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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/6050-0.txt b/6050-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c6f7cd9 --- /dev/null +++ b/6050-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15740 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Roots of the Mountains, by William Morris + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Roots of the Mountains + + +Author: William Morris + + + +Release Date: July 29, 2014 [eBook #6050] +[This file was first posted on October 24, 2002] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROOTS OF THE MOUNTAINS*** + + +Transcribed from the 1896 Longmans, Green, and Co. edition by David +Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + + THE ROOTS OF THE MOUNTAINS + WHEREIN IS TOLD SOMEWHAT OF + THE LIVES OF THE MEN OF BURG- + DALE THEIR FRIENDS THEIR + NEIGHBOURS THEIR FOEMEN AND + THEIR FELLOWS IN ARMS + + + BY WILLIAM MORRIS + + Whiles carried o’er the iron road, + We hurry by some fair abode; + The garden bright amidst the hay, + The yellow wain upon the way, + The dining men, the wind that sweeps + Light locks from off the sun-sweet heaps— + The gable grey, the hoary roof, + Here now—and now so far aloof. + How sorely then we long to stay + And midst its sweetness wear the day, + And ’neath its changing shadows sit, + And feel ourselves a part of it. + Such rest, such stay, I strove to win + With these same leaves that lie herein. + + LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. + LONDON, NEW YORK, AND BOMBAY + MDCCCXCVI + + * * * * * + + _First Edition printed November_, 1889. + + 250 _copies were printed on Large Paper_. + + _Second Edition_, _February_, 1893. + + + + +_CONTENTS_. + + _Page_ + _Chapter I_. _Of Burgstead and its Folk and its 1 + Neighbours_ + _II_. _Of Face-of-god and his Kindred_ 12 + _III_. _They talk of divers matters in the Hall_ 18 + _IV_. _Face-of-god fareth to the Wood again_ 25 + _V_. _Face-of-god falls in with Menfolk on the 34 + Mountain_ + _VI_. _Of Face-of-god and those 39 + Mountain-dwellers_ + _VII_. _Face-of-god talketh with the Friend on the 50 + Mountain_ + _VIII_. _Face-of-god cometh home again to 57 + Burgstead_ + _IX_. _Those Brethren fare to the Yew-wood with 59 + the Bride_ + _X_. _New Tidings in the Dale_ 63 + _XI_. _Men make Oath at Burgstead on the Holy 69 + Boar_ + _XII_. _Stone-face telleth concerning the 74 + Wood-wights_ + _XIII_. _They fare to the hunting of the elk_ 78 + _XIV_. _Concerning Face-of-god and the Mountain_ 82 + _XV_. _Murder amongst the Folk of the 87 + Woodlanders_ + _XVI_. _The Bride speaketh with Face-of-god_ 93 + _XVII_. _The Token cometh from the Mountain_ 97 + _XVIII_. _Face-of-god talketh with the Friend in 105 + Shadowy Vale_ + _XIX_. _The fair Woman telleth Face-of-god of her 109 + Kindred_ + _XX_. _Those two together hold the Ring of the 124 + Earth-god_ + _XXI_. _Face-of-god looketh on the Dusky Men_ 141 + _XXII_. _Face-of-god cometh home to Burgstead_ 151 + _XXIII_. _Talk in the Hall of the House of the Face_ 162 + _XXIV_. _Face-of-god giveth that Token to the 165 + Bride_ + _XXV_. _Of the Gate-thing at Burgstead_ 170 + _XXVI_. _The Ending of the Gate-thing_ 183 + _XXVII_. _Face-of-god leadeth a Band through the 191 + Wood_ + _XXVIII_. _The Men of Burgdale meet the Runaways_ 202 + _XXIX_. _They bring the Runaways to Burgstead_ 216 + _XXX_. _Hall-face goeth toward Rose-dale_ 225 + _XXXI_. _Of the Weapon-show of the Men of Burgdale 231 + and their Neighbours_ + _XXXII_. _The Men of Shadowy Vale come to the Spring 239 + Market at Burgstead_ + _XXXIII_. _The Alderman gives Gifts to them of 251 + Shadowy Vale_ + _XXXIV_. _The Chieftains take counsel in the Hall of 255 + the Face_ + _XXXV_. _Face-of-god talketh with the Sun-beam_ 268 + _XXXVI_. _Folk-might speaketh with the Bride_ 275 + _XXXVII_. _Of the Folk-mote of the Dalesmen_, _the 282 + Shepherd-Folk_, _and the Woodland Carles_: + _the Banner of the Wolf displayed_ + _XXXVIII_. _Of the Great Folk-mote_: _Atonements 287 + given_, _and Men made sackless_ + _XXXIX_. _Of the Great Folk-mote_: _Men take rede of 292 + the War-faring_, _the Fellowship_, _and the + War-leader_. _Folk-might telleth whence + his People came_. _The Folk-mote sundered_ + _XL_. _Of the Hosting in Shadowy Vale_ 301 + _XLI_. _The Host departeth from Shadowy Vale_: 311 + _the first Day’s journey_ + _XLII_. _The Host cometh to the edges of 318 + Silver-dale_ + _XLIII_. _Face-of-god looketh on Silver-dale_: _the 322 + Bowmen’s battle_ + _XLIV_. _Of the Onslaught of the Men of the Steer_, 335 + _the Bridge_, _and the Bull_ + _XLV_. _Of Face-of-god’s Onslaught_ 343 + _XLVI_. _Men meet in the Market of Silver-stead_ 352 + _XLVII_. _The Kindreds win the Mote-house_ 363 + _XLVIII_. _Men sing in the Mote-house_ 367 + _XLIX_. _Dallach fareth to Rose-dale_: _Crow 372 + telleth of his Errand_: _the Kindreds eat + their meat in Silver-dale_ + _L_. _Folk-might seeth the Bride and speaketh 378 + with her_ + _LI_. _The Dead borne to bale_: _the Mote-house 382 + re-hallowed_ + _LII_. _Of the new Beginning of good Days in 384 + Silver-dale_ + _LIII_. _Of the Word which Hall-ward of the Steer 386 + had for Folk-might_ + _LIV_. _Tidings of Dallach_: _a Folk-mote in 391 + Silver-dale_ + _LV_. _Departure from Silver-dale_ 394 + _LVI_. _Talk upon the Wild-wood Way_ 403 + _LVII_. _How the Host came home again_ 404 + _LVIII_. _How the Maiden Ward was held in Burgdale_ 409 + _LIX_. _The Behest of Face-of-god to the Bride 418 + accomplished_: _a Mote-stead appointed for + the three Folks_, _to wit_, _the Men of + Burgdale_, _the Shepherds_, _and the + Children of the Wolf_ + + + + +CHAPTER I. OF BURGSTEAD AND ITS FOLK AND ITS NEIGHBOURS. + + +ONCE upon a time amidst the mountains and hills and falling streams of a +fair land there was a town or thorp in a certain valley. This was +well-nigh encompassed by a wall of sheer cliffs; toward the East and the +great mountains they drew together till they went near to meet, and left +but a narrow path on either side of a stony stream that came rattling +down into the Dale: toward the river at that end the hills lowered +somewhat, though they still ended in sheer rocks; but up from it, and +more especially on the north side, they swelled into great shoulders of +land, then dipped a little, and rose again into the sides of huge fells +clad with pine-woods, and cleft here and there by deep ghylls: thence +again they rose higher and steeper, and ever higher till they drew dark +and naked out of the woods to meet the snow-fields and ice-rivers of the +high mountains. But that was far away from the pass by the little river +into the valley; and the said river was no drain from the snow-fields +white and thick with the grinding of the ice, but clear and bright were +its waters that came from wells amidst the bare rocky heaths. + +The upper end of the valley, where it first began to open out from the +pass, was rugged and broken by rocks and ridges of water-borne stones, +but presently it smoothed itself into mere grassy swellings and knolls, +and at last into a fair and fertile plain swelling up into a green wave, +as it were, against the rock-wall which encompassed it on all sides save +where the river came gushing out of the strait pass at the east end, and +where at the west end it poured itself out of the Dale toward the +lowlands and the plain of the great river. + +Now the valley was some ten miles of our measure from that place of the +rocks and the stone-ridges, to where the faces of the hills drew somewhat +anigh to the river again at the west, and then fell aback along the edge +of the great plain; like as when ye fare a-sailing past two nesses of a +river-mouth, and the main-sea lieth open before you. + +Besides the river afore-mentioned, which men called the Weltering Water, +there were other waters in the Dale. Near the eastern pass, entangled in +the rocky ground was a deep tarn full of cold springs and about two acres +in measure, and therefrom ran a stream which fell into the Weltering +Water amidst the grassy knolls. Black seemed the waters of that tarn +which on one side washed the rocks-wall of the Dale; ugly and aweful it +seemed to men, and none knew what lay beneath its waters save black +mis-shapen trouts that few cared to bring to net or angle: and it was +called the Death-Tarn. + +Other waters yet there were: here and there from the hills on both sides, +but especially from the south side, came trickles of water that ran in +pretty brooks down to the river; and some of these sprang bubbling up +amidst the foot-mounds of the sheer-rocks; some had cleft a rugged and +strait way through them, and came tumbling down into the Dale at diverse +heights from their faces. But on the north side about halfway down the +Dale, one stream somewhat bigger than the others, and dealing with softer +ground, had cleft for itself a wider way; and the folk had laboured this +way wider yet, till they had made them a road running north along the +west side of the stream. Sooth to say, except for the strait pass along +the river at the eastern end, and the wider pass at the western, they had +no other way (save one of which a word anon) out of the Dale but such as +mountain goats and bold cragsmen might take; and even of these but few. + +This midway stream was called the Wildlake, and the way along it +Wildlake’s Way, because it came to them out of the wood, which on that +north side stretched away from nigh to the lip of the valley-wall up to +the pine woods and the high fells on the east and north, and down to the +plain country on the west and south. + +Now when the Weltering Water came out of the rocky tangle near the pass, +it was turned aside by the ground till it swung right up to the feet of +the Southern crags; then it turned and slowly bent round again northward, +and at last fairly doubled back on itself before it turned again to run +westward; so that when, after its second double, it had come to flowing +softly westward under the northern crags, it had cast two thirds of a +girdle round about a space of land a little below the grassy knolls and +tofts aforesaid; and there in that fair space between the folds of the +Weltering Water stood the Thorp whereof the tale hath told. + +The men thereof had widened and deepened the Weltering Water about them, +and had bridged it over to the plain meads; and athwart the throat of the +space left clear by the water they had built them a strong wall though +not very high, with a gate amidst and a tower on either side thereof. +Moreover, on the face of the cliff which was but a stone’s throw from the +gate they had made them stairs and ladders to go up by; and on a knoll +nigh the brow had built a watch-tower of stone strong and great, lest war +should come into the land from over the hills. That tower was ancient, +and therefrom the Thorp had its name and the whole valley also; and it +was called Burgstead in Burgdale. + +So long as the Weltering Water ran straight along by the northern cliffs +after it had left Burgstead, betwixt the water and the cliffs was a wide +flat way fashioned by man’s hand. Thus was the water again a good +defence to the Thorp, for it ran slow and deep there, and there was no +other ground betwixt it and the cliffs save that road, which was easy to +bar across so that no foemen might pass without battle, and this road was +called the Portway. For a long mile the river ran under the northern +cliffs, and then turned into the midst of the Dale, and went its way +westward a broad stream winding in gentle laps and folds here and there +down to the out-gate of the Dale. But the Portway held on still +underneath the rock-wall, till the sheer-rocks grew somewhat broken, and +were cumbered with certain screes, and at last the wayfarer came upon the +break in them, and the ghyll through which ran the Wildlake with +Wildlake’s Way beside it, but the Portway still went on all down the Dale +and away to the Plain-country. + +That road in the ghyll, which was neither wide nor smooth, the wayfarer +into the wood must follow, till it lifted itself out of the ghyll, and +left the Wildlake coming rattling down by many steps from the east; and +now the way went straight north through the woodland, ever mounting +higher, (because the whole set of the land was toward the high fells,) +but not in any cleft or ghyll. The wood itself thereabout was thick, a +blended growth of diverse kinds of trees, but most of oak and ash; light +and air enough came through their boughs to suffer the holly and bramble +and eglantine and other small wood to grow together into thickets, which +no man could pass without hewing a way. But before it is told whereto +Wildlake’s Way led, it must be said that on the east side of the ghyll, +where it first began just over the Portway, the hill’s brow was clear of +wood for a certain space, and there, overlooking all the Dale, was the +Mote-stead of the Dalesmen, marked out by a great ring of stones, amidst +of which was the mound for the Judges and the Altar of the Gods before +it. And this was the holy place of the men of the Dale and of other folk +whereof the tale shall now tell. + +For when Wildlake’s Way had gone some three miles from the Mote-stead, +the trees began to thin, and presently afterwards was a clearing and the +dwellings of men, built of timber as may well be thought. These houses +were neither rich nor great, nor was the folk a mighty folk, because they +were but a few, albeit body by body they were stout carles enough. They +had not affinity with the Dalesmen, and did not wed with them, yet it is +to be deemed that they were somewhat akin to them. To be short, though +they were freemen, yet as regards the Dalesmen were they well-nigh their +servants; for they were but poor in goods, and had to lean upon them +somewhat. No tillage they had among those high trees; and of beasts +nought save some flocks of goats and a few asses. Hunters they were, and +charcoal-burners, and therein the deftest of men, and they could shoot +well in the bow withal: so they trucked their charcoal and their smoked +venison and their peltries with the Dalesmen for wheat and wine and +weapons and weed; and the Dalesmen gave them main good pennyworths, as +men who had abundance wherewith to uphold their kinsmen, though they were +but far-away kin. Stout hands had these Woodlanders and true hearts as +any; but they were few-spoken and to those that needed them not somewhat +surly of speech and grim of visage: brown-skinned they were, but +light-haired; well-eyed, with but little red in their cheeks: their women +were not very fair, for they toiled like the men, or more. They were +thought to be wiser than most men in foreseeing things to come. They +were much given to spells, and songs of wizardry, and were very mindful +of the old story-lays, wherein they were far more wordy than in their +daily speech. Much skill had they in runes, and were exceeding deft in +scoring them on treen bowls, and on staves, and door-posts and roof-beams +and standing-beds and such like things. Many a day when the snow was +drifting over their roofs, and hanging heavy on the tree-boughs, and the +wind was roaring through the trees aloft and rattling about the close +thicket, when the boughs were clattering in the wind, and crashing down +beneath the weight of the gathering freezing snow, when all beasts and +men lay close in their lairs, would they sit long hours about the +house-fire with the knife or the gouge in hand, with the timber twixt +their knees and the whetstone beside them, hearkening to some tale of old +times and the days when their banner was abroad in the world; and they +the while wheedling into growth out of the tough wood knots and blossoms +and leaves and the images of beasts and warriors and women. + +They were