Threes
Words by Mercedes Lackey, music by Leslie Fish


Dm   C        Dm     A      Dm         C       Am
Deep into the stony hills, miles from keep or hold,
  Dm                    F             Dm           A
A troop of guards comes riding with a lady and her gold,
Dm      C     Dm               A               Dm
Riding in the center, shrouded in her cloak of fur,
    Dm           A             G          F   Dm
Companioned by a maiden and a toothless, aged cur.
	F            C      Dm            F        C        A
	Three things see no end: a flower blighted ere it bloomed,
	  Dm                F            Dm      C        Dm
	A message that was wasted, and a journey that was doomed.

One among the guardsmen has a shifting, restless eye,
And as they ride, he scans the hills that rise against the sky.
He wears a sword and bracelet worth more than he can afford,
And hidden in his baggage is a heavy, secret hoard.
	Of three things be wary: of the hungry hunting cat,
	The shepherd eating mutton, and the guardsman that is fat.

From ambush, bandits screaming charge the pack train and its prize.
All but four within the train are taken by surprise,
And all but four are cut down as a woodsman fells a log:
The guardsman and the lady and the maiden and the dog.
	Three things know a secret: first, the lady in a dream,
	The dog who barks no warning, and the maid who does not scream.

Then off the lady pulls her cloak. In armor she is clad.
Her sword is out and ready, and her eyes are fierce and glad.
The maiden gestures briefly and the dog’s a cur no more.
A wolf, sword maid and sorceress now face the bandit corps.
	Three things never anger, or you will not live for long:
	A wolf with cubs, a man with power and a woman’s sense of wrong.

The bandits growl a challenge, but the lady only grins.
The sorceress bows mockingly, and then the fight begins.
When it ends there are but four left standing from that horde:
The witch, the wolf, the traitor, and the woman with the sword.
	Three things never trust in: The maiden sworn as pure,
	The vows a king has given, and the ambush that is ‘sure’

They’ve stripped the traitor naked and they’ve whipped him on his way
Into the barren hillsides, like the folk he used to slay.
They take a thorough vengeance for the women he’s cut down,
And then they mount their horses and they journey back to town.
	Three things trust and cherish well: The horse on which you ride,
	The beast that guards and watches, and the sister at your side.