"Tell me, tell me, Garrath Sharpsword, tell me why you
hurry so?"
"Hush me cousin, hush and listen," and his face was
all aglow
"I bear orders from Queen Kallyr, get you ready quick
and soon
With your spear upon your shoulder for to rise against
the Moon!"
"Tell me, tell me, Garrath Sharpsword, where the
gatherin' is to be?"
"At the Hill of Orlanth's Vict'ry, right well known to
you and me."
"One more thing, the signal token?" "Whistle up the
marching tune,
For our spears must be together for to rise against
the Moon."
Out from many a mud-walled cabin, eyes were lookin'
through the
night;
Many a Urox head was throbbin' in the baleful red
moonlight.
A cry arose among the freemen, like some banshee's
mournful croon,
And a thousand spears were flashing for to rise
against the Moon.
All along the sacred hilltop one great mass of men was
seen,
And from the brow of Kallyr bright shone forth a
starry gleam.
"Death to every foe and traitor! Onward, strike the
marching tune,
"And hurrah! me boys for freedom, for to rise against
the Moon!"
Well they fought for dear old Sartar, and full bitter
was their fate,
For their vict'ry there was squandered and they fled
from Lunar hate.
But thank Orlanth! now are beating hearts to sound the
war-cry soon,
Who will follow in their footsteps, for to rise
against the Moon!
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