full belly founders your mind.

Ah, but sleep when you can-it is better than bread --

For on night-watch no rest will you find.

Do not boast of your skill, for there's always one more

Who would prove he is better than you.

Treat swordladies like sisters, and not like a whore

Or your wenching days, child, will be few.

When you look for a captain, then look for the man

Who thinks first of his men and their beasts,

And who listens to scouts, and has more than

one plan,

And heeds not overmuch to the priests.

And if you become captain, when choosing your men

Do not look at the "heroes" at all.

Forahero dies young-rather choose yourself ten

Or a dozen whose pride's not so tall.

Now your Swordmaster' s god-whosoever he be --

When he stands there before you to teach

And don't argue or whine, think to mock foolishly

Or you'll soon be consulting a leech'

Now most booty is taken by generals and kings

And there's little that's left for the low

So it's best that you learn skills, or work at odd things

To keep food in your mouth as you go.

And last, if you should chance to reach equal my years

You must find you a new kind of trade

For the plea that you're still spry will fall on deaf ears --

There's no work for old swords, I'm afraid.

Now if all that I've told you has not changed your mind

Then I'll teach you as best as I can.

For you're stubborn, like me, and like me of the kind

Becomes one ./we swords-woman or -man!

(Captain Idra)

This is the price of commanding --

That you always stand alone,

Letting no one near

To see the fear

That's behind the mask you've grown.

This is the price of commanding.

This is the price of commanding --

That you watch your dearest die,

Sending women and men

To Bght again,

And you never tell them why.

This is the price of commanding.

This is the price of commanding,

That mistakes are signed in red --

And that you won't pay

But others may,

And your best may wind up dead.

This is the price of commanding.

This is the price of commanding --

All the deaths that haunt your sleep.

And you hope they forgive

And so you live

With your memories buried deep.

This is the price of commanding.

This is the price of commanding --

That if you won't, others will.

So you take your post,

Mindful of each ghost --

You've a debt to them to fill.

This is the price of commanding.

(Jadrek)

I sit amid the dusty books. The dust invades my very soul.

It coats my heart with weariness and chokes it with despair.

My life lies beached and withered on a lonely, bleak, uncharted shoal.

There are no kindred spirits here to understand, or care.

When I was young, how often I would feed my hungry mind with tales

And sought the fellowship in books I did not find in kin.

For one does not seek friends when every overture to others fails

So all the company I craved I built from dreams within.

Those dreams-from all my books of lore I plucked the wonders one by one

And waited for the day that I was certain was to come

When some new hero would appear whose quest had only now begun

With desperate need of lore and wisdom I alone could plumb.

And then, ah then, I'd ride away to join with legend and with song.

The trusted friend of heroes, figured in their words and deeds.

Until that day, among the books I'd dwell -- but I have dwelt too long

And like the books I sit alone, a relic no one needs.

I grow too old, I grow too old, my aching bones have made me lame

And if my futile dream came true, I could not live it now.

The time is past, long past, when I could ride the wings of fleeting fame

The dream is dead beneath the dust, as 'neath the dust I bow.

So, unregarded and alone I tend these fragments of the past

Poor fool who bartered life and soul on dreams and useless lore.

And as I watch despair and bitterness enclose my heart at last

Within my soul's dark night I cry out, "Is there nothing more?"

(Kethry: Oathbound)

Most folk avoid the Pelagir Hills, where ancient

wars and battles

Were fought with magic, not with steel, for land

and gold and chattels.

Most folk avoid the forest dark for magics still

surround it

And change the creatures living there and all

that dwell around it.

Within a tree upon a hill that glowed at night

with magic

There lived a lizard named Gervase whose life

was rather tragic.

His heart was brave, his mind was wise. He

longed to be a wizard.

But who would ever think to teach their magic

to a lizard?

So poor Gervase would sit and dream, or sigh as

sadly rueing

That fate kept him forever barred from good he

could be doing.

That he had wit and mind and will it cannot be

debated

He also had the kindest heart that ever gods

created.

One day as Gervase sighed and dreamed all in

the forest sunning

He heard a noise of horse and hound and sounds

of two feet running.

A human stumbled to his glade, a human worn

and weary

Dressed in a shredded wizard's robe, his eyes past hope and dreary.

The magic of his birthplace gave Gervase the

gift of speaking.

He hesitated not at all-ran to the wizard,

squeaking,

"Hide human, hide! Hide in my tree!" he danced

and pointed madly.

The wizard stared, the wizard gasped, then hid

himself right gladly.

Gervase at once lay in the sun until the hunt

came by him

Then like a simple lizard now he fled as they

came nigh him.

And'glowered in the hollow tree and hissed when

they came near him

And bit a few dogs' noses so they'd yelp and leap

and fear him.

"Thrice damn that wizard!" snarled his foe. "He's

slipped our hunters neatly.

The hounds have surely been misled. They've

lost the trail completely."

He whipped the the dogs off of the tree and sent

them homeward running

And never once suspected it was all Gervase's

cunning.

The wizard out of hiding crept. "Thrice blessing

I accord you!

And is there somehow any way I can at all re-ward you?"

"I want to be a man like you!" Gervase replied

unthinking.

"A wizard-or a man?" replied the mage who

stared, unblinking.

"For I can only grant you one, the form of man,

or power.

What will you choose? Choose wisely, I must

leave within the hour."

Gervase in silence sat and thought, his mind in

turmoil churning.

And first the one choice thinking on, then to the

other turning.

Yes, he could have the power he craved, the