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For My Teachers
July AS XXXVII. (July 2002)

One year it took, to make my armour,

To train, to authorize

And the help of many came to me

Along the way.

But there were five who stood out

Who taught me how to fight

(or rather how to die)

how to face a charge, throw a blow

and take one.

First was Berus, Jarl and Knight,

Fresh from his reign as King

Who took two newbies under his wing

Taught without pushing, hit without thrashing.

From whom we learned our basics

Then Eanor, Duchess, who taught us

Tactics and enforced out throws.

Then the fighters of Skeldergate, too long to list,

But chief amongst them

Streonwald, Hlaford, who took me aside,

Adjusted my shot,

And finally got me to use my hips.

Then Kenric, Squire, who improved my stance

And got me throwing combos.

Finally, Brandt, leather-Lord,

One of our first, but listed last

As his training time was greatest

Nights spent in his yard, throwing at pells,

Days spent in the shieldwall while he poked and prodded.

I only hope that they know how much their time has meant to us

And that any glory that I win,

I lay at their feet.

To my teachers

Wassail

And Thanks.