Ardan the Hawk was a bandit,
on land, fen, and sea plied his trade.
Never a man proved his equal,
with fist, with gun, or the blade.

Seated in bold Molly's tavern
with his eyes locked hard on her chest
He boasted he be her next lover
and further that he'd be her best!

The sherrif himself stormed the doorway
with guardsmen four right behind
The Hawk, he cried, they were seeking
right at the moment he died

With a wink and a smile the Hawk fired
the pistol held cocked 'neath cloak
The sherrif was dead in the doorway
not a heartbeat after he spoke

With a laugh the Hawk drew his sword now
Four guardsmen frozen in shock
Two died with steel still in scabbard
no match for Arden the Hawk

Smashing dishes and tables to kindling
snarling the swordsmen they clashed
Molly watched in horror so helpless
as heedless her fortunes they smashed

One he took low in the belly,
the second took high in the chest
Boys when it comes to the killing
'tis always the Hawk that is best!

Molly wept as she eyed all the carnage
she asked with a tremble of fear
"Sir, who will pay for the damage?"
The Hawk turned to her with a leer

Relax, he spoke as he grabbed her
its some of my silver you'll earn
For just as no man can me capture,
Nor can a woman me spurn

Hard he rode her that evening
Then she swallowed more than her pride
Again and again did she rouse him
Until he felt that he'd died

That's how the magistrates found him
Bound to the four poster bead
Naked as the day that Hel birthed him
with a damned fool grin on his head

On Monday Molly reopened
One day after Arden hung dead
Paid once by the coins in his keeping
And once by the price on his head

For Odin and Freya; patrons of bad men well hung in all senses of the word, and the women who know how to deal with them

CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! As always, a rollicking, well written read, John T!