A Historical Shaggy Dog Story

[Looking for the latest Historical Fiction Round-up? It's right here. Don't forget to come bqack and read the joke.]

We all know that Alexander the Great was a mighty general. His cutting of the Gordian Knot alone would have made him timeless.

What most people don't know about him is that he planned his battles with great precision, down to the minute and second. There was just one problem. There were no clocks, no watches, no chronometer. A sundial just wasn't precise enough. So he let it be known that he would give his weight in gold to any man who could invent some way of keeping track of time, something that was portable and easy to use. And accurate.

One particularly clever fellow came to Alexander one day with a marvelous invention. Alexander bade him demonstrate the miraculous thing. When the man put a simple strip of cloth on the table before him, Alexander growled and raised his arm to summon his guards to drag the prankster away.

The man pleaded, "No, wait, O Great General. It is not simply a piece of rag. I have soaked it in a secret solution. It will change color for every second, minute and hour. Here, let me show you."

The man took the strip of cloth and tied it around Alexander's wrist. He was relieved that he had thought to make it longer than it would have been for his own wrist, as indeed Alexander's muscular build gave him a large forearm and wrist.

Alexander held up his wrist and gazed at the thing. "Nothing is happening. When will it start to work?"

"I am sorry, my lord, I should have said. It only works if you are out of doors. It depends on the rays of the sun."

Alexander nodded curtly. "Bring him!" he commanded his guards. He led the way out of the building and into the sun, the guards drahhing the poor inventor. They stood in the sun for a moment, then Alexander let out an astonished cry. "Look! It is changing color!"

Everyone gathered around. Indeed, the strip of rag tied around Alexander's wrist had turned a beautiful Adriatic blue. After less than a heartbeat, it changed to a red as dark as Assyrian wine. As the seconds passed, the rag turned yellow, then orange, then purple, then green.

Later the inventor was on his way home with a cartload of gold amounting to his own weight. A neighbor clutched at his arm. "Where did all this gold come from?"

The inventor said, "It was my reward from the great general."

"Whatever for?" his neighbor asked.

"For my latest invention, Alexander's rag time-band."

Historical Fiction Round-up for September 2009

See our first two Historical Fiction Round-ups at the right.

We invite all authors of historical novels from any era and in any sub-genre to use the Comments feature below to tell visitors to this blog about your latest book, with ordering information and anything else you can fit into the box.

I will add a link to all the Round-ups to the sidebar so visitors need not search the entire blog, which is approaching 300 posts, to find information on your book. Our stats are not stellar but they're pretty darn good, averaging about 1200 hits a month.

So.. who will be first? Well, I will, but be sure to get your books up here or on a future Historical Fiction Round-up.

Historical fiction fans! Take a look at Comments below to read about the latest and best historical from the very people who bring them to your anticipating eyes! Feel free to add your 2 kb's worth!

Nan Hawthorne
hawthorne@nanhawthorne.com

To Get a Good Answer You Need to Ask A Good Question

My latest guilty pleasure is Yahoo Answers. You can find both my questions and my (many more)answers via my profile. I incline to "Arts and Humanities" and in particular "History" and "Books and Authors", not surprisingly. It really is an opinionated person's paradise, but I try hard to give good answers, not just my pinhead opinion.

The dismaying thing is what you learn from the questions asked. The first is that people cannot spell. Even ignoring chatspeak like idk and the like, spelling seems to be a dying art. I know, I know, I'm the Typo Queen and have my nerve dumping on that. But that's different... I know how to spell the words.. I am just sloppy.

Another thing I wonder is if teachers know that their students are cribbing their homework here. It's plenty clear that is what is going on, especially when several questions are on the same exact question, such as a recent one in "History" on how American colonists and the Enlightenment were connected. My husband, the oft-quoted Jim, stated the other day that if he was a teacher, and the world would be a much better place if he was, he would check Yahoo! Answers and flunk anyone he caught posting their homework assignments there. I responded that if students asked for leads on where and how to find the answers, I would be quite lenient.

