Fathom 2005



Inside Cover



Sara Squires (2)
Ann Leslie (2)
Jennifer Clarke
Patricia Murray
Kari Gunderson
Heather E. Thomson
B.D. Mitchell
Wesley Colbath
Brooke Gray
Christopher Misura
Robyn Goldsmith
Michael Kimber
Italian Stallion
Oghomwen Ehigie
B. C. Hackett
Deanna Foster
Jonathan Rotztain
Sarah Lofton


Jonathan Rotztain
Robyn Goldsmith
Sonjel Vreeland
Connor Robinson


Deanna Foster



The Battle Field

Slice and dice, the axe comes down
Thumping in to your skull with a cracking sound
As the bone splits
Then gush and bubble bubble as the blood
Spills out onto the ground.
Screams and cries, walling on the field
While my mace spins through the air
Smashing your face and
Rip rip as your eye is torn out
With the top of your skull on the ground.

My horse’s hooves are loud when they make
Contact with the frozen ground
But soft at the same time
As snow and blood become slush.
I hear his breath panting as we come to a halt
Then hear his heart beating as we begin to charge
Down the hill once more, my sword raised high
The tear through the fabric
Then through your skin echo’s all around.

I look to the enemy and my heart beats like a drum
“Archers!” He calls, where the Hell is my shield?
Down the arrows rain upon us, slicing they air.
I hear them thump and vibrate
When they make love to my shield.

The horse is scared and starts to run
The reins on my hands burn through the gloves
I hear his voice, the neighing and screaming
While I try to hold him under control.
Loud hoofs through my helmet
But it’s not my horse in my ears.

But it’s too late, I hear his scream of joy
As he knocks me off my horse with a twack!
His lance was somehow harder then wood
When it hit me on the back and sent me
Crashing to my knees, my amour clunking
And chair mail sleeking against the plates.

I turn just in time to see him charge,
Bellowing and sword over head coming at me
Without remembering the thought going to the brain
My dagger is out and into this stomach then out again.
And I am showered upon with spraying blood.
He falls next to me, lying on the ground,
Gurgle gurgle, the blood boils in his throat.

To my feet as quick as I can, my mace in hand
The heavy armour weightless with adrenaline
My senses on fire, more alive then ever,
I need my eyes but I need my ears more for
The arrows and swords that come from behind.
I’m ready with my own blade to take on theirs.

I scream, I’m shrieking, is that my own voice
Echoing in the depth of my helmet?
Yes, and I’m surrounded, three against one.
The first blow of their axe came fast
But only put me to my knees
Crunching the still unspoiled snow.
I roll as fast as I can and with my sword
Create an agonizing “Aieeeee” when I cut off his foot.
But wait, I hear a snap and look down to see
A whip wrapped around my leg and a sword above me.
My eyes are shut, this is it I tell myself.

Then suddenly over my head flashes yellow
And the sword disappears
Then the man before me goes snap, crackle, pop
When his skin starts to burn
And melts off in chunks.
Above my head now is my rescuer on my horse
Holding out his hand which I take.
“I leave you alone for no more then a moment”
He says as I mount in front of him.
On his voice is exhaustion but excitement still.
This bitter, bloody, butcher fest is near end.

With a hiss his sword is unsheathed and down on a hear
And a crunch and a goosh as he pulls it back out.
We ride behind out own lines once again
Where he mounts his own horse and gives me a sword.
“You died once on that field,
Don’t let it happen again. You’re too good a fighter
To end up as bird food.”
His words of inspiration still ring in my ear
Like the club against my steel helmet.

So back in I ride into the bloody mess
Of men sloshing through blood and snow to kill.
When it’s all over, what will I hear then,
While sitting quietly or in deep sleep?
I’ll pray to keep these sounds from my head
Like a whore prays to stay out of another man’s bed.
Keep me alive, my ears, be my other eyes
To keep these horrors with me in one more way


last updated August 17, 2007 | © 2007 Fathom Publishing
poetry, prose, and artwork © individual authours | website created by Alana Paul