gawaine

As the falling sun, my rage cools in the evening and tears sing to the bright-face moon. The determination of blood seeps out and the wind whispers of doubt and distance. The sounds of the bitter camp fall away into shadows and I am alone on the hill.

I think of the man.

And every fear strangles my throat. Oh not of his sword. Nor his lance. Though he is my better and my death, of no wound do I fear. I quake in thought of his love. And his mercy. I am afraid that when he can strike, he will abstain. And I will dog him tomorrow and the next. That my rage will never end. I fear his eyes: those lion eyes bent in sorrow. I fear my name gentle on his tongue.

But then I remember my brother. Though he wronged more, though he slew my very sons, it is the child of the fair hands, I recall. No one loved the traitor more. In my place, I know Beaumains would still ride at the traitor's side. Yet the rotted Dulac rode my brother down without a thought. Remembering not his charge, his naming, his honor. Dulac did not even know the broken body he tread. Love was extinguished in ignorance. And in this dishonor my rage returns.

Yet one brother still lives, and feasts upon our abandoned home. I know my rage splits our nation; it breaks us as bread for vultures. I remember every foolish word of my life. As a bard's song, every trap I sprung, every curse I hazarded, every dance of humiliation, it all surrounds me. And I know I am ending my days in my greatest folly.

But I recall those ridiculed hands. Innocent hands. Trampled in the dust of a cuckold. I remember the blood and the bones. I imagine the kind words meant to halt his friend and master. And Dulac did not even remember my brother's demise. His shock is graven upon my mind. And every time I falter in this quest, I remember the traitor's shock when I told him upon the field.

Dulac destroys with his forbidden lust, my living brother with his appetite, yet I feed them both with my rage.

I have been the fool and I will be reborn the fool tomorrow. But in the night, I despise my wisdom.