That leads me to my next question. Are these students not being taught how to use reference materials? Is it that they are just too lazy to look things up for themselves or do you they really not know? For example, one girl wanted to know what the word "rouge" from a line in a book meant. I am sure she spent more time and trouble asking the question and waiting for answers than she would have looking on dictionary.com. Another asked for ten interesting facts about the Taj Mahal. I dearly wish I had had the Internet and particularly the web when I was in school. Do those privileged to have grown up with it really so ignorant of how to use it, no less a library? If that is so, why are teachers not teaching them? When I taught a freshman composition class as a graduate student the first thing I did was drag my class to the library and showed them where they could find answers to virtually any question. And now they really can do it virtually! Heck, I just got an answer by emailing a library in England.. and I live in Washington State!

I am almost hesitant to tell Jim that I answered this or that question on Yahoo! Answers. He doesn't approve. As I said, it's a guilty pleasure. I just enjoy answering the silly things.

I've used asking questions to dubious results as well. I recently asked what teens think would make a teen musician, namely my protagonist Kerrick, "hot". I was that age once myself, so I remember long eyelashes and limpid eyes on the likes of Davy Jones and Bobby Sherman. It's pretty much the same now, but they have to be vulnerable and vague (I think she meant "mysterious") now.

I won't sneak out without giving you a few of the questions I've answered. I insist you go there to see my answers.

What happen to the Roanoke Island settlement? 10 pts?
How would you compare the 1950's to present?
Writing a story, how do I make it more casual?
What Is Your Favorite Book Genre? (Duh, idk, George...)
I need a muse. Anyone wanna volunteer?
If the Ancient Greeks were such great thinkers and claimed to be cemented in reason why did they believe all those ridiculous stories about gods and ...?
How did the magna Carta and the English bill of rights introduce many important ideas about government?

And the immortal:

Anybody knows journal entry?

Mine got voted Best Answer for that one. Judge for yourself.

Ah, but I do have fun.

Villains: A Guest Post by Jeri Westerson, Author of "Serpent in the Thorns: A Medieval Noir"

We are delighted to welcome this guest post from Jeri Westerson, whose second novel in the Crispin Guest mystery series, Serpent in the Thorns: A Medieval Noir, is due to be released on September 29th.

Villains

By Jeri Westerson

Villains. Holmes has his Moriarity; Bond has his Blofeld; Maxwell Smart has his Siegfried. For most of us, we don’t have a nemesis (although I’m betting most of you can find someone in the office who can fit the bill).

But in the case of a mystery, there is a need for a villain or villains. He may be the murderer or the one who instigates the actions that lead the hero on his merry chase throughout the novel.

The word stems from old French, meaning a low rustic, a class of serfs. As early as the 1300’s, this term could mean someone who would go out of their way to cause harm.

It’s funny, but I can relate far more to the villain than I can with the hero. What does that say about me, I wonder? In my newest medieval mystery, SERPENT IN THE THORNS, my ex-knight turned detective Crispin Guest is the undoubted hero. He possesses qualities of loyalty, bravery, and self-sacrifice.

I can’t really relate to him, but I can put myself in his shoes like any good actor studying a part, seeking motivation and digging deep enough to make Stanislavski proud. Yes, I can much better identify with the villain.

Now a villain need not be a Snidely Whiplash type, swirling his waxed mustache, and sneering at the hapless female victim in his clutches. A scarier villain is one that is the quiet guy who lives next door. The one that all the neighbors are so surprised had a torture chamber in his basement. It’s the stuff that nightmares are made of.

But I think, for the most part, that your average villain is a narcissist. That is, they want what they want and they do their utmost to get it. I don’t think this makes them necessarily evil, though they might perform evil deeds to satisfy that agenda. No, what sets off these persistent fellows, is the problem of the hero. The hero gets in the way of the villain’s fulfilling his role. And this lays the groundwork for what is to follow: murder, mayhem, and all manner of badness. Sometimes, it just spirals out of control and it’s all the damned hero’s fault.

