This is an original ballad in the "filk" tradition (Click here to learn more about filk). It is from the point of view of Ahmed in The Thirteenth Warrior. Click here to hear the music!

Sounds in the Sand

Words and tune by Valerie Housden

Another day's hard riding, a day nearer our goal
And yet my heart is empty, there's a gnawing in my soul,
For though I sit here with you in the campfire's warmth and light,
We are still separated as day is from night.

For the tongue in which you laugh and jest is different from my own,
And as I don't understand you, I feel utterly alone.
But I will learn your language if it's the last thing I do,

So you can speak to me and I can talk to you.

And so I sit and listen to the sounds that you say
And try to imitate your words as best I may.
And I hope that very soon I'll begin to understand,
So that one day I can draw the sounds you make in the sand.

It wasn't always thus, you know, my life was once so sweet.
I was a poet at the Court, my happiness complete
But I fell in love with an angel, I hoped she might love me,
But jealousy prevailed, and I was banished across the sea.

I journeyed as I was ordered to a strange and foreign land,
My travelling companion a wise and kindly old man,
But when the bandits found us, we thought our peril dire,
We fled and met your longship, yes, we rode into the fire.

The old man tried to speak with you, assure you we are friends,
A sad and hopeless venture doomed to failure in the end.
For we are so divided by the different words we say,
But he found one among you who spoke the Roman way,*
And so he listened to you and told me what you said,
How you mourned for your lost king who now was lying dead.
And little did I realise the day soon be here
When I would have to ride with you to fight those you most fear.

So now I sit and listen to the sounds that you say,
And try to imitate your words as best I may.
And I hope that very soon I'll begin to understand,
So that one day I can draw the sounds you make in the sand.

Another dawn, we saw another longship in the mist
A boy stood alone, so you would know just what he is,
A messenger, a prince, with an urgent plea for aid,
The oracle was summoned, there's a scrying to be made.
The number of the war party must be the number of the moons,
And so the volunteers stepped up, the quest could begin soon.

But when she held the final bone, my friend's words chilled my mind.
The last one in that warrior band must not be one of your kind.

And so I ride alongside you all, yet I am quite alone,
Until I can speak your tongue, I'm in a world of my own.
But as I listen to you, the sounds begin to change,
And slowly but surely they no longer seem so strange.
My patience is rewarded, my struggle at an end,
The time has come for me to turn from a burden into a friend,
And as you laugh and jest at me, secure from my attack,
What will you do when I dare to answer you all back.

For I have sat and listened to the sounds that you say,
And tried to imitate your words as best I may.
And hoped that very soon I would begin to understand,
So that one day I could draw the sounds you make in the sand.

Will you let me draw the sounds you make in the sand?

(c) Valerie R Housden 2001

*Before someone corrects me, I don't know Greek but I do know Latin and I can repeat a lot of Herger's dialogue. Melchisadech first addresses him in Greek (I recognise that much!) but Herger replies in Latin and continues thereafter in Latin.(Author's note)

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