A Horde of Friends

Author's notes: Word count = 405
Lines 48,
Before Pictures, formatting and notes.
This is a contest entry for "Game of Thrones" 
Week #3 Prompt 3: Why is friendship so important? Show us in a poem. ~ Poetry 1000 points

There once was a young lass, she the fairest of maiden
The people around her claimed her a beauty in waiting.
In the village, they told her to call if she needed aiding
Oh, yes, all claimed to be her the best of their friends.

One day the alarm bells they rang and on the war drums they banged
The horde was approaching, fair maidens they were reproaching
Her virtue they wanted they proclaimed as they sang while marching
In hopes to escape the aid of her friends, the maiden went asking.

She went to the baker explained they would take her
And begged of him, in his larders he to hide her
But he declined, her request stating shelves were all full
With food for his new lord, the fat king of the horde.

She then applied to her friend the farmer
Begging of him to protect her, in his barn he was to hide her
Repel them she said with the tines of your long forks
But with sorrow, he protested, his rakes in the fields they all rested

To the fisherman, she next pleaded
On his boat, a ride she desperately needed
But he claimed his holds full and if room he then made
from the horde, his sides they’d be bleeding

She went to the good shepherd and prayed if he could have kept her.
"Another time, my dear friend, But a knee I must bend.
I could not interfere on the present occasion, my legs they will break
And these hordes would eat all his sheep if she stayed there."

To the banker, she went as the last of her hopes
In his vault, requested, as there she would never be tested
But with regret, he protested he was unable to help her,
Too many of the village elders, their gold in there rested

So Alone and dejected
The maiden sat on the street corner awaiting her fate
To the feast of the Horde, was her future now projected
But an old crone did come, who bid the maid's tears be abated

And under her huge dirty old dress, the maiden repressed
The horde passed on by, averting their eyes, the pair sat without address
The moral it seems is quite simple to guess
Best one ugly true friend than a dozen who aren't’ fully vested.