Then there is the accidental villain, the antagonist, who didn’t mean to murder. It was just that the argument went ballistic...and so did that gun he had trained on the victim. He didn’t mean to pull the trigger...or use that dagger...or spill the poison. They didn’t mean to do it. It was outside influences forcing their hand...or so they would like you to think. So they believe. Denial is a big part of the villains’ make up.

Let’s face it, without the villain—whoever it may be—there is no story. They are the yin to the heroes’ yang; the black to their white; the cold to their hot. Opposites. But perhaps what makes a more interesting villain—and a more interesting hero, for that matter—is when that line cannot be so easily drawn between the two.

Jeri thinks of herself as both hero and villain of her Crispin Guest novels. Decide for yourself by going to www.JeriWesterson.com for an excerpt on her latest release, Serpent in the Thorns: A Medieval Noir.

How's This First Line?

Kerrick Trevalyan held his precious burden high over his head as he gingerly stepped through the rising River Blackwater.

Use Comments below to say what you think is good or and about this first line to a murder mystery.

Instant Time Travel

Saloon owner Miz (Nan) Hawthorne and trapper James "Denver" Tedford with our pet varmint, "Kitty".

Biographies: Elerde of Leon

Elerde of Leon is the "tragi-nasty semi-villain" of An Involuntary King: A Tale of Anglo Saxon England. To find more bios from the novel, visit An Involuntary king: The Stories.

Elerde of Leon [741-c. 800 AD]

Elerde was born in Leon in Cornouaille, one of the kingdoms that later became Brittany, the younger of two surviving sons of a nobleman, Ewen of Leon. As his brother Mihail was expected to inherit Ewen's title and lands, Elerde was destined for the Church.
He was drawn to learning, spoke, read, wrote several languages, and had a particular interest in Ancient Roman poets and military writers. As a boy, however, he trained in the arts of war with his brother, and when he was sent off to Rome in 757 to begin his seminary education, he instead used the money his father had given him to buy himself the armor, weapons, horse and other gear and looked for a lord in whose service he could fight. Not finding one willing to take on such a young man, Elerde joined a band of adventurers and traveled about the Italian peninsula for some years. In 762 he returned to Rome where he found a message that his father had died. Knowing his brother was to inherit, he decided there was no hurry for him to return and he took more than a year before returning to Leon.

When he arrived at his family's stronghold in Leon, he learned that his brother Mikail, an inveterate gambler, had gotten so far into debt that he had had to turn over his lands and all upon them to a more powerful lord in Leon. Elerde, stunned, set off to find his brother. He located him as the young man was about to embark for England to become a soldier of fortune. Elerde, though deeply angry with his brother, chose to go with him. They joined the army of Æthelberht II, king of half Kent, as mercenaries, until Offa, King of Mercia, defeated him and assumed all of Kent into Mercia. Elerde, who had become disgusted with Mihail's drinking and gampbling, left his brother to cope as he could and having shown himself a more than capable leader, formed his own band of mercenaries. He sent to Leon for men he had known as a youth, and many came at his inbitation to join his mercenaries, including his childhood copamio9ns Lagu and Heraral.

For the next few years Elerde and his small company sold his sword to any lord who could afford them. In 766 he found himself in the employ of Gadfried of Tetforde, the cousin of Lawrence, King of Críslicland. Gadfrid commanded him to join the king's service in border battles with some Mercian lords. Gadfrid wanted to ingratiate himself with the king but also commanded Elerde to send reports about battles and plans to him at Tetforde. When the king was seriously wounded in battle, Elerde took the news to Lincoln to the young queen, Josephine, of Críslicland and Affynshire. The two shared a love for Roman poets and soon became friends. One day Elerde, thinking the queen reciprocated his growing passion for her, attempted to seduce her. She spurned him. When the king learned of the Breton's advances, he sent him away to Affynshire's frontiers to strengthen the garrisons there.

