Cassa's tale

We left the ships
At the place of the sacrifice
And treaded the trackless woods.
Two days we walked: Two days!
Until the ground fell away
A curved scarp, a broken bowl
Bounded by the line
Of the Giants' way.

A pleasant place!
Well drained soil: Hazel and Alder
Grew in the sun on the Southern slopes
And fresh water springs: fresh springs
Gushed forth from the hill foot
And good clay, for jars and bowls.
Traders walked the line
Of the Giants' way

And to the North
Pitta's folk lived, farmed their land
Ploughed with oxen, raised sheep and goats.
I met old Man Pitta - Old Man Pitta
And handfasted my daughter
To his grandson. My peaceweaver
Said her vows on the line
Of the Giants' way.

It has my name
This valley. My legacy.
And whenever elders gather to speak the law
They will call it Cassa's Hop. Cassa's Hop
Where Cassa's folk tend the earth
And travellers, traders, teachers from the Whitechrist
Will call my name from the line
Of the Giant's way.