My first is in wield, sever bones and marrow.
My second is in blade, forged in cold steel.
My third is in arbalest, and also in arrows.
My fourth is in power, plunged through a shield.
My fifth is in honour, and also in vows
My last will put an end to it all.
What am I?
A dozen Royals gathered round, Entertained by two who clowned. Each King there had servants ten, Though none of them were also men. The lowest servant sometimes might, Defeat the King in a fair fight. A weapon stout, a priceless jewel, The beat of life, a farmer's tool. What is it?
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