While in Affynshire, Elerde ran across malcolm of Horsfort, whom he had fought alongside as mercenaries. The two began to plan a coup in Affynshire, allying themselves with a discontented nobleman, Maegwig of Cross Gates, and old comrades in arms, Ricbeorht of Flanders, Sveun Ormyngel, and Finn O'Donnell. On Beltane, may 1, of 768 the coup was done, Elerde having been given the stronghold of Keito Uxello, Queen Josephine's family's hereditary holding. He had learned just prior to the coup that she was to be there on a visit to her ailing uncle, Earl Ceretic. When the two met he let her go, telling her to get out of Affynshire as he believed the other conspirators would not be squeamish about how they used her to bargain with King Lawrence.

Elerde was, in the meantime, also staying in touch with his former employer, Gadfrid. Whe he learned the queen had only just left the country after a reunion with her husband who was leading the effort to unseat the conspirators and these conspirators began to suspect Elerde was hiding or protecting the queen, he decided to leave the country and return to Críslicland. He arrived sometime after the queen and joined in the usurping of the throne by Gadfrid. Again, participating solely to protect and have access to Josephine, he sent Lagu, one of his soldiers, to find and kill the king. Lawrence's disappearance did not have the effect on the queen he wanted, but he was able first to help her free her imprisoned brother and then to persuade her to flee with him to Northumbria with her children.

When upon their arrival Josephine took refuge at the Holy Isle of Lindisfarne and told Elerde she would not continue to flee with him, he left in despair with his company to find "a battle so fierce I cannot possibly survive."

This biography will continue in the near future.

Imahe: Yes, that's Ioan Gruffud as Lancelot in the 20041 film King Arthur. Wanna change your vote?

Is Your Novel On our Calendar?

Mayhap you have had a chance to check out our Today in Medieval History daily online calendar.

Mayhap you have noticed the instructions on the page that tells you how to add this calendar to your blog or web site?

But mayhap you do not know that if your novel, old or new, depicts a famous event in medieval history -- an d we define that as being between 500 and 1600 AD give or take -- we would be pleased as Punch to at least print your title and ordering information and would also like to print an excerpt from your book describing some aspect of the event!

All you have to do is send us your title, the ISBN and, if including an excerpt, a Word or text file attachment to hawthorne@nanhawthorne.com with the subject line "for the medieval calendar" or words to that effect.

For some examples, take a look at these pages:

19 April 1536
5 August 1192
22 August 1485

The blog is an Amazon Associate site.

Questions? Contact us at hawthorne@nanhawthorne.com!

P.S. We even want to know about books you read about these events. For instance, anyone know of a book that tells how Ben Jonson, the playwright and poet, came to be arrested for manslaughter?

Letters from Ghosts

o all novelists come to see their characters as more real than they themselves are? i have.

I started Ghostletters, an email group, almost fifteen years ago. In it subscribers post as historical or fictional characters, never as themselves. For these very many years we have had every conceivable type of character, both original and derived fictional characters, and historical figures from Richard III to Samuel Clemens.

Today one of our number in his guise of a humorous little blue demon posted a tribute to a former member, Lisa Schmidt, who recently died. The tribute was lovely, speaking about how the mind and heart of the individual called Lisa had made worlds with us that will stay with all of us who knew her and loved the characters she "played" with. I happened to be on "sabbatical" from the group for most of the time Lisa was on it, so I read the little demon's words with a touch of envy for not having a share in that magic.

We lost another bright creative light on the group about a year ago. Anne Fraser was a bubbling font of laughter and creativity. I only knew her briefly, but others had spent long years in her company in the guise of a French vampire queen, an Elizabethan actor, and numerous other choice creations.

