by
Mercedes Lackey and
Leslie Fish
Taken from "Heralds Harpers & Havoc:
Songs by Mercedes Lackey" by Off Centaur
Deep into the stoney hills
miles from town or hold
a troop of guards comes riding
with a lady and her gold.
She rides bemused among them
shrouded in her cloak of fur
companioned by a maiden
and a toothless, aged cur.
Three things see no end,Little does the lady care
a flower blighted err it bloomed,
a message that miscarries
and a journey that is doomed.
Three things are most perilous:One among the guardsmen
the shape that walks behind,
ice that will not hold you
and the spy you cannot find.
Of three things be weary ofFrom ambush bandits screaming charge
a feather on a cat,
a sheperd eating mutton
and a guardsman that is fat.
Three things hold a seceret-Then off the lady pulls her cloak
lady riding in a dream,
the dog who sounds no warning
and the maid who does not scream.
Three things never angerThe lady and her sister
or you will not live for long,
a wolf with cubs, a man with power,
and a woman's sense of wrong
Three things that it's better farThe bandits growled a challenge
that only two should know,
where treasure hides,
who shares your bed
and how to catch your foe.
Three things never trust in:They stripped the traitor naked
the maiden sworn as pure,
the vows a king has given
and the ambush that is sure.
Three things trust above all else:
the horse on which you ride,
the beast the guards your sleeping
and your shieldmaid at your side.