Numenorian by Tom Holt

Posted to alt.books.tom-holt by Tom Holt in December 2002:

Went to the pictures; came home humming -

I am the very model of a modern Numenorian;
My language is invented and my mindset is Victorian.
I'm Estel and I'm Aragorn, and Elessar and Strider, too
I've hunted orcs and trolls and wargs, and sometimes a Black Rider, too.
I'm pretty good at fighting and you'll find me where the dangers are;
I'm fearless and invincible, as all the other Rangers are.
My sword is old and busted but I wield it with impunity
And draw it out and flourish it at every opportunity.
I hurl myself against the foe with courage and avidity,
And maybe just a soupcon of inherited stupidity.
From Arnor to Anduin, from Cardolan to Lothlorien,
I am the very model of a modern Numenorian.

I'm very good with herbs and stuff (I'm so New Age and sensitive);
The tales I tell of days of yore work wonders as a sedative.
I got a gal in Rivendell (which sounds a bit Glenn Miller-y)
And when I went to Rohan last, they stuck me in the pillory.
To be the King of Gondor is my duty and I'm bound to it,
And one day it may happen when I finally get round to it.
I'm very wise and learned, I'm your actual intellectual,
And trained from birth in leadership, though strangely ineffectual.
So if you want a sherpa for a toddle through the Hithaeglir,
Or need a human champion who's not a jerk, like Boromir,
Check out the heir of Isildur with any good historian;
He'll tell you I'm the model of a modern Numenorian.

Quote from Who's Afraid of Beowulf?
`Will they be all right?' Hildy asked doubtfully. `They don't seem very practical to me.'
The King nodded. `I should think so,' he said. `Take Angantyr Asmundarson, for instance. To join the muster at Melvich, he marched all night from Brough Head to Burwick - that's right across two msin islands of Orkney - and since there was no boat available he swam over from Burwick to the mainland, in the middle of a storm. Then he ran all the way from Duncansby Head to Melvich, on the morning before the battle, and still fought in the front rank against the stone-rolls of Finnmark. Complaining bitterly about his wet clothes and how he was going to catch his death pneumonia, of course, but that's just his way.' He paused, and contemplated his fingernails for a moment.
`Put like that, I suppose, it rather proves your point. Only a complete idiot would have gone to so much trouble to get involved in a battle.
Come on,' he said briskly, `it's time we were going.'

(Tom Holt, "Who's Afraid of Beowulf?")

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Numenorian by Tom Holt

Quote from Who's Afraid of Beowulf?