We miss Lisa and Anne of course. But for some reason the loss of the gray matter that created and shared Clem and Connell and Genevieve and Gabriel Tallant is striking me harder. I already knew my whole purpose in writing my own first novel was that one day I realized I would not be here forever. I thought of my king and queen and my Irish minstrels and could not bear the fact that when I was gone, so would all of them. I had to give them a separate home from my memory. Now I can hope that at least some people feel they know Lawrence, Shannon, and the rest.

What's hitting me after reading the post today on Ghostletters is that in many ways I can cope with the idea of my own passing better than I can with the snuffing out of the neurons that store my stories. I wonder if this is true of other novelists? Even if you write about historical figures, the essence of their personalities and lives that you made from the sketchy details of their reality makes them more real than real somehow.

I think of Lymond who lives on after Dorothy Dunnett, his author. He is keenly real to me. Is that what it means to succeed by giving a concept flesh? I hope Dunnett knew that there were people who would keep him alive, for long after she slipped off this mortal coil.

I think of all your characters, too numerous to list, that include Piers and Simon and Llewelyn and Brian and Elizabeth and Amparu and Patrick and Richard and Robin and... and... all of whom will reside in my head and heart though your location on this Earth is unknown to me.

I hope I can take Lawrence and the others with me wherever I go after I die, or if that is nowhere, that in some form they will remain alive and vibrant when I am nothing more than a name on a book cover. After all, they are more real than I am in the long run.

Names That Became Everyday Words –Too Late for You

You probably won’t be writing about anyone gerrymandering in Ancient Greece or say that Marie Antoinette wore a “Mae West “. But there are some words that well-respected historical novelists let slip into their stories without realizing that the persons from whom the names were “lifted” weren’t even born the year the story took place. For instance, characters in Michael Jecks’ The Abbot’s Gibbet worry about being “lynched by a lynch mob” in the time of Edward II.

Or is it that cut-and-dried? Could some of these words have been mistakenly attributed to famous names?

boycott

Captain Charles Boycott (1832-1897) was the agent of an absentee English landlord in County Mayo, Ireland. When tenants demanded lower rents, Boycott evicted them. The tenants decided that instead of resorting to violence to protest the evictions, they would convince everyone to refuse to deal with him in any business situation. The word boycott came to mean to refuse to buy a product in order to use the economic hardship to change the behavior of a business. This one is a true case of a “timely” word that cannot be used in stories that take place before 1880 when it was first used in print.

Lynch

There are several people named Lynch whose behavior may have caused their names to be synonymous with extra judicial hanging sentences. One may be James Lynch, the mayor of Galway, Ireland, who hanged his own son from their house’s balcony for the murder of a Spanish visitor in 1483. This is disputed, but is as logical as the other attributions in colonial Virginia. Depending on how Jecks spelled it, however, it might be quite “timely” as it may actually derive from the word “linch” meaning “to beat severely with a pliable instrument, to chastise or to maltreat”. It appeared in print as “Lynch” in 1836, as “linch” no earlier than 1570 when it meant “to limp”.

martinet

Here is another one that may or may not fit this definition. It is true that Louis XIV’s Inspector General of the Army was named Jean Martinet, but a “martinet” is also a type of whip. Another interpretation comes from a witch trial from the early 1500s where the women tried referred to the Devil as Martinet (maistre Martinet), or the Little Master (petit maistre). First in print in1670 or in the final instance above, by Ben Jonson in 1609 in Masque Queens B 2, “Their litle Martin is he that calls them to their Conuenticles.”.

masochism

A verified “timely” word often, with “sadism” noted by historical novelists as a no-no in books taking place before the man’s stay on Earth. Leopold Ritter[1] von Sacher-Masoch (1836–1895) was a poet and novelist, as well as the author of a progressive literary review that preached against antisemitism and for the emancipation of women. In his private life he gave himself to a certain baroness as a sexual slave. Later the second half of his last name became synonymous with a sexual aberration where a person, the masochist, requires cruelty to enjoy the act. It now can mean nothing more than a person who likes to be unhappy. But if your novel takes place before 1886. it is off limits. That is, the word is off limits… you can use the disorder undiagnosed.

