A
KNIGHT OF
GHOSTS
AND
SHADOWS
How shall we tell it, brothers, the tale of Bodin’s raid? Whence can we draw the words of wrath and sorrow, the words of valor and vengeance? Who today is a poet such as Andrei Simich, singer of heroes?
For Andrei, words ran to command, baying and belling like a pack of hounds in pursuit through mountains where echoes fly. The words of Andrei thundered like tundra beneath a herd of gromatz, shrieked like wind around the wings of the orlik as it stoops upon its prey, roared like a dyavo hunting—then sounded low and sweet, whether deadly as the call of a vilya or innocent as the song of a guslar in springtime.
Human and zmay together thrilled at the lays of Andrei when he celebrated the olden heroes, Yovan Matavuly who led the Founders the long lightless way to this our Morning Star, Toman Obilich who slew wild Vladimir on the crown of the Glacier, Gwyth who dared the storms of the Black Ocean, Stefan Miyatovich—great ancestor of Gospodar Bodin—who in the depths of the Night Years cast back the reavers from our very homes. Ah, well could Andrei Simich have sung the deeds of Bodin!
But his voice is departed. That the glory of Bodin Miyatovich go not from memory, let us find what poor plain words we may.
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