Sorcerer

I.

They came through the catacombs, soundless

in their armor. The man in the lead kicked through

a thick door on his second attempt and the twelve

(for twelve there were) rushed into the cavern

with weapons drawn. The ceiling of the mountain's belly

hung twenty feet above their heads. The area was dimly lit

by oil-soaked rags and in a corner a man sat with two women.

The three stood up in fear and the younger woman of the two,

fat still on her face but not upon her hips, came toward the soldiers

with arms outstretched, shrieking incantations in a language

they did not speak.

A short man, made taller by his sword, stepped forward,

pierced her through the heart with a casual flick of his arm,

and she fell, her cursing paused, deadly danger muted.

The prey's beard was disheveled and there were stains

on his shirt. His belt was bare, he held not even a kitchen knife.

"After so long you have come. I admit I thought it would

take less time. Long years ago we were enemies, it is true,

but I thought your land one that would accept retreat

and not hound a man until he sees his daughter slain!

I have cast no new spells against your hearths and homes.

Our battle was long ago, yet you have spent

the wealth of whole nations, murdering so many thousands,

and all in search of an old man."

The man with a bloody sword had a hungry mouth

but his course was delayed by the commander of the squad.

"Enemy of the empire," the commander said,

"You have been condemned in your absence."

His mouth was dry and he walked slowly across the mountain

and took a dagger from its sheath and ran it into his quarry's

kidneys, first the right and then the left, and marveled that

the dying so often display an unnerving silence.

"Take his body. Leave the women."

The largest of the twelve brave men made clothed his naked blade

and took the corpse of the sorcerer from the rock.

II.

He was smaller in death than when he made the earth shake,

his violence a threat mothers gave their children to help them sleep.

He was guilty because he had been condemned

and he had an obligation to vindicate justice.

He was ragged in the way that sacks of potatoes are

when they are left forgotten in musty cupboards

and then discovered, all hoary like frost in early summer.

His body was hung from the capitol walls

and the emperor performed ritual sacrifice of a bull

and held a feast and consolidated his political position.