In Gethenhame comforts are good cooking,
a fire, a fight well fought, and a good bed.
Wounded men heal and grow hearty again
spirits high, gods to please and work to do.
While others venture, the Priest has duties.
No glory for him today, no guts to sew,
recovery, respite, praise Thunor’s might.
Clean blades and sharpen, mend, stitch and make good.
Spiraled Narwhal horn, prize of a sea beast
unworked and unknown are its properties.
Knowledge to be found from someone somewhere
all in good time for harvest is due soon.
Hold firm the day, my word is strong. Thunor
grants me weather wisdom for Lytleman
to call the hands of man and boy to reap
and toil and sweat ’til finally ’tis done
Come now, Celebrate and congratulate,
The new Thegn provides for all. Protection
and peace he promises to his people,
with axe and stout heart and gods at his side.
While Thegn and strong men take steel to a bear
fair Nothgyth learns runes, shapes Galdor and voice.
Two Priests has the dene, double god gifted
to help and heal, ward and wise words to give.
Though heal and heal more, sew skin and bind cuts
is all that is done twixt naudr and ar.
Wistan’s wounds need rest, fresh dressing, and sleep,
the fight is for others to take that night.
Runes carved by troll on the bodies of Thegns
make good stories to tell over night’s fire.
So twice more he return’d with fresh tales cut
a saga in blood on head, hand and foot.
Some wise words from your Priest, now hark thee well.
Keep runes from your person, try wood and stone.
In years these will last and be read by all
but gone will be those writ on hide and bone.