On the top of the Falconhill...
I was standing surrounded by solitude
Evening breeze as my only friend
It was a beautiful dusk of November
Darkness wrapping around the hills where paths end

To my eyes reflected a distant fire
A fire from far away
A sign our enemy is approaching
From the land beyond the bay

Beyond the mist covered forest on the river I saw
Three dozen ships with crosses on sails
Soon everywhere burnt fires
Mine among the others
From the village a horde was marching
Till death or fame!

To my eyes reflected a distant fire
A fire from far away
A sign our enemy is approaching
From the land beyond the bay

By the time the sun was about to rise above the skyline
The army of the cross and heathen hordes collided

To be continued...