quisling

You can say Robert the Bruce betrayed William Wallace, but you can’t say Bruce was a quisling. Vidkun Quisling collaborated with nazi Germany against his homeland, Norway. You may not use the term to denote a traitor or collaborator unless it is being used after December 28, 1941, when it was first used thus by Winston Chrchill in an address to the American Congress.

sadism

Donatien Alphonse François, marquis de Sade (1740–1814) predates his partner in sado-masochism, but he is just as “timely”. He was an aristocrat, revolutionary and writer of novels, short stories, plays and political tracts. He is better known in common parlance for being, well, a sadist. He lived a scandalous life of debauchery that included abuse – unlike Masoch, of others. In one famous episode a woman he had imprisoned and abused physically and sexually escaped to tell the world, after which de Sade was put under surbveillence and caught at it. His name did not become a diagnosis until 1843. Sio, again, you can create all the sadistic characters you want. You just can’t call them that until after 1843.

sideburns

Also called sideboards, sideburns is basically a full beard with the chin shaved bare. That leaves the moustache and “sideburns”. A similar fashion is called mutton chops, as a result of their shape. The man whose name was adopted for the former term, sort of, was Ambrose Everett Burnside (1824–1881), a Union general in the American Civil War. His habit of wearing his facial hair as described here resulted in the style called burnsides and later sideburns. How likely you are to want to say your Roman era protagonist wore sideburns is dubious, but if you do, call it something else.


Other words for which you might check the derivation before using them in your historical novel are: cardigan and raglan, jumbo, pompadour, chauvinism, rubenesque and “Wellies”.

"Stories of Queen Agony"

As other writers have noted, it can be as revealing as it is confusing to see what people who find your site were actually looking for. The following are the keywords used by several individuals from many parts of the world that landed them on my blog, An Involuntary King: The Stories.

Right: Great hall "yarn painting"

At this point, by the way, in the posting of the new stories that went into the construction of the novel, we are into a sequence that did not make the final cut, that being the humiliating visit of Shannon to the country of his birth, Ireland. And we just completed a murder mystery.. which also never happened. See what you missed?!

The keywords

accidental king

Well, involuntary and accidental are not the same thing. Nifhmund's murder of Lawrence's father was quite purposeful, though the result was not quite what he had in mind. He would have been a thoroughly voluntary king!

stories about homecoming

A completely football free homecoming, but it made my husband tear up.

what is rescued

I don't know. I just don't know.

the invention of lifting 2209

Are we going to have to wait that long? It will be hard to avoid tripping over all the stuff we can't lift. And what in the world does this have to do with my novel?

involuntary king

There are others?!

calamities that happened in the world

As opposed to those that happened off-world, I guess.

Kings in Old Stories

You are in luck. I have several.

story samir

Again, are there others??? But thanks for asking.

TAVISHSON

In the Old Stories Tavish is the son of the King.. but in the "actually faithful forever" later stories, he's Ansovald's and Gwelian's. But somehow I don't think that's the confusion here.

shannon death

I know... I am still mourning.

yarn painting

I guess I better find out what these people were interested in.. I thought I invented this craft.

stories about victims of calamities

Well, it was a calamity to them.

Writing story King's wife river throne

Actually, the throne wasn't very close to the river.

alternate reality stories of queen agony

I am sure the queen in my stories should have liked an alternate ending where there wasn't so much agony.

Not as clever as Susan Higginbotham's quips, I know.. but there it is. So sue me.

Rescue the Queen

Or let the queen rescue someone else!


Right click and choose "save as..." to save this maze to print out later.

What Is the Opposite of "Modesty"?

Why is it that when I went online to find quotes that question the absolute virtue of modesty I found little, even from Oscar Wilde? And why, when I sought the opposite of "modesty" what I found was "Pride", "vanity" and "arrogance"? Why are quotes about pride always negative? If it's such a terrible thing, why do we use it to denote self-respect of an entire group, such as Black Pride and Gay Pride?

