Nothing says medieval like the sound of a
horn in the distance, filling a valley, bouncing off mountains, and
reminding everyone around that something important, or dreadful, was
about to happen. These horns were made of animal horns or ivory, hence
the name. Often they were sculpted or engraved with intricate carvings.
My first recollection of reading about
such horns was in school, while learning about Charlemagne and his loyal
nephew Roland, who was isolated and attacked at the end of the column,
by the enemy, in the Pyrenees. The mournful sound of Roland's horn,
named Oliphant, called for help but remained unheard by Charlemagne at
the front of the legion. As a result, Roland was killed, despite his
unbreakable sword, Durandal. At the time it was a tragedy. Roland was
Charlemagne's favorite nephew, and history says that he was betrayed by
the knight Ganelon.
Nothing can set the mood in a medieval
novel, like the sound of a horn. Every time I read or write about it, it
gives me goosebumps. Whether it's a call to battle, a village fire, an invasion, a
natural calamity, the horn is often a precursor of danger.
Even now, we use sirens to warn the
population of tsumani, tornadoes, and other dangers. Their sound
imitates the mournful lament of the ancient horn.
In BELOVED CRUSADER, my latest book in
the Curse of the Lost Isle series, the Crusaders, like the armies of
Charlemagne, set out and stop to the sound of the horn. Actually, they
also take the Charlemagne road, that crossed Europe from its northern
point to the famed city of Constantinople. Hope you enjoy the read.
Vijaya Schartz, author
Blasters, Swords, Romance with a Kick
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