Soldier's Song
Joxer hurried to get across the tavern. He was up to play next and the man singing had reached the last verse of the ballad. If he wanted dinner with his room tonight, he had to be ready.
He had wandered off from Xena and Gabby a couple of weeks back and had been singing for his supper at the Sparrow Inn for most of that time. The customers seemed to like his music. The owner said it made a good change from ballads and legends that made up most of the night-time entertainment. So, he would sing and play the lute twice a night.
Tonight though, Joxer was a bit nervous. He had been working on a song more melancholy than his usual lighthearted offerings. It would be the first time he played it for anyone. Joxer reached the raised platform just as the current performer stood to take his bow. As Joxer took his place on the stool, he gently ran through the intro before taking a deep breath and starting his song.
Sing me a song my friend
and I’ll play the melody.
He let the notes build to a slow and steady strum before adding his voice. Softer than his usual boisterous delivery, Joxer’s voice blended with the lute, ringing clear for all that it was pitched low, and thrumming through the audience, turning many away from their meals and conversations.
Sing me the songs of the Fallen
Lend your voice,
We’ll shake the fields with our sorrow.
As if the tavern melts away, the words he sung conjured a field once green. It holds a great pyre, flames licking at the black velvet sky. A lone figure stands sentry lips forming a silent lament for the lost.
Sing me the songs of our Homeland
To remind me why I’m here,
What I’m fighting for.
A boy barely old enough to be called a man pulls himself from the embrace of his family, the only world he has known. Before he turns and strides out the door into a world he might not yet be ready for.
Sing me a song like a lullaby
Near the warmth of the fire
So I can forget that I’m scarred.
A man sits staring into a fire as all around him his comrades go about the business of settling down an army for the night. Quietly, he starts to hum; a soldier to his right picks up the song and is soon joined by voices all across the camp.
Sing me a song my friend,
Sing me a song.
There was not a sound in the tavern, just the drifting lute. They waited, poised, almost breathless in anticipation for the words to come. Even as they ached at the last.
Sing a song of hope and tomorrow
Of growing old and staying young,
Of treasure and adventure.
Cradling his childhood friend in his arms, a man scarred from years of battle whispers soothing words to the dying man. Trying to ease his friend’s passage, never noticing the tears that slip down his own cheeks.
Sing me the songs of Victory
To the rhythm of flashing steel
The chorus a battle cry.
A training yard echoes with the clash of dulled blades, with the slap of bodies hitting dirt and the twang of bows releasing their arrows. Recruits chant as they struggle to march in time.
Sing me a song of Courage
So I can find the strength
To be a Hero.
Warriors ranged in a snaking line across the battlefield. Mounted on a massive warhorse, the leader gave his men words of encouragement. Of hope for life and victory but also of an honored afterlife. It would be a good day to die.
Sing me a song my friend
and I’ll play the melody.
The last notes swirled through the room, fading into silence as the crowed sat spellbound. Oblivious, Joxer started another tune, this one strangely evocative of rainy afternoons, though he sang not a word. Slowly, the room began to move again. Dinners finished their meals and friends returned to their conversations.
-END-
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