I love this line from Whitman: "I celebrate myself, I sing myself!" And why the hell not? If there is anything I can't stand it's all this modesty among authors. I heard from an author friend the other day telling me that she had won an honor, much to her surprise. Now I read the novel she is being patted on the back for. I understand completely why she is being recognized. It is a terrific novel, and I enjoyed it immensely.

She's not the only author who has told me that my words of praise are "kind". Kind has nothing to do with it. What does is appreciation, respect, and intelligent discernment.

Having written a book many years ago about women and self esteem, I'm not really all that surprised, but I am still quite saddened. This plague of modesty is not just a female ill, but we have raised it to a fine art. For some reason we think a sense of accomplishment, pride in our talent and work, is a dishonorable thing. We should fold our hands, blush and keep our eyes down.

But isn't this an insult to everyone who reads our work, enjoys it, admires it, and tells us so? When my friend tells me I am being kind, is she not implying that I have no freaking idea what I am talking about?

First, I want to hear the author say, "Thanks, I am so glad you feel that way."

Then I want to hear her feeling good about what she achieved. Otherwise why did she do it? As my husband says in his inimitable way, "If it's not good, then why is she wasting everyone's time with it?"

The fact is that all of us are talented. Some are more so than others, but frankly I don't see this as a competition. We should be celebrating ourselves, singing ourselves. Accepting praise with candid pleasure.

You know what? I am sharp as a tack. I write very well and have some skills that are well above average. I'm also wildly resourceful. I love to help people and am virtually tireless. So are many other people. Others still have many other qualities. Yes, they do, and if any of them tell me saying so is kind, I will start screaming.

Celebrate yourself, sing yourself... damn it.

"Say it loud! 'I'm a terrific writer and I'm proud!'"

An Anglo Saxon Riddle

he people of Anglo Saxon England loved riddles. The telling and solving of these early interactive poems was a major source of entertainment for young and old around the campfire or fire pit, and luckily for us many such riddles were recorded in The Exeter Book. Here is just one of 91 such which you can find in Old English and Modern English at http://www2.kenyon.edu/AngloSaxonRiddles/texts.htm.

Riddle 37

Writings reveal this creature's plain
Presence on middle-earth, marked by man
For many years. Its magic, shaping power
Passes knowing. It seeks the living
One by one, winds an exile's road,
Wanders homeless without blame, never there
Another night. It has no hands or feet
To touch the ground, no mouth to speak
With men or mind to know the books
Which claim it is the least of creatures
Shaped by nature. It has no soul, no life,
Yet it moves everywhere in the wide world.
It has no blood or bone, yet carries comfort
To the children of men on middle-earth.
It has never reached heaven and cannot reach
Hell--but must live long through the word
And will of the king of creation's glory.
It would take too long to tell its fate
Through the world's web: that would be
A wonder of speaking. Each man's way
Of catching the creature with words is true.
It has no limbs, yet it lives!
If you can solve a riddle quickly,
Say what this creature is called.

Riddle 71

I grew in the ground, nourished by earth
And cloud-until grim enemies came
To take me, rip my living from the land,
Strip my years-shear, split, shape me
So that I ride homeless in a slayers hand,
Bent to his will. A busy sting,
I serve my lord if strength and strife
On the field endure and his hold is good.
We gather glory together in the troop,
Striker and death-step, lord and dark lunge

My neck is slim, my sides are dun,
My head is bright when the battle-sun
Glints and my grim loving lord bears me
Bound for war. Bold soldiers know
That I break in like a brash marauder,
Burst the brain-house, plunder halls
Held whole before. From the bone-house
One breaks ready for the road home.
Now the warrior who feels the thrust
Of my meaning should say what I'm called.

Find the solutions at the very bottom of the right hand column on this page.
http://historicallyoffcenter.blogspot.com/p/quiz-answers.html