called nought save the Woodland-Carles in that day, though time +had been when they had borne a nobler name: and their abode was called +Carlstead. Shortly, for all they had and all they had not, for all they +were and all they were not, they were well-beloved by their friends and +feared by their foes. + +Now when Wildlake’s Way was gotten to Carlstead, there was an end of it +toward the north; though beyond it in a right line the wood was thinner, +because of the hewing of the Carles. But the road itself turned west at +once and went on through the wood, till some four miles further it first +thinned and then ceased altogether, the ground going down-hill all the +way: for this was the lower flank of the first great upheaval toward the +high mountains. But presently, after the wood was ended, the land broke +into swelling downs and winding dales of no great height or depth, with a +few scattered trees about the hillsides, mostly thorns or scrubby oaks, +gnarled and bent and kept down by the western wind: here and there also +were yew-trees, and whiles the hillsides would be grown over with +box-wood, but none very great; and often juniper grew abundantly. This +then was the country of the Shepherds, who were friends both of the +Dalesmen and the Woodlanders. They dwelt not in any fenced town or +thorp, but their homesteads were scattered about as was handy for water +and shelter. Nevertheless they had their own stronghold; for amidmost of +their country, on the highest of a certain down above a bottom where a +willowy stream winded, was a great earthwork: the walls thereof were high +and clean and overlapping at the entering in, and amidst of it was a deep +well of water, so that it was a very defensible place: and thereto would +they drive their flocks and herds when war was in the land, for nought +but a very great host might win it; and this stronghold they called +Greenbury. + +These Shepherd-Folk were strong and tall like the Woodlanders, for they +were partly of the same blood, but burnt they were both ruddy and brown: +they were of more words than the Woodlanders but yet not many-worded. +They knew well all those old story-lays, (and this partly by the +minstrelsy of the Woodlanders,) but they had scant skill in wizardry, and +would send for the Woodlanders, both men and women, to do whatso they +needed therein. They were very hale and long-lived, whereas they dwelt +in clear bright air, and they mostly went light-clad even in the winter, +so strong and merry were they. They wedded with the Woodlanders and the +Dalesmen both; at least certain houses of them did so. They grew no +corn; nought but a few pot-herbs, but had their meal of the Dalesmen; and +in the summer they drave some of their milch-kine into the Dale for the +abundance of grass there; whereas their own hills and bents and winding +valleys were not plenteously watered, except here and there as in the +bottom under Greenbury. No swine they had, and but few horses, but of +sheep very many, and of the best both for their flesh and their wool. +Yet were they nought so deft craftsmen at the loom as were the Dalesmen, +and their women were not very eager at the weaving, though they loathed +not the spindle and rock. Shortly, they were merry folk well-beloved of +the Dalesmen, quick to wrath, though it abode not long with them; not +very curious in their houses and halls, which were but little, and were +decked mostly with the handiwork of the Woodland-Carles their guests; who +when they were abiding with them, would oft stand long hours nose to +beam, scoring and nicking and hammering, answering no word spoken to them +but with aye or no, desiring nought save the endurance of the daylight. +Moreover, this shepherd-folk heeded not gay raiment over-much, but +commonly went clad in white woollen or sheep-brown weed. + +But beyond this shepherd-folk were more downs and more, scantily peopled, +and that after a while by folk with whom they had no kinship or affinity, +and who were at whiles their foes. Yet was there no enduring enmity +between them; and ever after war and battle came peace; and all +blood-wites were duly paid and no long feud followed: nor were the +Dalesmen and the Woodlanders always in these wars, though at whiles they +were. Thus then it fared with these people. + +But now that we have told of the folks with whom the Dalesmen had +kinship, affinity, and friendship, tell we of their chief abode, +Burgstead to wit, and of its fashion. As hath been told, it lay upon the +land made nigh into an isle by the folds of the Weltering Water towards +the uppermost end of the Dale; and it was warded by the deep water, and +by the wall aforesaid with its towers. Now the Dale at its widest, to +wit where Wildlake fell into it, was but nine furlongs over, but at +Burgstead it was far narrower; so that betwixt the wall and the wandering +stream there was but a space of fifty acres, and therein lay Burgstead in +a space of the shape of a sword-pommel: and the houses of the kinships +lay about it, amidst of gardens and orchards, but little ordered into +streets and lanes, save that a way went clean through everything from the +tower-warded gate to the bridge over the Water, which was warded by two +other towers on its hither side. + +As to the houses, they were some bigger, some smaller, as the housemates +needed. Some were old, but not very old, save two only, and some quite +new, but of these there were not many: they were all built fairly of +stone and lime, with much fair and curious carved work of knots and +beasts and men round about the doors; or whiles a wale of such-like work +all along the house-front. For as deft as were the Woodlanders with +knife and gouge on the oaken beams, even so deft were the Dalesmen with +mallet and chisel on the face of the hewn stone; and this was a great +pastime about the Thorp. Within these houses had but a hall and solar, +with shut-beds out from the hall on one side or two, with whatso of +kitchen and buttery and out-bower men deemed handy. Many men dwelt in +each house, either kinsfolk, or such as were joined to the kindred. + +Near to the gate of Burgstead in that street aforesaid and facing east +was the biggest house of the Thorp; it was one of the two abovesaid which +were older than any other. Its door-posts and the lintel of the door +were carved with knots and twining stems fairer than other houses of that +stead; and on the wall beside the door carved over many stones was an +image wrought in the likeness of a man with a wide face, which was +terrible to behold, although it smiled: he bore a bent bow in his hand +with an arrow fitted to its string, and about the head of him was a ring +of rays like the beams of the sun, and at his feet was a dragon, which +had crept, as it were, from amidst of the blossomed knots of the +door-post wherewith the tail of him was yet entwined. And this head with +the ring of rays about it was wrought into the adornment of that house, +both within and without, in many other places, but on never another house +of the Dale; and it was called the House of the Face. Thereof hath the +tale much to tell hereafter, but as now it goeth on to tell of the ways +of life of the Dalesmen. + +In Burgstead was no Mote-hall or Town-house or Church, such as we wot of +in these days; and their market-place was wheresoever any might choose to +pitch a booth: but for the most part this was done in the wide street +betwixt the gate and the bridge. As to a meeting-place, were there any +small matters between man and man, these would the Alderman or one of the +Wardens deal with, sitting in Court with the neighbours on the wide space +just outside the Gate: but if it were to do with greater matters, such as +great manslayings and blood-wites, or the making of war or ending of it, +or the choosing of the Alderman and the Wardens, such matters must be put +off to the Folk-mote, which could but be held in the place aforesaid +where was the Doom-ring and the Altar of the Gods; and at that Folk-mote +both the Shepherd-Folk and the Woodland-Carles foregathered with the +Dalesmen, and duly said their say. There also they held their great +casts and made offerings to the Gods for the Fruitfulness of the Year, +the ingathering of the increase, and in Memory of their Forefathers. +Natheless at Yule-tide also they feasted from house to house to be glad +with the rest of Midwinter, and many a cup drank at those feasts to the +memory of the fathers, and the days when the world was wider to them, and +their banners fared far afield. + +But besides these dwellings of men in the field between the wall and the +water, there were homesteads up and down the Dale whereso men found it +easy and pleasant to dwell: their halls were built of much the same +fashion as those within the Thorp; but many had a high garth-wall cast +about them, so that they might make a stout defence in their own houses +if war came into the Dale. + +As to their work afield; in many places the Dale was fair with growth of +trees, and especially were there long groves of sweet chestnut standing +on the grass, of the fruit whereof the folk had much gain. Also on the +south side nigh to the western end was a wood or two of yew-trees very +great and old, whence they gat them bow-staves, for the Dalesmen also +shot well in the bow. Much wheat and rye they raised in the Dale, and +especially at the nether end thereof. Apples and pears and cherries and +plums they had in plenty; of which trees, some grew about the borders of +the acres, some in the gardens of the Thorp and the homesteads. On the +slopes that had grown from the breaking down here and there of the +Northern cliffs, and which faced the South and the Sun’s burning, were +rows of goodly vines, whereof the folk made them enough and to spare of +strong wine both white and red. + +As to their beasts; swine they had a many, but not many sheep, since +herein they trusted to their trucking with their friends the Shepherds; +they had horses, and yet but a few, for they were stout in going afoot; +and, had they a journey to make with women big with babes, or with +children or outworn elders, they would yoke their oxen to their wains, +and go fair and softly whither they would. But the said oxen and all +their neat were exceeding big and fair, far other than the little beasts +of the Shepherd-Folk; they were either dun of colour, or white with black +horns (and those very great) and black tail-tufts and ear-tips. Asses +they had, and mules for the paths of the mountains to the east; geese and +hens enough, and dogs not a few, great hounds stronger than wolves, +sharp-nosed, long-jawed, dun of colour, shag-haired. + +As to their wares; they were very deft weavers of wool and flax, and made +a shift to dye the thrums in fair colours; since both woad and madder +came to them good cheap by means of the merchants of the plain country, +and of greening weeds was abundance at hand. Good smiths they were in +all the metals: they washed somewhat of gold out of the sands of the +Weltering Water, and copper and tin they fetched from the rocks of the +eastern mountains; but of silver they saw little, and iron they must buy +of the merchants of the plain, who came to them twice in the year, to wit +in the spring and the late autumn just before the snows. Their wares +they bought with wool spun and in the fleece, and fine cloth, and skins +of wine and young neat both steers and heifers, and wrought copper bowls, +and gold and copper by weight, for they had no stamped money. And they +guested these merchants well, for they loved them, because of the tales +they told them of the Plain and its cities, and the manslayings therein, +and the fall of Kings and Dukes, and the uprising of Captains. + +Thus then lived this folk in much plenty and ease of life, though not +delicately nor desiring things out of measure. They wrought with their +hands and wearied themselves; and they rested from their toil and feasted +and were merry: to-morrow was not a burden to them, nor yesterday a thing +which they would fain forget: life shamed them not, nor did death make +them afraid. + +As for the Dale wherein they dwelt, it was indeed most fair and lovely, +and they deemed it the Blessing of the Earth, and they trod its flowery +grass beside its rippled streams amidst its green tree-boughs proudly and +joyfully with goodly bodies and merry hearts. + + + + +CHAPTER II. OF FACE-OF-GOD AND HIS KINDRED. + + +TELLS the tale, that on an evening of late autumn when the weather was +fair, calm, and sunny, there came a man out of the wood hard by the +Mote-stead aforesaid, who sat him down at the roots of the Speech-mound, +casting down before him a roe-buck which he had just slain in the wood. +He was a young man of three and twenty summers; he was so clad that he +had on him a sheep-brown kirtle and leggings of like stuff bound about +with white leather thongs; he bore a short-sword in his girdle and a +little axe withal; the sword with fair wrought gilded hilts and a +dew-shoe of like fashion to its sheath. He had his quiver at his back +and bare in his hand his bow unstrung. He was tall and strong, very fair +of fashion both of limbs and face, white-skinned, but for the sun’s +tanning, and ruddy-cheeked: his beard was little and fine, his hair +yellow and curling, cut somewhat close, but for its length so plenteous, +and so thick, that none could fail to note it. He had no hat nor hood +upon his head, nought but a fillet of golden beads. + +As he sat down he glanced at the dale below him with a well-pleased look, +and then cast his eyes down to the grass at his feet, as though to hold a +little longer all unchanged the image of the fair place he had just seen. +The sun was low in the heavens, and his slant beams fell yellow all up +the dale, gilding the chestnut groves grown dusk and grey with autumn, +and the black masses of the elm-boughs, and gleaming back here and there +from the pools of the Weltering Water. Down in the midmost meadows the +long-horned dun kine were moving slowly as they fed along the edges of +the stream, and a dog was bounding about with exceeding swiftness here +and there among them. At a sharply curved bight of the river the man +could see a little vermilion flame flickering about, and above it a thin +blue veil of smoke hanging in the air, and clinging to the boughs of the +willows anear; about it were a dozen menfolk clear to see, some sitting, +some standing, some walking to and fro, but all in company together: four +of were brown-clad and short-skirted like himself, and from above the +hand of one came a flash of light as the sun smote upon the steel of his +spear. The others were long-skirted and clad gayer, and amongst them +were red and blue and green and white garments, and they were clear to be +seen for women. Just as the young man looked up again, those of them who +were sitting down rose up, and those that were strolling drew nigh, and +they joined hands together, and fell to dancing on the grass, and the dog +and another one with him came up to the dancers and raced about and +betwixt them; and so clear to see were they all and so little, being far +away, that they looked like dainty well-wrought puppets. + +The young man sat smiling at it for a little, and then rose up and +shouldered his venison, and went down into Wildlake’s Way, and presently +was fairly in the Dale and striding along the Portway beside the northern +cliffs, whose greyness was gilded yet by the last rays of the sun, though +in a minute or two it would go under the western rim. He went fast and +cheerily, murmuring to himself snatches of old songs; none overtook him +on the road, but he overtook divers folk going alone or in company toward +Burgstead; swains and old men, mothers and maidens coming from the field +and the acre, or going from house to house; and one or two he met but not +many. All these greeted him kindly, and he them again; but he stayed not +to speak with any, but went as one in haste. + +It was dusk by then he passed under the gate of Burgstead; he went +straight thence to the door of the House of the Face, and entered as one +who is at home, and need go no further, nor abide a bidding. + +The hall he came into straight out of the open air was long and somewhat +narrow and not right high; it was well-nigh dark now within, but since he +knew where to look, he could see by the flicker that leapt up now and +then from the smouldering brands of the hearth amidmost the hall under +the luffer, that there were but three men therein, and belike they were +even they whom he looked to find there, and for their part they looked +for his coming, and knew his step. + +He set down his venison on the floor, and cried out in a cheery voice: +‘Ho, Kettel! Are all men gone without doors to sleep so near the +winter-tide, that the Hall is as dark as a cave? Hither to me! Or art +thou also sleeping?’ + +A voice came from the further side of the hearth: ‘Yea, lord, asleep I +am, and have been, and dreaming; and in my dream I dealt with the +flesh-pots and the cake-board, and thou shalt see my dream come true +presently to thy gain.’ + +Quoth another voice: ‘Kettel hath had out that share of his dream already +belike, if the saw sayeth sooth about cooks. All ye have been away, so +belike he hath done as Rafe’s dog when Rafe ran away from the slain +buck.’ + +He laughed therewith, and Kettel with him, and a third voice joined the +laughter. The young man also laughed and said: ‘Here I bring the venison +which my kinsman desired; but as ye see I have brought it over-late: but +take it, Kettel. When cometh my father from the stithy?’ + +Quoth Kettel: ‘My lord hath been hard at it shaping the Yule-tide sword, +and doth not lightly leave such work, as ye wot, but he will be here +presently, for he has sent to bid us dight for supper straightway.’ + +Said the young man: ‘Where are there lords in the dale, Kettel, or hast +thou made some thyself, that thou must be always throwing them in my +teeth?’ + +‘Son of the Alderman,’ said Kettel, ‘ye call me Kettel, which is no name +of mine, so why should I not call thee lord, which is no dignity of +thine, since it goes well over my tongue from old use and wont? But here +comes my mate of the kettle, and the women and lads. Sit down by the +hearth away from their hurry, and I will fetch thee the hand-water.’ + +The young man sat down, and Kettel took up the venison and went his ways +toward the door at the lower end of the hall; but ere he reached it it +opened, and a noisy crowd entered of men, women, boys, and dogs, some +bearing great wax candles, some bowls and cups and dishes and trenchers, +and some the boards for the meal. + +The young man sat quiet smiling and winking his eyes at the sudden flood +of light let into the dark place; he took in without looking at this or +the other thing the aspect of his Fathers’ House, so long familiar to +him; yet to-night he had a pleasure in it above his wont, and in all the +stir of the household; for the thought of the wood wherein he had +wandered all day yet hung heavy upon him. Came one of the girls and cast +fresh brands on the smouldering fire and stirred it into a blaze, and the +wax candles were set up on the daïs, so that between them and the +mew-quickened fire every corner of the hall was bright. As aforesaid it +was long and narrow, over-arched with stone and not right high, the +windows high up under the springing of the roof-arch and all on the side +toward the street; over against them were the arches of the shut-beds of +the housemates. The walls were bare that evening, but folk were wont to +hang up hallings of woven pictures thereon when feasts and high-days were +toward; and all along the walls were the tenter-hooks for that purpose, +and divers weapons and tools were hanging from them here and there. +About the daïs behind the thwart-table were now stuck for adornment leavy +boughs of oak now just beginning to turn with the first frosts. High up +on the gable wall above the tenter-hooks for the hangings were carven +fair imagery and knots and twining stems; for there in the hewn atone was +set forth that same image with the rayed head that was on the outside +wall, and he was smiting the dragon and slaying him; but here inside the +house all this was stained in fair and lively colours, and the sun-like +rays round the head of the image were of beaten gold. At the lower end +of the hall were two doors going into the butteries, and kitchen, and +other out-bowers; and above these doors was a loft upborne by stone +pillars, which loft was the sleeping chamber of the goodman of the house; +but the outward door was halfway between the said loft and the hearth of +the hall. + +So the young man took the shoes from his feet and then sat watching the +women and lads arraying the boards, till Kettel came again to him with an +old woman bearing the ewer and basin, who washed his feet and poured the +water over his hands, and gave him the towel with fair-broidered ends to +dry them withal. + +Scarce had he made an end of this ere through the outer door came in +three men and a young woman with them; the foremost of these was a man +younger by some two years than the first-comer, but so like him that none +might misdoubt that he was his brother; the next was an old man with a +long white beard, but hale and upright; and lastly came a man of +middle-age, who led the young woman by the hand. He was taller than the +first of the young men, though the other who entered with him outwent him +in height; a stark carle he was, broad across the shoulders, thin in the +flank, long-armed and big-handed; very noble and well-fashioned of +countenance, with a straight nose and grey eyes underneath a broad brow: +his hair grown somewhat scanty was done about with a fillet of golden +beads like the young men his sons. For indeed this was their father, and +the master of the House. + +His name was Iron-face, for he was the deftest of weapon-smiths, and he +was the Alderman of the Dalesmen, and well-beloved of them; his kindred +was deemed the noblest of the Dale, and long had they dwelt in the House +of the Face. But of his sons the youngest, the new-comer, was named +Hall-face, and his brother the elder Face-of-god; which name was of old +use amongst the kindred, and many great men and stout warriors had borne +it aforetime: and this young man, in great love had he been gotten, and +in much hope had he been reared, and therefore had he been named after +the best of the kindred. But his mother, who was hight the Jewel, and +had been a very fair woman, was dead now, and Iron-face lacked a wife. + +Face-of-god was well-beloved of his kindred and of all the Folk of the +Dale, and he had gotten a to-name, and was called Gold-mane because of +the abundance and fairness of his hair. + +As for the young woman that was led in by Iron-face, she was the +betrothed of Face-of-god, and her name was the Bride. She looked with +such eyes of love on him when she saw him in the hall, as though she had +never seen him before but once, nor loved him but since yesterday; though +in truth they had grown up together and had seen each other most days of +the year for many years. She was of the kindred with whom the chiefs and +great men of the Face mostly wedded, which was indeed far away kindred of +them. She was a fair woman and strong: not easily daunted amidst perils +she was hardy and handy and light-foot: she could swim as well as any, +and could shoot well in the bow, and wield sword and spear: yet was she +kind and compassionate, and of great courtesy, and the very dogs and kine +trusted in her and loved her. Her hair was dark red of hue, long and +fine and plenteous, her eyes great and brown, her brow broad and very +fair, her lips fine and red: her cheek not ruddy, yet nowise sallow, but +clear and bright: tall she was and of excellent fashion, but well-knit +and well-measured rather than slender and wavering as the willow-bough. +Her voice was sweet and soft, her words few, but exceeding dear to the +listener. In short, she was a woman born to be the ransom of her Folk. + +Now as to the names which the menfolk of the Face bore, and they an +ancient kindred, a kindred of chieftains, it has been said that in times +past their image of the God of the Earth had over his treen face a mask +of beaten gold fashioned to the shape of the image; and that when the +Alderman of the Folk died, he to wit who served the God and bore on his +arm the gold-ring between the people and the altar, this visor or face of +God was laid over the face of him who had been in a manner his priest, +and therewith he was borne to mound; and the new Alderman and priest had +it in charge to fashion a new visor for the God; and whereas for long +this great kindred had been chieftains of the people, they had been, and +were all so named, that the word Face was ever a part of their names. + + + + +CHAPTER III. THEY TALK OF DIVERS MATTERS IN THE HALL. + + +NOW Face-of-god, who is also called Gold-mane, rose up to meet the +new-comers, and each of them greeted him kindly, and the Bride kissed him +on the cheek, and he her in likewise; and he looked kindly on her, and +took her hand, and went on up the hall to the daïs, following his father +and the old man; as for him, he was of the kindred of the House, and was +foster-father of Iron-face and of his sons both; and his name was +Stone-face: a stark warrior had he been when he was young, and even now +he could do a man’s work in the battlefield, and his understanding was as +good as that of a man in his prime. So went these and four others up on +to the daïs and sat down before the thwart-table looking down the hall, +for the meat was now on the board; and of the others there were some +fifty men and women who were deemed to be of the kindred and sat at the +endlong tables. + +So then the Alderman stood up and made the sign of the Hammer over the +meat, the token of his craft and of his God. Then they fell to with good +hearts, for there was enough and to spare of meat and drink. There was +bread and flesh (though not Gold-mane’s venison), and leeks and roasted +chestnuts of the grove, and red-cheeked apples of the garth, and honey +enough of that year’s gathering, and medlars sharp and mellow: moreover, +good wine of the western bents went up and down the hall in great gilded +copper bowls and in mazers girt and lipped with gold. + +But when they were full of meat, and had drunken somewhat, they fell to +speech, and Iron-face spake aloud to his son, who had but been speaking +softly to the Bride as one playmate to the other: but the Alderman said: +‘Scarce are the wood-deer grown, kinsman, when I must needs eat sheep’s +flesh on a Thursday, though my son has lain abroad in the woods all night +to hunt for me.’ + +And therewith he smiled in the young man’s face; but Gold-mane reddened +and said: ‘So is it, kinsman, I can hit what I can see; but not what is +hidden.’ + +Iron-face laughed and said: ‘Hast thou been to the Woodland-Carles? are +their women fairer than our cousins?’ + +Face-of-god took up the Bride’s hand in his and kissed it and laid it to +his cheek; and then turned to his father and said: ‘Nay, father, I saw +not the Wood-carles, nor went to their abode; and on no day do I lust +after their women. Moreover, I brought home a roebuck of the fattest; +but I was over-late for Kettel, and the flesh was ready for the board by +then I came.’ + +‘Well, son,’ quoth Iron-face, for he was merry, ‘a roebuck is but a +little deer for such big men as are thou and I. But I rede thee take the +Bride along with thee the next time; and she shall seek whilest thou +sleepest, and hit when thou missest.’ + +Then Face-of-god smiled, but he frowned somewhat also, and he said: ‘Well +were that, indeed! But if ye must needs drag a true tale out of me: that +roebuck I shot at the very edge of the wood nigh to the Mote-stead as I +was coming home: harts had I seen in the wood and its lawns, and boars, +and bucks, and loosed not at them: for indeed when I awoke in the morning +in that wood-lawn ye wot of, I wandered up and down with my bow unbent. +So it was that I fared as if I were seeking something, I know not what, +that should fill up something lacking to me, I know not what. Thus I +felt in myself even so long as I was underneath the black boughs, and +there was none beside me and before me, and none to turn aback to: but +when I came out again into the sunshine, and I saw the fair dale, and the +happy abode lying before me, and folk abroad in the meads merry in the +eventide; then was I full fain of it, and loathed the wood as an empty +thing that had nought to give me; and lo you! all that I had been longing +for in the wood, was it not in this House and ready to my hand?—and that +is good meseemeth.’ + +Therewith he drank of the cup which the Bride put into his hand after she +had kissed the rim, but when he had set it down again he spake once more: + +‘And yet now I am sitting honoured and well-beloved in the House of my +Fathers, with the holy hearth sparkling and gleaming down there before +me; and she that shall bear my children sitting soft and kind by my side, +and the bold lads I shall one day lead in battle drinking out of my very +cup: now it seems to me that amidst all this, the dark cold wood, wherein +abide but the beasts and the Foes of the Gods, is bidding me to it and +drawing me thither. Narrow is the Dale and the World is wide; I would it +were dawn and daylight, that I might be afoot again.’ + +And he half rose up from his place. But his father bent his brow on him +and said: ‘Kinsman, thou hast a long tongue for a half-trained whelp: nor +see I whitherward thy mind is wandering, but if it be on the road of a +lad’s desire to go further and fare worse. Hearken then, I will offer +thee somewhat! Soon shall the West-country merchants be here with their +winter truck. How sayest thou? hast thou a mind to fare back with them, +and look on the Plain and its Cities, and take and give with the +strangers? To whom indeed thou shalt be nothing save a purse with a few +lumps of gold in it, or maybe a spear in the stranger’s band on the +stricken field, or a bow on the wall of an alien city. This is a craft +which thou mayst well learn, since thou shalt be a chieftain; a craft +good to learn, however grievous it be in the learning. And I myself have +been there; for in my youth I desired sore to look on the world beyond +the mountains; so I went, and I filled my belly with the fruit of my own +desires, and a bitter meat was that; but now that it has passed through +me, and I yet alive, belike I am more of a grown man for having endured +its gripe. Even so may it well be with thee, son; so go if thou wilt; +and thou shalt go with my blessing, and with gold and wares and wain and +spearmen.’ + +‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘I thank thee, for it is well offered; but I +will not go, for I have no lust for the Plain and its Cities; I love the +Dale well, and all that is round about it; therein will I live and die.’ + +Therewith he fell a-musing; and the Bride looked at him anxiously, but +spake not. Sooth to say her heart was sinking, as though she foreboded +some new thing, which should thrust itself into their merry life. + +But the old man Stone-face took up the word and said: + +‘Son Gold-mane, it behoveth me to speak, since belike I know the +wild-wood better than most, and have done for these three-score and ten +years; to my cost. Now I perceive that thou longest for the wood and the +innermost of it; and wot ye what? This longing will at whiles entangle +the sons of our chieftains, though this Alderman that now is hath been +free therefrom, which is well for him. For, time was this longing came +over me, and I went whither it led me: overlong it were to tell of all +that befell me because of it, and how my heart bled thereby. So sorry +were the tidings that came of it, that now meseemeth my heart should be +of stone and not my face, had it not been for the love wherewith I have +loved the sons of the kindred. Therefore, son, it were not ill if ye +went west away with the merchants this winter, and learned the dealings +of the cities, and brought us back tales thereof.’ + +But Gold-mane cried out somewhat angrily, ‘I tell thee, foster-father, +that I have no mind for the cities and their men and their fools and +their whores and their runagates. But as for the wood and its wonders, I +have done with it, save for hunting there along with others of the Folk. +So let thy mind be at ease; and for the rest, I will do what the Alderman +commandeth, and whatso my father craveth of me.’ + +‘And that is well, son,’ said Stone-face, ‘if what ye say come to pass, +as sore I misdoubt me it will not. But well it were, well it were! For +such things are in the wood, yea and before ye come to its innermost, as +may well try the stoutest heart. Therein are Kobbolds, and Wights that +love not men, things unto whom the grief of men is as the sound of the +fiddle-bow unto us. And there abide the ghosts of those that may not +rest; and there wander the dwarfs and the mountain-dwellers, the dealers +in marvels, the givers of gifts that destroy Houses; the forgers of the +curse that clingeth and the murder that flitteth to and fro. There +moreover are the lairs of Wights in the shapes of women, that draw a +young man’s heart out of his body, and fill up the empty place with +desire never to be satisfied, that they may mock him therewith and waste +his manhood and destroy him. Nor say I much of the strong-thieves that +dwell there, since thou art a valiant sword; or of them who have been +made Wolves of the Holy Places; or of the Murder-Carles, the remnants and +off-scourings of wicked and wretched Folks—men who think as much of the +life of a man as of the life of a fly. Yet happiest is the man whom they +shall tear in pieces, than he who shall live burdened by the curse of the +Foes of the Gods.’ + +The housemaster looked on his son as the old carle spake, and a cloud +gathered on his face a while; and when Stone-face had made an end he +spake: + +‘This is long and evil talk for the end of a merry day, O fosterer! Wilt +thou not drink a draught, O Redesman, and then stand up and set thy +fiddle-bow a-dancing, and cause it draw some fair words after it? For my +cousin’s face hath grown sadder than a young maid’s should be, and my +son’s eyes gleam with thoughts that are far away from us and abroad in +the wild-wood seeking marvels.’ + +Then arose a man of middle-age from the top of the endlong bench on the +east side of the hall: a man tall, thin and scant-haired, with a nose +like an eagle’s neb: he reached out his hand for the bowl, and when they +had given to him he handled it, and raised it aloft and cried: + +‘Here I drink a double health to Face-of-god and the Bride, and the love +that lieth between them, and the love betwixt them twain and us.’ + +He drank therewith, and the wine went up and down the hall, and all men +drank, both carles and queens, with shouting and great joy. Then +Redesman put down the cup (for it had come into his hands again), and +reached his hand to the wall behind him, and took down his fiddle hanging +there in its case, and drew it out and fell to tuning it, while the hall +grew silent to hearken: then he handled the bow and laid it on the +strings till they wailed and chuckled sweetly, and when the song was well +awake and stirring briskly, then he lifted up his voice and sang: + + _The Minstrel saith_: + + ‘O why on this morning, ye maids, are ye tripping + Aloof from the meadows yet fresh with the dew, + Where under the west wind the river is lipping + The fragrance of mint, the white blooms and the blue? + + For rough is the Portway where panting ye wander; + On your feet and your gown-hems the dust lieth dun; + Come trip through the grass and the meadow-sweet yonder, + And forget neath the willows the sword of the sun. + + _The Maidens answer_: + + Though fair are the moon-daisies down by the river, + And soft is the grass and the white clover sweet; + Though twixt us and the rock-wall the hot glare doth quiver, + And the dust of the wheel-way is dun on our feet; + + Yet here on the way shall we walk on this morning + Though the sun burneth here, and sweet, cool is the mead; + For here when in old days the Burg gave its warning, + Stood stark under weapons the doughty of deed. + + Here came on the aliens their proud words a-crying, + And here on our threshold they stumbled and fell; + Here silent at even the steel-clad were lying, + And here were our mothers the story to tell. + + Here then on the morn of the eve of the wedding + We pray to the Mighty that we too may bear + Such war-walls for warding of orchard and steading, + That the new days be merry as old days were dear.’ + +Therewith he made an end, and shouts and glad cries arose all about the +hall; and an old man arose and cried: ‘A cup to the memory of the Mighty +of the Day of the Warding of the Ways.’ For you must know this song told +of a custom of the Folk, held in memory of a time of bygone battle, +wherein they had overthrown a great host of aliens on the Portway betwixt +the river and the cliffs, two furlongs from the gate of Burgstead. So +now two weeks before Midsummer those maidens who were presently to be +wedded went early in the morning to that place clad in very fair raiment, +swords girt to their sides and spears in their hands, and abode there on +the highway from morn till even as though they were a guard to it. And +they made merry there, singing songs and telling tales of times past: and +at the sunsetting their grooms came to fetch them away to the Feast of +the Eve of the Wedding. + +While the song was a-singing Face-of-god took the Bride’s hand in his and +caressed it, and was soft and blithe with her; and she reddened and +trembled for pleasure, and called to mind wedding feasts that had been, +and fair brides that she had seen thereat, and she forgot her fears and +her heart was at peace again. + +And Iron-face looked well-pleased on the two from time to time, and +smiled, but forbore words to them. + +But up and down the hall men talked with one another about things long +ago betid: for their hearts were high and they desired deeds; but in that +fair Dale so happy were the years from day to day that there was but +little to tell of. So deepened the night and waned, and Gold-mane and +the Bride still talked sweetly together, and at whiles kindly to the +others; and by seeming he had clean forgotten the wood and its wonders. + +Then at last the Alderman called for the cup of good-night, and men drank +thereof and went their ways to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. FACE-OF-GOD FARETH TO THE WOOD AGAIN. + + +WHEN it was the earliest morning and dawn was but just beginning, +Face-of-god awoke and rose up from his bed, and came forth into the hall +naked in his shirt, and stood by the hearth, wherein the piled-up embers +were yet red, and looked about and could see nothing stirring in the +dimness: then he fetched water and washed the night-tide off him, and +clad himself in haste, and was even as he was yesterday, save that he +left his bow and quiver in their place and took instead a short +casting-spear; moreover he took a leathern scrip and went therewith to +the buttery, and set therein bread and flesh and a little gilded beaker; +and all this he did with but little noise; for he would not be +questioned, lest he should have to answer himself as well as others. + +Thus he went quietly out of doors, for the door was but latched, since no +bolts or bars or locks were used in Burgstead, and through the town-gate, +which stood open, save when rumours of war were about. He turned his +face straight towards Wildlake’s Way, walking briskly, but at whiles +looking back over his shoulder toward the East to note what way was made +by the dawning, and how the sky lightened above the mountain passes. + +By then he was come to the place where the Maiden Ward was held in the +summer the dawn was so far forward that all things had their due colours, +and were clear to see in the shadowless day. It was a bright morning, +with an easterly air stirring that drave away the haze and dried the +meadows, which had otherwise been rimy; for it was cold. Gold-mane +lingered on the place a little, and his eyes fell on the road, as dusty +yet as in Redesman’s song; for the autumn had been very dry, and the +strip of green that edged the outside of the way was worn and dusty also. +On the edge of it, half in the dusty road, half on the worn grass, was a +long twine of briony red-berried and black-leaved; and right in the midst +of the road were two twigs of great-leaved sturdy pollard oak, as though +they had been thrown aside there yesterday by women or children +a-sporting; and the deep white dust yet held the marks of feet, some +bare, some shod, crossing each other here and there. Face-of-god smiled +as he passed on, as a man with a happy thought; for his mind showed him a +picture of the Bride as she would be leading the Maiden Ward next summer, +and singing first among the singers, and he saw her as clearly as he had +often seen her verily, and before him was the fashion of her hands and +all her body, and the little mark on her right wrist, and the place where +her arm whitened, because the sleeve guarded it against the sun, which +had long been pleasant unto him, and the little hollow in her chin, and +the lock of red-brown hair waving in the wind above her brow, and shining +in the sun as brightly as the Alderman’s cunningest work of golden wire. +Soft and sweet seemed that picture, till he almost seemed to hear her +sweet voice calling to him, and desire of her so took hold of the youth, +that it stirred him up to go swiftlier as he strode on, the day +brightening behind him. + +Now was it nigh sunrise, and he began to meet folk on the way, though not +many; since for most their way lay afield, and not towards the Burg. The +first was a Woodlander, tall and gaunt, striding beside his ass, whose +panniers were laden with charcoal. The carle’s daughter, a little maiden +of seven winters, riding on the ass’s back betwixt the panniers, and +prattling to herself in the cold morning; for she was pleased with the +clear light in the east, and the smooth wide turf of the meadows, as one +who had not often been far from the shadow of the heavy trees of the +wood, and their dark wall round about the clearing where they dwelt. +Face-of-god gave the twain the sele of the day in merry fashion as he +passed them by, and the sober dark-faced man nodded to him but spake no +word, and the child stayed her prattle to watch him as he went by. + +Then came the sound of the rattle of wheels, and, as he doubled an angle +of the rock-wall, he came upon a wain drawn by four dun kine, wherein lay +a young woman all muffled up against the cold with furs and cloths; +beside the yoke-beasts went her man, a well-knit trim-faced Dalesman clad +bravely in holiday raiment, girt with a goodly sword, bearing a bright +steel helm on his head, in his hand a long spear with a gay red and white +shaft done about with copper bands. He looked merry and proud of his +wain-load, and the woman was smiling kindly on him from out of her +scarlet and fur; but now she turned a weary happy face on Gold-mane, for +they knew him, as did all men of the Dale. + +So he stopped when they met, for the goodman had already stayed his slow +beasts, and the goodwife had risen a little on her cushions to greet him, +yet slowly and but a little, for she was great with child, and not far +from her time. That knew Gold-mane well, and what was toward, and why +the goodman wore his fine clothes, and why the wain was decked with +oak-boughs and the yoke-beasts with their best gilded bells and +copper-adorned harness. For it was a custom with many of the kindreds +that the goodwife should fare to her father’s house to lie in with her +first babe, and the day of her coming home was made a great feast in the +house. So then Face-of-god cried out: ‘Hail to thee, O Warcliff! Shrewd +is the wind this morning, and thou dost well to heed it carefully, this +thine orchard, this thy garden, this thy fair apple-tree! To a good hall +thou wendest, and the Wine of Increase shall be sweet there this even.’ + +Then smiled Warcliff all across his face, and the goodwife hung her head +and reddened. Said the goodman: ‘Wilt thou not be with us, son of the +Alderman, as surely thy father shall be?’ + +‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘though I were fain of it: my own matters carry +me away.’ + +‘What matters?’ said Warcliff; ‘perchance thou art for the cities this +autumn?’ + +Face-of-god answered somewhat stiffly: ‘Nay, I am not;’ and then more +kindly, and smiling, ‘All roads lead not down to the Plain, friend.’ + +‘What road then farest thou away from us?’ said the goodwife. + +‘The way of my will,’ he answered. + +‘And what way is that?’ said she; ‘take heed, lest I get a longing to +know. For then must thou needs tell me, or deal with the carle there +beside thee.’ + +‘Nay, goodwife,’ said Face-of-god, ‘let not that longing take thee; for +on that matter I am even as wise as thou. Now good speed to thee and to +the new-comer!’ + +Therewith he went close up to the wain, and reached out his hand to her, +and she gave him hers and he kissed it, and so went his ways smiling +kindly on them. Then the carle cried to his kine, and they bent down +their heads to the yoke; and presently, as he walked on, he heard the +rumble of the wain mingling with the tinkling of their bells, which in a +little while became measured and musical, and sounded above the creaking +of the axles and the rattle of the gear and the roll of the great wheels +over the road: and so it grew thinner and thinner till it all died away +behind him. + +He was now come to where the river turned away from the sheer rock-wall, +which was not so high there as in most other places, as there had been in +old time long screes from the cliff, which had now grown together, with +the waxing of herbs and the washing down of the earth on to them, and +made a steady slope or low hill going down riverward. Over this the road +lifted itself above the level of the meadows, keeping a little way from +the cliffs, while on the other side its bank was somewhat broken and +steep here and there. As Face-of-god came up to one of these broken +places, the sun rose over the eastern pass, and the meadows grew golden +with its long beams. He lingered, and looked back under his hand, and as +he did so heard the voices and laughter of women coming up from the slope +below him, and presently a young woman came struggling up the broken bank +with hand and knee, and cast herself down on the roadside turf laughing +and panting. She was a long-limbed light-made woman, dark-faced and +black-haired: amidst her laughter she looked up and saw Gold-mane, who +had stopped at once when he saw her; she held out her hands to him, and +said lightly, though her face flushed withal: + +‘Come hither, thou, and help the others to climb the bank; for they are +beaten in the race, and now must they do after my will; that was the +forfeit.’ + +He went up to her, and took her hands and kissed them, as was the custom +of the Dale, and said: + +‘Hail to thee, Long-coat! who be they, and whither away this morning +early?’ + +She looked hard at him, and fondly belike, as she answered slowly: ‘They +be the two maidens of my father’s house, whom thou knowest; and our +errand, all three of us, is to Burgstead, the Feast of the Wine of +Increase which shall be drunk this even.’ + +As she spake came another woman half up the bank, to whom went +Face-of-god, and, taking her hands, drew her up while she laughed merrily +in his face: he saluted her as he had Long-coat, and then with a laugh +turned about to wait for the third; who came indeed, but after a little +while, for she had abided, hearing their voices. Her also Gold-mane drew +up, and kissed her hands, and she lay on the grass by Long-coat, but the +second maiden stood up beside the young man. She was white-skinned and +golden-haired, a very fair damsel, whereas the last-comer was but comely, +as were well-nigh all the women of the Dale. + +Said Face-of-god, looking on the three: ‘How comes it, maidens, that ye +are but in your kirtles this sharp autumn morning? or where have ye left +your gowns or your cloaks?’ + +For indeed they were clad but in close-fitting blue kirtles of fine wool, +embroidered about the hems with gold and coloured threads. + +The last-comer laughed and said: ‘What ails thee, Gold-mane, to be so +careful of us, as if thou wert our mother or our nurse? Yet if thou must +needs know, there hang our gowns on the thorn-bush down yonder; for we +have been running a match and a forfeit; to wit, that she who was last on +the highway should go down again and bring them up all three; and now +that is my day’s work: but since thou art here, Alderman’s son, thou +shalt go down instead of me and fetch them up.’ + +But he laughed merrily and outright, and said: ‘That will I not, for +there be but twenty-four hours in the day, and what between eating and +drinking and talking to fair maidens, I have enough to do in every one of +them. Wasteful are ye women, and simple is your forfeit. Now will I, +who am the Alderman’s son, give forth a doom, and will ordain that one of +you fetch up the gowns yourselves, and that Long-coat be the one; for she +is the fleetest-footed and ablest thereto. Will ye take my doom? for +later on I shall not be wiser.’ + +‘Yea,’ said the fair woman, ‘not because thou art the Alderman’s son, but +because thou art the fairest man of the Dale, and mayst bid us poor souls +what thou wilt.’ + +Face-of-god reddened at her words, and the speaker and the last-comer +laughed; but Long-coat held her peace: she cast one very sober look on +him, and then ran lightly down the bent; he drew near the edge of it, and +watched her going; for her light-foot slimness was fair to look on: and +he noted that when she was nigh the thorn-bush whereon hung the +bright-broidered gowns, and deemed belike that she was not seen, she +kissed both her hands where he had kissed them erst. + +Thereat he drew aback and turned away shyly, scarce looking at the other +twain, who smiled on him with somewhat jeering looks; but he bade them +farewell and departed speedily; and if they spoke, it was but softly, for +he heard their voices no more. + +He went on under the sunlight which was now gilding the outstanding +stones of the cliffs, and still his mind was set upon the Bride; and his +meeting with the mother of the yet unborn baby, and with the three women +with their freshness and fairness, did somehow turn his thought the more +upon her, since she was the woman who was to be his amongst all women, +for she was far fairer than any one of them; and through all manner of +life and through all kinds of deeds would he be with her, and know more +of her fairness and kindness than any other could: and him-seemed he +could see pictures of her and of him amidst all these deeds and ways. + +Now he went very swiftly; for he was eager, though he knew not for what, +and he thought but little of the things on which his eyes fell. He met +none else on the road till he was come to Wildlake’s Way, though he saw +folk enough down in the meadows; he was soon amidst the first of the +trees, and without making any stay set his face east and somewhat north, +that is, toward the slopes that led to the great mountains. He said to +himself aloud, as he wended the wood: ‘Strange! yestereven I thought much +of the wood, and I set my mind on not going thither, and this morning I +thought nothing of it, and here am I amidst its trees, and wending +towards its innermost.’ + +His way was easy at first, because the wood for a little space was all of +beech, so that there was no undergrowth, and he went lightly betwixt the +tall grey and smooth boles; albeit his heart was nought so gay as it was +in the dale amidst the sunshine. After a while the beech-wood grew +thinner, and at last gave out altogether, and he came into a space of +rough broken ground with nought but a few scrubby oaks and thorn-bushes +growing thereon here and there. The sun was high in the heavens now, and +shone brightly down on the waste, though there were a few white clouds +high up above him. The rabbits scuttled out of the grass before him; +here and there he turned aside from a stone on which lay coiled an adder +sunning itself; now and again both hart and hind bounded away from before +him, or a sounder of wild swine ran grunting away toward closer covert. +But nought did he see but the common sights and sounds of the woodland; +nor did he look for aught else, for he knew this part of the woodland +indifferent well. + +He held on over this treeless waste for an hour or more, when the ground +began to be less rugged, and he came upon trees again, but thinly +scattered, oak and ash and hornbeam not right great, with thickets of +holly and blackthorn between them. The set of the ground was still +steadily up to the east and north-east, and he followed it as one who +wendeth an assured way. At last before him seemed to rise a wall of +trees and thicket; but when he drew near to it, lo! an opening in a +certain place, and a little path as if men were wont to thread the tangle +of the wood thereby; though hitherto he had noted no slot of men, nor any +sign of them, since he had plunged into the deep of the beech-wood. He +took the path as one who needs must, and went his ways as it led. In +sooth it was well-nigh blind, but he was a deft woodsman, and by means of +it skirted many a close thicket that had otherwise stayed him. So on he +went, and though the boughs were close enough overhead, and the sun came +through but in flecks, he judged that it was growing towards noon, and he +wotted well that he was growing aweary. For he had been long afoot, and +the more part of the time on a rough way, or breasting a slope which was +at whiles steep enough. + +At last the track led him skirting about an exceeding close thicket into +a small clearing, through which ran a little woodland rill amidst rushes +and dead leaves: there was a low mound near the eastern side of this +wood-lawn, as though there had been once a dwelling of man there, but no +other sign or slot of man was there. + +So Face-of-god made stay in that place, casting himself down beside the +rill to rest him and eat and drink somewhat. Whatever thoughts had been +with him through the wood (and they been many) concerning his House and +his name, and his father, and the journey he might make to the cities of +the Westland, and what was to befall him when he was wedded, and what war +or trouble should be on his hands—all this was now mingled together and +confused by this rest amidst his weariness. He laid down his scrip, and +drew his meat from it and ate what he would, and dipping his gilded +beaker into the brook, drank water smacking of the damp musty savour of +the woodland; and then his head sank back on a little mound in the short +turf, and he fell asleep at once. A long dream he had in short space; +and therein were blent his thoughts of the morning with the deeds of +yesterday; and other matters long forgotten in his waking hours came back +to his slumber in unordered confusion: all which made up for him pictures +clear, but of little meaning, save that, as oft befalls in dreams, +whatever he was a-doing he felt himself belated. + +When he awoke, smiling at something strange in his gone-by dream, he +looked up to the heavens, thinking to see signs of the even at hand, for +he seemed to have been dreaming so long. The sky was thinly overcast by +now, but by his wonted woodcraft he knew the whereabouts of the sun, and +that it was scant an hour after noon. He sat there till he was wholly +awake, and then drank once more of the woodland water; and he said to +himself, but out loud, for he was fain of the sound of a man’s voice, +though it were but his own: + +‘What is mine errand hither? Whither wend I? What shall I have done +to-morrow that I have hitherto left undone? Or what manner of man shall +I be then other than I am now?’ + +Yet though he said the words he failed to think the thought, or it left +him in a moment of time, and he thought but of the Bride and her +kindness. Yet that abode with him but a moment, and again he saw himself +and those two women on the highway edge, and Long-coat lingering on the +slope below, kissing his kisses on her hands; and he was sorry that she +desired him over-much, for she was a fair woman and a friendly. But all +that also flowed from him at once, and he had no thought in him but that +he also desired something that he lacked: and this was a burden to him, +and he rose up frowning, and said to himself, ‘Am I become a mere sport +of dreams, whether I sleep or wake? I will go backward—or forward, but +will think no more.’ + +Then he ordered his gear again, and took the path onward and upward +toward the Great Mountains; and the track was even fainter than before +for a while, so that he had to seek his way diligently. + + + + +CHAPTER V. FACE-OF-GOD FALLS IN WITH MENFOLK ON THE MOUNTAIN. + + +NOW he plodded on steadily, and for a long time the forest changed but +little, and of wild things he saw only a few of those that love the +closest covert. The ground still went up and up, though at whiles were +hollows, and steeper bents out of them again, and the half-blind path or +slot still led past the close thickets and fallen trees, and he made way +without let or hindrance. At last once more the wood began to thin, and +the trees themselves to be smaller and gnarled and ill-grown: therewithal +the day was waning, and the sky was quite clear again as the afternoon +grew into a fair autumn evening. + +Now the trees failed altogether, and the slope grown steeper was covered +with heather and ling; and looking up, he saw before him quite near by +seeming in the clear even (though indeed they were yet far away) the +snowy peaks flushed with the sinking sun against the frosty dark-grey +eastern sky; and below them the dark rock-mountains, and below these +again, and nigh to him indeed, the fells covered with pine-woods and +looking like a wall to the heaths he trod. + +He stayed a little while and turned his head to look at the way whereby +he had come; but that way a swell of the oak-forest hid everything but +the wood itself, making a wall behind him as the pine-wood made a wall +before. There came across him then a sharp memory of the boding words +which Stone-face had spoken last night, and he felt as if he were now +indeed within the trap. But presently he laughed and said: ‘I am a fool: +this comes of being alone in the dark wood and the dismal waste, after +the merry faces of the Dale had swept away my foolish musings of +yesterday and the day before. Lo! here I stand, a man of the Face, sword +and axe by my side; if death come, it can but come once; and if I fear +not death, what shall make me afraid? The Gods hate me not, and will not +hurt me; and they are not ugly, but beauteous.’ + +Therewith he strode on again, and soon came to a place where the ground +sank into a shallow valley and the ling gave place to grass for a while, +and there were tall old pines scattered about, and betwixt them grey +rocks; this he passed through, climbing a steep bent out of it, and the +pines were all about him now, though growing wide apart, till at last he +came to where they thickened into a wood, not very close, wherethrough he +went merrily, singing to himself and swinging his spear. He was soon +through this wood, and came on to a wide well-grassed wood-lawn, hedged +by the wood aforesaid on three sides, but sloping up slowly toward the +black wall of the thicker pine-wood on the fourth side, and about half a +furlong overthwart and endlong. The sun had set while he was in the last +wood, but it was still broad daylight on the wood-lawn, and as he stood +there he was ware of a house under the pine-wood on the other side, built +long and low, much like the houses of the Woodland-Carles, but rougher +fashioned and of unhewn trees. He gazed on it, and said aloud to himself +as his wont was: + +‘Marvellous! here is a dwelling of man, scarce a day’s journey from +Burgstead; yet have I never heard tell of it: may happen some of the +Woodland-Carles have built it, and are on some errand of hunting peltries +up in the mountains, or maybe are seeking copper and tin among the rocks. +Well, at least let us go see what manner of men dwell there, and if they +are minded for a guest to-night; for fain were I of a bed beneath a roof, +and of a board with strong meat and drink on it.’ + +Therewith he set forward, not heeding much that the wood he had passed +through was hard on his left hand; but he had gone but twenty paces when +he saw a red thing at the edge of the wood, and then a glitter, and a +spear came whistling forth, and smote his own spear so hard close to the +steel that it flew out of his hand; then came a great shout, and a man +clad in a scarlet kirtle ran forth on him. Face-of-god had his axe in +his hand in a twinkling, and ran at once to meet his foe; but the man had +the hill on his side as he rushed on with a short-sword in his hand. Axe +and sword clashed together for a moment of time, and then both the men +rolled over on the grass together, and Face-of-god as he fell deemed that +he heard the shrill cry of a woman. Now Face-of-god found that he was +the nethermost, for if he was strong, yet was his foe stronger; the axe +had flown out of his hand also, while the strange man still kept a hold +of his short-sword; and presently, though he still struggled all he +could, he saw the man draw back his hand to smite with the said sword; +and at that nick of time the foeman’s knee was on his breast, his left +hand was doubled back behind him, and his right wrist was gripped hard in +the stranger’s left hand. Even therewith his ears, sharpened by the +coming death, heard the sound of footsteps and fluttering raiment drawing +near; something dark came between him and the sky; there was the sound of +a great stroke, and the big man loosened his grip and fell off him to one +side. + +Face-of-god leapt up and ran to his axe and got hold of it; but turning +round found himself face to face with a tall woman holding in her hand a +stout staff like the limb of a tree. She was calm and smiling, though +forsooth it was she who had stricken the stroke and stayed the sword from +his throat. His hand and axe dropped down to his side when he saw what +it was that faced him, and that the woman was young and fair; so he spake +to her and said: + +‘What aileth, maiden? is this man thy foe? doth he oppress thee? shall I +slay him?’ + +She laughed and said: ‘Thou art open-handed in thy proffers: he might +have asked the like concerning thee but a minute ago.’ + +‘Yea, yea,’ said Gold-mane, laughing also, ‘but he asked it not of thee.’ + +‘That is sooth,’ she said, ‘but since thou hast asked me, I will tell +thee that if thou slay him it will be my harm as well as his; and in my +country a man that taketh a gift is not wont to break the giver’s head +with it straightway. The man is my brother, O stranger, and presently, +if thou wilt, thou mayst be eating at the same board with him. Or if +thou wilt, thou mayst go thy ways unhurt into the wood. But I had liefer +of the twain that thou wert in our house to-night; for thou hast a wrong +against us.’ + +Her voice was sweet and clear, and she spake the last words kindly, and +drew somewhat nigher to Gold-mane. Therewithal the smitten man sat up, +and put his hand to his head, and quoth he: + +‘Angry is my sister! good it is to wear the helm abroad when she shaketh +the nut-trees.’ + +‘Nay,’ said she, ‘it is thy luck that thou wert bare-headed, else had I +been forced to smite thee on the face. Thou churl, since when hath it +been our wont to thrust knives into a guest, who is come of great kin, a +man of gentle heart and fair face? Come hither and handsel him self-doom +for thy fool’s onset!’ + +The man rose to his feet and said: ‘Well, sister, least said, soonest +mended. A clout on the head is worse than a woman’s chiding; but since +ye have given me one, ye may forbear the other.’ + +Therewith he drew near to them. He was a very big-made man, most +stalwarth, with dark red hair and a thin pointed beard; his nose was +straight and fine, his eyes grey and well-opened, but somewhat fierce +withal. Yet was he in nowise evil-looking; he seemed some thirty summers +old. He was clad in a short scarlet kirtle, a goodly garment, with a +hood of like web pulled off his head on to his shoulders: he bore a great +gold ring on his left arm, and a collar of gold came down on to his +breast from under his hood. + +As for the woman, she was clad in a long white linen smock, and over it a +short gown of dark blue woollen, and she had skin shoes on her feet. + +Now the man came up to Face-of-god, and took his hand and said: ‘I deemed +thee a foe, and I may not have over-many foes alive: but it seems that +thou art to be a friend, and that is well and better; so herewith I +handsel thee self-doom in the matter of the onslaught.’ + +Then Face-of-god laughed and said: ‘The doom is soon given forth; against +the tumble on the grass I set the clout on the head; there is nought left +over to pay to any man’s son.’ + +Said the scarlet-clad man: ‘Belike by thine eyes thou art a true man, and +wilt not bewray me. Now is there no foeman here, but rather maybe a +friend both now and in time to come.’ Therewith he cast his arms about +Face-of-god and kissed him. But Face-of-god turned about to the woman +and said: ‘Is the peace wholly made?’ + +She shook her head and said soberly: ‘Nay, thou art too fair for a woman +to kiss.’ + +He flushed red, as his wont was when a woman praised him; yet was his +heart full of pleasure and well-liking. But she laid her hand on his +shoulder and said: ‘Now is it for thee to choose betwixt the wild-wood +and the hall, and whether thou wilt be a guest or a wayfarer this night.’ + +As she touched him there took hold of him a sweetness of pleasure he had +never felt erst, and he answered: ‘I will be thy guest and not thy +stranger.’ + +‘Come then,’ she said, and took his hand in hers, so that he scarce felt +the earth under his feet, as they went all three together toward the +house in the gathering dusk, while eastward where the peaks of the great +mountains dipped was a light that told of the rising of the moon. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. OF FACE-OF-GOD AND THOSE MOUNTAIN-DWELLERS. + + +A YARD or two from the threshold Gold-mane hung back a moment, entangled +in some such misgiving as a man is wont to feel when he is just about to +do some new deed, but is not yet deep in the story; his new friends noted +that, for they smiled each in their own way, and the woman drew her hand +away from his. Face-of-god held out his still as though to take hers +again, and therewithal he changed countenance and said as though he had +stayed but to ask that question: + +‘Tell me thy name, tall man; and thou, fair woman, tell me thine; for how +can we talk together else?’ + +The man laughed outright and said: ‘The young chieftain thinks that this +house also should be his! Nay, young man, I know what is in thy thought, +be not ashamed that thou art wary; and be assured! We shall hurt thee no +more than thou hast been hurt. Now as to my name; the name that was born +with me is gone: the name that was given me hath been taken from me: now +I belike must give myself a name, and that shall be Wild-wearer; but it +may be that thou thyself shalt one day give me another, and call me +Guest.’ + +His sister gazed at him solemnly as he spoke, and Face-of-god beholding +her the while, deemed that her beauty grew and grew till she seemed as +aweful as a Goddess; and into his mind it came that this over-strong man +and over-lovely woman were nought mortal, and they withal dealing with +him as father and mother deal with a wayward child: then for a moment his +heart failed him, and he longed for the peace of Burgdale, and even the +lonely wood. But therewith she turned to him and let her hand come into +his again, and looked kindly on him and said: ‘And as for me, call me the +Friend; the name is good and will serve for many things.’ + +He looked down from her face and his eyes lighted on her hand, and when +he noted even amid the evening dusk how fair and lovely it was fashioned, +and yet as though it were deft in the crafts that the daughters of +menfolk use, his fear departed, and the pleasure of his longing filled +his heart, and he drew her hand to him to kiss it; but she held it back. +Then he said: ‘It is the custom of the Dale to all women.’ + +So she let him kiss her hand, heeding the kiss nothing, and said soberly: + +‘Then art thou of Burgdale, and if it were lawful to guess, I would say +that thy name is Face-of-god, of the House of the Face.’ + +‘Even so it is,’ said he, ‘but in the Dale those that love me do mostly +call me Gold-mane.’ + +‘It is well named,’ she said, ‘and seldom wilt thou be called otherwise, +for thou wilt be well-beloved. But come in now, Gold-mane, for night is +at hand, and here have we meat and lodging such as an hungry and weary +man may take; though we be broken people, dwellers in the waste.’ + +Therewith she led him gently over the threshold into the hall, and it +seemed to him as if she were the fairest and the noblest of all the +Queens of ancient story. + +When he was in the house he looked and saw that, rough as it was without +it lacked not fairness within. The floor was of hard-trodden earth +strewn with pine-twigs, and with here and there brown bearskins laid on +it: there was a standing table near the upper end athwart the hall, and a +days beyond that, but no endlong table. Gold-mane looked to the +shut-beds, and saw that they were large and fair, though there were but a +few of them; and at the lower end was a loft for a sleeping chamber dight +very fairly with broidered cloths. The hangings on the walls, though +they left some places bare which were hung with fresh boughs, were fairer +than any he had ever seen, so that he deemed that they must come from far +countries and the City of Cities: therein were images wrought of warriors +and fair women of old time and their dealings with the Gods and the +Giants, and Wondrous wights; and he deemed that this was the story of +some great kindred, and that their token and the sign of their banner +must needs be the Wood-wolf, for everywhere was it wrought in these +pictured webs. Perforce he looked long and earnestly at these fair +things, for the hall was not dark yet, because the brands on the hearth +were flaming their last, and when Wild-wearer beheld him so gazing, he +stood up and looked too for a moment, and then smote his right hand on +the hilt of his sword, and turned away and strode up and down the hall as +one in angry thought. + +But the woman, even the Friend, bestirred herself for the service of the +guest, and brought water for his hands and feet, and when she had washed +him, bore him the wine of Welcome and drank to him and bade him drink; +and he all the while was shamefaced; for it was to him as if one of the +Ladies of the Heavenly Burg were doing him service. Then she went away +by a door at the lower end of the hall, and Wild-wearer came and sat down +by Gold-mane, and fell a-talking with him about the ways of the Dalesmen, +and their garths, and the pastures and growths thereof; and what temper +the carles themselves were of; which were good men, which were ill, which +was loved and which scorned; no otherwise than if he had been the goodman +of some neighbouring dale; and Gold-mane told him whatso he knew, for he +saw no harm therein. + +After a while the outer door opened, and there came in a woman of some +five-and-twenty winters, trimly and strongly built; short-skirted she was +and clad as a hunter, with a bow in her hand and a quiver at her back: +she unslung a pouch, which she emptied at Wild-wearer’s feet of a leash +of hares and two brace of mountain grouse; of Face-of-god she took but +little heed. + +Said Wild-wearer: ‘This is good for to-morrow, not for to-day; the meat +is well-nigh on the board.’ + +Then Gold-mane smiled, for he called to mind his home-coming of +yesterday. But the woman said: + +‘The fault is not mine; she told me of the coming guest but three hours +agone.’ + +‘Ay?’ said Wild-wearer, ‘she looked for a guest then?’ + +‘Yea, certes,’ said the woman, ‘else why went I forth this afternoon, as +wearied as I was with yesterday?’ + +‘Well, well,’ said Wild-wearer, ‘get to thy due work or go play; I meddle +not with meat! and for thee all jests are as bitter earnest.’ + +‘And with thee, chief,’ she said, ‘it is no otherwise; surely I am made +on thy model.’ + +‘Thy tongue is longer, friend,’ said he; ‘now tarry if thou wilt, and if +the supper’s service craveth thee not.’ + +She turned away with one keen look at Face-of-god, and departed through +the door at the lower end of the hall. + +By this time the hall was dusk, for there were no candles there, and the +hearth-fire was but smouldering. Wild-wearer sat silent and musing now, +and Face-of-god spake not, for he was deep in wild and happy dreams. At +last the lower door opened and the fair woman came into the hall with a +torch in either hand, after whom came the huntress, now clad in a dark +blue kirtle, and an old woman yet straight and hale; and these twain bore +in the victuals and the table-gear. Then the three fell to dighting the +board, and when it was all ready, and Gold-mane and Wild-wearer were set +down to it, and with them the fair woman and the huntress, the old woman +threw good store of fresh brands on the hearth, so that the light shone +into every corner; and even therewith the outer door opened, and four +more men entered, whereof one was old, but big and stalwarth, the other +three young: they were all clad roughly in sheep-brown weed, but had +helms upon their heads and spears in their hands and great swords girt to +their sides; and they seemed doughty men and ready for battle. One of +the young men cast down by the door the carcass of a big-horned mountain +sheep, and then they all trooped off to the out-bower by the lower door, +and came back presently fairly clad and without their weapons. +Wild-wearer nodded to them kindly, and they sat at table paying no more +heed to Face-of-god than to cast him a nod for salutation. + +Then said the old woman to them: ‘Well, lads, have ye been doing or +sleeping?’ + +‘Sleeping, mother,’ said one of the young men, ‘as was but due after last +night was, and to-morrow shall be.’ + +Said the huntress: ‘Hold thy peace, Wood-wise, and let thy tongue help +thy teeth to deal with thy meat; for this is not the talking hour.’ + +‘Nay, Bow-may,’ said another of the swains, ‘since here is a new man, now +is the time to talk to him.’ + +Said the huntress: ‘’Tis thine hands that talk best, Wood-wont; it is not +they that shall bring thee to shame.’ + +Spake the third: ‘What have we to do with shame here, far away from dooms +and doomers, and elders, and wardens, and guarded castles? If the new +man listeth to speak, let him speak; or to fight, then let him; it shall +ever be man to man.’ + +Then spake the old woman: ‘Son Wood-wicked, hold thy peace, and forget +the steel that ever eggeth thee on to draw.’ + +Therewith she set the last matters on the board, while the three swains +sat and eyed Gold-mane somewhat fiercely, now that words had stirred +them, and he had sat there saying nothing, as one who was better than +they, and contemned them; but now spake Wild-wearer: + +‘Whoso hungreth let him eat! Whoso would slumber, let him to bed. But +he who would bicker, it must needs be with me. Here is a man of the +Dale, who hath sought the wood in peace, and hath found us. His hand is +ready and his heart is guileless: if ye fear him, run away to the wood, +and come back when he is gone; but none shall mock him while I sit by: +now, lads, be merry and blithe with the guest.’ + +Then the young men greeted Gold-mane, and the old man said: ‘Art thou of +Burgstead? then wilt thou be of the House of the Face, and thy name will +be Face-of-god; for that man is called the fairest of the Dale, and there +shall be none fairer than thou.’ + +Face-of-god laughed and said: ‘There be but few mirrors in Burgdale, and +I have no mind to journey west to the cities to see what manner of man I +be: that were ill husbandry. But now I have heard the names of the three +swains, tell me thy name, father!’ + +Spake the huntress: ‘This is my father’s brother, and his name is +Wood-father; or ye shall call him so: and I am called Bow-may because I +shoot well in the bow: and this old carline is my eme’s wife, and now +belike my mother, if I need one. But thou, fair-faced Dalesman, little +dost thou need a mirror in the Dale so long as women abide there; for +their faces shall be instead of mirrors to tell thee whether thou be fair +and lovely.’ + +Thereat they all laughed and fell to their victual, which was abundant, +of wood-venison and mountain-fowl, but of bread was no great plenty; wine +lacked not, and that of the best; and Gold-mane noted that the cups and +the apparel of the horns and mazers were not of gold nor gilded copper, +but of silver; and he marvelled thereat, for in the Dale silver was rare. + +So they ate and drank, and Gold-mane looked ever on the Friend, and spake +much with her, and he deemed her friendly indeed, and she seemed most +pleased when he spoke best, and led him on to do so. Wild-wearer was but +of few words, and those somewhat harsh; yet was he as a man striving to +be courteous and blithe; but of the others Bow-may was the greatest +speaker. + +Wild-wearer called healths to the Sun, and the Moon, and the Hosts of +Heaven; to the Gods of the Earth; to the Woodwights; and to the Guest. +Other healths also he called, the meaning of which was dark to Gold-mane; +to wit, the Jaws of the Wolf; the Silver Arm; the Red Hand; the Golden +Bushel; and the Ragged Sword. But when he asked the Friend concerning +these names what they might signify, she shook her head and answered not. + +At last Wild-wearer cried out: ‘Now, lads, the night weareth and the +guest is weary: therefore whoso of you hath in him any minstrelsy, now +let him make it, for later on it shall be over-late.’ + +Then arose Wood-wont and went to his shut-bed and groped therein, and +took from out of it a fiddle in its case; and he opened the case and drew +from it a very goodly fiddle, and he stood on the floor amidst of the +hall and Bow-may his cousin with him; and he laid his bow on the fiddle +and woke up song in it, and when it was well awake she fell a-singing, +and he to answering her song, and at the last all they of the house sang +together; and this is the meaning of the words which they sang: + + _She singeth_. + + Now is the rain upon the day, + And every water’s wide; + Why busk ye then to wear the way, + And whither will ye ride? + + _He singeth_. + + Our kine are on the eyot still, + The eddies lap them round; + All dykes the wind-worn waters fill, + And waneth grass and ground. + + _She singeth_. + + O ride ye to the river’s brim + In war-weed fair to see? + Or winter waters will ye swim + In hauberks to the knee? + + _He singeth_. + + Wild is the day, and dim with rain, + Our sheep are warded ill; + The wood-wolves gather for the plain, + Their ravening maws to fill. + + _She singeth_. + + Nay, what is this, and what have ye, + A hunter’s band, to bear + The Banner of our Battle-glee + The skulking wolves to scare? + + _He singeth_. + + O women, when we wend our ways + To deal with death and dread, + The Banner of our Fathers’ Days + Must flap the wind o’erhead. + + _She singeth_. + + Ah, for the maidens that ye leave! + Who now shall save the hay? + What grooms shall kiss our lips at eve, + When June hath mastered May? + + _He singeth_. + + The wheat is won, the seed is sown, + Here toileth many a maid, + And ere the hay knee-deep hath grown + Your grooms the grass shall wade. + + _They sing all together_. + + Then fair befall the mountain-side + Whereon the play shall be! + And fair befall the summer-tide + That whoso lives shall see. + +Face-of-god thought the song goodly, but to the others it was well known. +Then said Wood-father: + +‘O foster-son, thy foster-brother hath sung well for a wood abider; but +we are deeming that his singing shall be but as a starling to a throstle +matched against thy new-come guest. Therefore, Dalesman, sing us a song +of the Dale, and if ye will, let it be of gardens and pleasant houses of +stone, and fair damsels therein, and swains with them who toil not +over-much for a scant livelihood, as do they of the waste, whose heads +may not be seen in the Holy Places.’ + +Said Gold-mane: ‘Father, it is ill to set the words of a lonely man afar +from his kin against the song that cometh from the heart of a noble +house; yet may I not gainsay thee, but will sing to thee what I may call +to mind, and it is called the Song of the Ford.’ + +Therewith he sang in a sweet and clear voice: and this is the meaning of +his words: + + In hay-tide, through the day new-born, + Across the meads we come; + Our hauberks brush the blossomed corn + A furlong short of home. + + Ere yet the gables we behold + Forth flasheth the red sun, + And smites our fallow helms and cold + Though all the fight be done. + + In this last mend of mowing-grass + Sweet doth the clover smell, + Crushed neath our feet red with the pass + Where hell was blent with hell. + + And now the willowy stream is nigh, + Down wend we to the ford; + No shafts across its fishes fly, + Nor flasheth there a sword. + + But lo! what gleameth on the bank + Across the water wan, + As when our blood the mouse-ear drank + And red the river ran? + + Nay, hasten to the ripple clear, + Look at the grass beyond! + Lo ye the dainty band and dear + Of maidens fair and fond! + + Lo how they needs must take the stream! + The water hides their feet; + On fair kind arms the gold doth gleam, + And midst the ford we meet. + + Up through the garden two and two, + And on the flowers we drip; + Their wet feet kiss the morning dew + As lip lies close to lip. + + Here now we sing; here now we stay: + By these grey walls we tell + The love that lived from out the fray, + The love that fought and fell. + +When he was done they all said that he had sung well, and that the song +was sweet. Yet did Wild-wearer smile somewhat; and Bow-may said +outright: ‘Soft is the song, and hath been made by lads and minstrels +rather than by warriors.’ + +‘Nay, kinswoman,’ said Wood-father, ‘thou art hard to please; the guest +is kind, and hath given us that I asked for, and I give him all thanks +therefor.’ + +Face-of-god smiled, but he heeded little what they said, for as he sang +he had noted that the Friend looked kindly on him; and he thought he saw +that once or twice she put out her hand as if to touch him, but drew it +back again each time. She spake after a little and said: + +‘Here now hath been a stream of song running betwixt the Mountain and the +Dale even as doth a river; and this is good to come between our dreams of +what hath been and what shall be.’ Then she turned to Gold-mane, and +said to him scarce loud enough for all to hear: + +‘Herewith I bid thee good-night, O Dalesman; and this other word I have +to thee: heed not what befalleth in the night, but sleep thy best, for +nought shall be to thy scathe. And when thou wakest in the morning, if +we are yet here, it is well; but if we are not, then abide us no long +while, but break thy fast on the victual thou wilt find upon the board, +and so depart and go thy ways home. And yet thou mayst look to it to see +us again before thou diest.’ + +Therewith she held out her hand to him, and he took it and kissed it; and +she went to her chamber-aloft at the lower end of the hall. And when she +was gone, once more he had a deeming of her that she was of the kindred +of the Gods. At her departure him-seemed that the hall grew dull and +small and smoky, and the night seemed long to him and doubtful the coming +of the day. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. FACE-OF-GOD TALKETH WITH THE FRIEND ON THE MOUNTAIN. + + +SO now went all men to bed; and Face-to-god’s shut-bed was over against +the outer door and toward the lower end of the hall, and on the panel +about it hung the weapons and shields of men. Fair was that chamber and +roomy, and the man was weary despite his eagerness, so that he went to +sleep as soon as his head touched the pillow; but within a while (he +deemed about two hours after midnight) he was awaked by the clattering of +the weapons against the panel, and the sound of men’s hands taking them +down; and when he was fully awake, he heard withal men going up and down +the house as if on errands: but he called to mind what the Friend had +said to him, and he did not so much as turn himself toward the hall; for +he said: ‘Belike these men are outlaws and Wolves of the Holy Places, yet +by seeming they are good fellows and nought churlish, nor have I to do +with taking up the feud against them. I will abide the morning. Yet +meseemeth that she drew me hither: for what cause?’ + +Therewith he fell asleep again, and dreamed no more. But when he awoke +the sun was shining broad upon the hall-floor, and he sat up and +listened, but could hear no sound save the moaning of the wind in the +pine-boughs and the chatter of the starlings about the gables of the +house; and the place seemed so exceeding lonely to him that he was in a +manner feared by that loneliness. + +Then he arose and clad himself, and went forth into the hall and gazed +about him, and at first he deemed indeed that there was no one therein. +But at last he looked and beheld the upper gable and there underneath a +most goodly hanging was the glorious shape of a woman sitting on a bench +covered over with a cloth of gold and silver; and he looked and looked to +see if the woman might stir, and if she were alive, and she turned her +head toward him, and lo it was the Friend; and his heart rose to his +mouth for wonder and fear and desire. For now he doubted whether the +other folk were aught save shows and shadows, and she the Goddess who had +fashioned them out of nothing for his bewilderment, presently to return +to nothing. + +Yet whatever he might fear or doubt, he went up the hall towards her till +he was quite nigh to her, and there he stood silent, wondering at her +beauty and desiring her kindness. + +Grey-eyed she was like her brother; but her hair the colour of red wheat: +her lips full and red, her chin round, her nose fine and straight. Her +hands and all her body fashioned exceeding sweetly and delicately; yet +not as if she were an image of which the like might be found if the +craftsman were but deft enough to make a perfect thing, but in such a way +that there was none like to her for those that had eyes to behold her as +she was; and none could ever be made like to her, even by such a +master-craftsman as could fashion a body without a blemish. + +She was clad in a white smock, whose hems were broidered with gold wire +and precious gems of the Mountains, and over that a gown woven of gold +and silver: scarce hath the world such another. On her head was a fillet +of gold and gems, and there were wondrous gold rings on her arms: her +feet lay bare on the dark grey wolf-skin that was stretched before her. + +She smiled kindly upon his solemn and troubled face, and her voice +sounded strangely familiar to him coming from all that loveliness, as she +said: ‘Hail, Face-of-god! here am I left alone, although I deemed last +night that I should be gone with the others. Therefore am I fain to show +myself to thee in fairer array than yesternight; for though we dwell in +the wild-wood, from the solace of folk, yet are we not of thralls’ blood. +But come now, I bid thee break thy fast and talk with me a little while; +and then shalt thou depart in peace.’ + +Spake Face-of-god, and his voice trembled as he spake: ‘What art thou? +Last night I deemed at whiles once and again that thou wert of the Gods; +and now that I behold thee thus, and it is broad daylight, and of those +others is no more to be seen than if they had never lived, I cannot but +deem that it is even so, and that thou comest from the City that shall +never perish. Now if thou be a goddess, I have nought to pray thee, save +to slay me speedily if thou hast a mind for my death. But if thou art a +woman—’ + +She broke in: ‘Gold-mane, stay thy prayer and hold thy peace for this +time, lest thou repent when repentance availeth not. And this I say +because I am none of the Gods nor akin to them, save far off through the +generations, as art thou also, and all men of goodly kindred. Now I bid +thee eat thy meat, since ’tis ill talking betwixt a full man and a +fasting; and I have dight it myself with mine own hands; for Bow-may and +the Wood-mother went away with the rest three hours before dawn. Come +sit and eat as thou hast a hardy heart; as forsooth thou shouldest do if +I were a very goddess. Take heed, friend, lest I take thee for some +damsel of the lower Dale arrayed in Earl’s garments.’ + +She laughed therewith, and leaned toward him and put forth her hand to +him, and he took it and caressed it; and the exceeding beauty of her body +and of the raiment which was as it were a part of her and her loveliness, +made her laughter and her friendly words strange to him, as if one did +not belong to the other; as in a dream it might be. Nevertheless he did +as she bade him, and sat at the board and ate, while she leaned forward +on the arm of her chair and spake to him in friendly wise. And he +wondered as she spake that she knew so much of him and his: and he kept +saying to himself: ‘She drew me hither; wherefore did she so?’ + +But she said: ‘Gold-mane, how fareth thy father the Alderman? is he as +good a wright as ever?’ + +He told her: Yea, that ever was his hammer on the iron, the copper, and +the gold, and that no wright in the Dale was as deft as he. + +Said she: ‘Would he not have had thee seek to the Cities, to see the ways +of the outer world?’ + +‘Yea,’ said he. + +She said: ‘Thou wert wise to naysay that offer; thou shalt have enough to +do in the Dale and round about it in twelve months’ time.’ + +‘Art thou foresighted?’ said he. + +‘Folk have called me so,’ she said, ‘but I wot not. But thy brother +Hall-face, how fareth he?’ + +‘Well;’ said he, ‘to my deeming he is the Sword of our House, and the +Warrior of the Dale, if the days were ready for him.’ + +‘And Stone-face, that stark ancient,’ she said, ‘doth he still love the +Folk of the Dale, and hate all other folks?’ + +‘Nay,’ he said, ‘I know not that, but I know that he loveth as, and above +all me and my father.’ + +Again she spake: ‘How fareth the Bride, the fair maid to whom thou art +affianced?’ + +As she spake, it was to him as if his heart was stricken cold; but he put +a force upon himself, and neither reddened nor whitened, nor changed +countenance in any way; so he answered: + +‘She was well the eve of yesterday.’ Then he remembered what she was, +and her beauty and valour, and he constrained himself to say: ‘Each day +she groweth fairer; there is no man’s son and no daughter of woman that +does not love her; yea, the very beasts of field and fold love her.’ + +The Friend looked at him steadily and spake no word, but a red flush +mounted to her cheeks and brow and changed her face; and he marvelled +thereat; for still he misdoubted that she was a Goddess. But it passed +away in a moment, and she smiled and said: + +‘Guest, thou seemest to wonder that I know concerning thee and the Dale +and thy kindred. But now shalt thou wot that I have been in the Dale +once and again, and my brother oftener still; and that I have seen thee +before yesterday.’ + +‘That is marvellous,’ quoth he, ‘for sure am I that I have not seen +thee.’ + +‘Yet thou hast seen me,’ she said; ‘yet not altogether as I am now;’ and +therewith she smiled on him friendly. + +‘How is this?’ said he; ‘art thou a skin-changer?’ + +‘Yea, in a fashion,’ she said. ‘Hearken! dost thou perchance remember a +day of last summer when there was a market holden in Burgstead; and there +stood in the way over against the House of the Face a tall old carle who +was trucking deer-skins for diverse gear; and with him was a queen, tall +and dark-skinned, somewhat well-liking, her hair bound up in a white coif +so that none of it could be seen; by the token that she had a large stone +of mountain blue set in silver stuck in the said coif?’ + +As she spoke she set her hand to her bosom and drew something from it, +and held forth her hand to Gold-mane, and lo amidst the palm the great +blue stone set in silver. + +‘Wondrous as a dream is this,’ said Face-of-god, ‘for these twain I +remember well, and what followed.’ + +She said: ‘I will tell thee that. There came a man of the Shepherd-Folk, +drunk or foolish, or both, who began to chaffer with the big carle; but +ever on the queen were his eyes set, and presently he put forth his hand +to her to clip her, whereon the big carle hove up his fist and smote him, +so that he fell to earth noseling. Then ran the folk together to hale +off the stranger and help the shepherd, and it was like that the stranger +should be mishandled. Then there thrust through the press a young man +with yellow hair and grey eyes, who cried out, “Fellows, let be! The +stranger had the right of it; this is no matter to make a quarrel or a +court case of. Let the market go on! This man and maid are true folk.” +So when the folk heard the young man and his bidding, they forebore and +let the carle and the queen be, and the shepherd went his ways little +hurt. Now then, who was this young man?’ + +Quoth Gold-mane: ‘It was even I, and meseemeth it was no great deed to +do.’ + +‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and the big carle was my brother, and the tall queen, +it was myself.’ + +‘How then,’ said he, ‘for she was as dark-skinned as a dwarf, and thou so +bright and fair?’ + +She said: ‘Well, if the woods are good for nothing else, yet are they +good for the growing of herbs, and I know the craft of simpling; and with +one of these herbs had I stained my skin and my brother’s also. And it +showed the darker beneath the white coif.’ + +‘Yea,’ said he, ‘but why must ye needs fare in feigned shapes? Ye would +have been welcome guests in the Dale howsoever ye had come.’ + +‘I may not tell thee hereof as now,’ said she. + +Said Gold-mane: ‘Yet thou mayst belike tell me wherefore was that thy +brother desired to slay me yesterday, if he knew me, who I was.’ + +‘Gold-mane,’ she said, ‘thou art not slain, so little story need be made +of that: for the rest, belike he knew thee not at that moment. So it +falls with us, that we look to see foes rather than friends in the +wild-woods. Many uncouth things are therein. Moreover, I must tell thee +of my brother that whiles he is as the stalled bull late let loose, and +nothing is good to him save battle and onset; and then is he blind and +knows not friend from foe.’ Said Face-of-god: ‘Thou hast asked of me and +mine; wilt thou not tell me of thee and thine?’ + +‘Nay,’ she said, ‘not as now; thou must betake thee to the way. Whither +wert thou wending when thou happenedst upon us?’ + +He said: ‘I know not; I was seeking something, but I knew not +what—meseemeth that now I have found it.’ + +‘Art thou for the great mountains seeking gems?’ she said. ‘Yet go not +thither to-day: for who knoweth what thou shalt meet there that shall be +thy foe?’ + +He said: ‘Nay, nay; I have nought to do but to abide here as long as I +may, looking upon thee and hearkening to thy voice.’ + +Her eyes were upon his, but yet she did not seem to see him, and for a +while she answered not; and still he wondered that mere words should come +from so fair a thing; for whether she moved foot, or hand, or knee, or +turned this way or that, each time she stirred it was a caress to his +very heart. + +He spake again: ‘May I not abide here a while? What scathe may be in +that?’ + +‘It is not so,’ she said; ‘thou must depart, and that straightway: lo, +there lieth thy spear which the Wood-mother hath brought in from the +waste. Take thy gear to thee and wend thy ways. Have patience! I will +lead thee to the place where we first met and there give thee farewell.’ + +Therewith she arose and he also perforce, and when they came to the +doorway she stepped across the threshold and then turned back and gave +him her hand and so led him forth, the sun flashing back from her golden +raiment. Together they went over the short grey grass of that hillside +till they came to the place where he had arisen from that wrestle with +her brother. There she stayed him and said: + +‘This is the place; here must we part.’ + +But his heart failed him and he faltered in his speech as he said: + +‘When shall I see thee again? Wilt thou slay me if I seek to thee hither +once more?’ + +‘Hearken,’ she said, ‘autumn is now a-dying into winter: let winter and +its snows go past: nor seek to me hither; for me thou should’st not find, +but thy death thou mightest well fall in with; and I would not that thou +shouldest die. When winter is gone, and spring is on the land, if thou +hast not forgotten us thou shalt meet us again. Yet shalt thou go +further than this Woodland Hall. In Shadowy Vale shalt thou seek to me +then, and there will I talk with thee.’ + +‘And where,’ said he, ‘is Shadowy Vale? for thereof have I never heard +tell.’ + +She said: ‘The token when it cometh to thee shall show thee thereof and +the way thither. Art thou a babbler, Gold-mane?’ + +He said: ‘I have won no prize for babbling hitherto.’ + +She said: ‘If thou listest to babble concerning what hath befallen thee +on the Mountain, so do, and repent it once only, that is, thy life long.’ + +‘Why should I say any word thereof?’ said he. ‘Dost thou not know the +sweetness of such a tale untold?’ + +He spake as one who is somewhat wrathful, and she answered humbly and +kindly: + +‘Well is that. Bide thou the token that shall lead thee to Shadowy Vale. +Farewell now.’ + +She drew her hand from his, and turned and went her ways swiftly to the +house: he could not choose but gaze on her as she went glittering-bright +and fair in that grey place of the mountains, till the dark doorway +swallowed up her beauty. Then he turned away and took the path through +the pine-woods, muttering to himself as he went: + +‘What thing have I done now that hitherto I had not done? What manner of +man am I to-day other than the man I was yesterday?’ + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. FACE-OF-GOD COMETH HOME AGAIN TO BURGSTEAD. + + +FACE-OF-GOD went back through the wood by the way he had come, paying +little heed to the things about him. For whatever he thought of strayed +not one whit from the image of the Fair Woman of the Mountain-side. + +He went through the wood swiftlier than yesterday, and made no stay for +noon or aught else, nor did he linger on the road when he was come into +the Dale, either to speak to any or to note what they did. So he came to +the House of the Face about dusk, and found no man within the hall either +carle or queen. So he cried out on the folk, and there came in a damsel +of the house, whom he greeted kindly and she him again. He bade her +bring the washing-water, and she did so and washed his feet and his +hands. She was a fair maid enough, as were most in the Dale, but he +heeded her little; and when she was done he kissed not her cheek for her +pains, as his wont was, but let her go her ways unthanked. But he went +to his shut-bed and opened his chest, and drew fair raiment from it, and +did off his wood-gear, and did on him a goodly scarlet kirtle fairly +broidered, and a collar with gems of price therein, and other braveries. +And when he was so attired he came out into the hall, and there was old +Stone-face standing by the hearth, which was blazing brightly with fresh +brands, so that things were clear to see. + +Stone-face noted Gold-mane’s gay raiment, for he was not wont to wear +such attire, save on the feasts and high days when he behoved to. So the +old man smiled and said: + +‘Welcome back from the Wood! But what is it? Hast thou been wedded +there, or who hath made thee Earl and King?’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Foster-father, sooth it is that I have been to the +wood, but there have I seen nought of manfolk worse than myself. Now as +to my raiment, needs must I keep it from the moth. And I am weary +withal, and this kirtle is light and easy to me. Moreover, I look to see +the Bride here again, and I would pleasure her with the sight of gay +raiment upon me.’ + +‘Nay,’ said Stone-face, ‘hast thou not seen some woman in the wood +arrayed like the image of a God? and hath she not bidden thee thus to +worship her to-night? For I know that such wights be in the wood, and +that such is their wont.’ + +Said Gold-mane: ‘I worship nought save the Gods and the Fathers. Nor saw +I in the wood any such as thou sayest.’ + +Therewith Stone-face shook his head; but after a while he said: + +‘Art thou for the wood to-morrow?’ + +‘Nay,’ said Gold-mane angrily, knitting his brows. + +‘The morrow of to-morrow,’ said Stone-face, ‘is the day when we look to +see the Westland merchants: after all, wilt thou not go hence with them +when they wend their ways back before the first snows fall?’ + +‘Nay,’ said he, ‘I have no mind to it, fosterer; cease egging me on +hereto.’ + +Then Stone-face shook his head again, and looked on him long, and +muttered: ‘To the wood wilt thou go to-morrow or next day; or some day +when doomed is thine undoing.’ + +Therewith entered the service and torches, and presently after came the +Alderman with Hall-face; and Iron-face greeted his son and said to him: +‘Thou hast not hit the time to do on thy gay raiment, for the Bride will +not be here to-night; she bideth still at the Feast at the Apple-tree +House: or wilt thou be there, son?’ + +‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘I am over-weary. And as for my raiment, it is +well; it is for thine honour and the honour of the name.’ + +So to table they went, and Iron-face asked his son of his ways again, and +whether he was quite fixed in his mind not to go down to the Plain and +the Cities: ‘For,’ said he, ‘the morrow of to-morrow shall the merchants +be here, and this were great news for them if the son of the Alderman +should be their faring-fellow back.’ + +But Face-of-god answered without any haste or heat: ‘Nay, father, it may +not be: fear not, thou shalt see that I have a good will to work and live +in the Dale.’ + +And in good sooth, though he was a young man and loved mirth and the ways +of his own will, he was a stalwarth workman, and few could mow a match +with him in the hay-month and win it; or fell trees as certainly and +swiftly, or drive as straight and clean a furrow through the stiff land +of the lower Dale; and in other matters also was he deft and sturdy. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. THOSE BRETHREN FARE TO THE YEWWOOD WITH THE BRIDE. + + +NEXT morning Face-of-god dight himself for work, and took his axe; for +his brother Hall-face had bidden him go down with him to the Yew-wood and +cut timber there, since he of all men knew where to go straight to the +sticks that would quarter best for bow-staves; whereas the Alderman had +the right of hewing in that wood. So they went forth, those brethren, +from the House of the Face, but when they were gotten to the gate, who +should be there but the Bride awaiting them, and she with an ass duly +saddled for bearing the yew-sticks. Because Hall-face had told her that +he and belike Gold-mane were going to hew in the wood, and she thought it +good to be of the company, as oft had befallen erst. When they met she +greeted Face-of-god and kissed him as her wont was; and he looked upon +her and saw how fair she was, and how kind and friendly were her eyes +that beheld him, and how her whole face was eager for him as their lips +parted. Then his heart failed him, when he knew that he no longer +desired her as she did him, and he said within himself: + +‘Would that she had been of our nighest kindred! Would that I had had a +sister and that this were she!’ + +So the three went along the highway down the Dale, and Hall-face and the +Bride talked merrily together and laughed, for she was happy, since she +knew that Gold-mane had been to the wood and was back safe and much as he +had been before. So indeed it seemed of him; for though at first he was +moody and of few words, yet presently he cursed himself for a mar-sport, +and so fell into the talk, and enforced himself to be merry; and soon he +was so indeed; for he thought: ‘She drew me thither: she hath a deed for +me to do. I shall do the deed and have my reward. Soon will the +spring-tide be here, and I shall be a young man yet when it comes.’ + +So came they to the place where he had met the three maidens yesterday; +there they also turned from the highway; and as they went down the bent, +Gold-mane could not but turn his eyes on the beauty of the Bride and the +lovely ways of her body: but presently he remembered all that had betid, +and turned away again as one who is noting what it behoves him not to +note. And he said to himself: ‘Where art thou, Gold-mane? Whose art +thou? Yea, even if that had been but a dream that I have dreamed, yet +would that this fair woman were my sister!’ + +So came they to the Yew-wood, and the brethren fell to work, and the +Bride with them, for she was deft with the axe and strong withal. But at +midday they rested on the green slope without the Yew-wood; and they ate +bread and flesh and onions and apples, and drank red wine of the Dale. +And while they were resting after their meat, the Bride sang to them, and +her song was a lay of time past; and here ye have somewhat of it: + + ’Tis over the hill and over the dale + Men ride from the city fast and far, + If they may have a soothfast tale, + True tidings of the host of war. + + And first they hap on men-at-arms, + All clad in steel from head to foot: + Now tell true tale of the new-come harms, + And the gathered hosts of the mountain-root. + + Fair sirs, from murder-carles we flee, + Whose fashion is as the mountain-trolls’; + No man can tell how many they be, + And the voice of their host as the thunder rolls. + + They were weary men at the ending of day, + But they spurred nor stayed for longer word. + Now ye, O merchants, whither away? + What do ye there with the helm and the sword? + + O we must fight for life and gear, + For our beasts are spent and our wains are stayed, + And the host of the Mountain-men draws near, + That maketh all the world afraid. + + They left the chapmen on the hill, + And through the eve and through the night + They rode to have true tidings still, + And were there on the way when the dawn was bright. + + O damsels fair, what do ye then + To loiter thus upon the way, + And have no fear of the Mountain-men, + The host of the carles that strip and slay? + + O riders weary with the road, + Come eat and drink on the grass hereby! + And lay you down in a fair abode + Till the midday sun is broad and high; + + Then unto you shall we come aback, + And lead you forth to the Mountain-men, + To note their plenty and their lack, + And have true tidings there and then. + + ’Tis over the hill and over the dale + They ride from the mountain fast and far; + And now have they learned a soothfast tale, + True tidings of the host of war. + + It was summer-tide and the Month of Hay, + And men and maids must fare afield; + But we saw the place were the bow-staves lay, + And the hall was hung with spear and shield. + + When the moon was high we drank in the hall, + And they drank to the guests and were kind and blithe, + And they said: Come back when the chestnuts fall, + And the wine-carts wend across the hythe. + + Come oft and o’er again, they said; + Wander your ways; but we abide + For all the world in the little stead; + For wise are we, though the world be wide. + + Yea, come in arms if ye will, they said; + And despite your host shall we abide + For life or death in the little stead; + For wise are we, though the world be wide. + +So she made an end and looked at the fairness of the dale spreading wide +before her, and a robin came nigh from out of a thorn-bush and sung his +song also, the sweet herald of coming winter; and the lapwings wheeled +about, black and white, above the meadow by the river, sending forth +their wheedling pipe as they hung above the soft turf. + +She felt the brothers near her, and knew their friendliness from of old, +and she was happy; nor had she looked closer at Gold-mane would she have +noted any change in him belike; for the meat and the good wine, and the +fair sunny time, and the Bride’s sweet voice, and the ancient song +softened his heart while it fed the desire therein. + +So in a while they arose from their rest and did what was left them of +their work, and so went back to Burgstead through the fair afternoon; by +seeming all three in all content. But yet Gold-mane, as from time to +time he looked upon the Bride, kept saying to himself: ‘O if she had been +but my sister! sweet had the kinship been!’ + + + + +CHAPTER X. NEW TIDINGS IN THE DALE. + + +IT was three days thereafter that Gold-mane, leading an ass, went along +the highway to fetch home certain fleeces which were needed for the house +from a stead a little west of Wildlake; but he had gone scant half a mile +ere he fell in with a throng of folk going to Burgstead. They were of +the Shepherds; they had weapons with them, and some were clad in coats of +fence. They went along making a great noise, for they were all talking +each to each at the same time, and seemed very hot and eager about some +matter. When they saw Gold-mane anigh, they stopped, and the throng +opened as if to let him into their midmost; so he mingled with them, and +they stood in a ring about him and an old man more ill-favoured than it +was the wont of the Dalesmen to be. + +For he was long, stooping, gaunt and spindle-shanked, his hands big and +crippled with gout: his cheeks were red after an old man’s fashion, +covered with a crimson network like a pippin; his lips thin and not well +hiding his few teeth; his nose long like a snipe’s neb. In short, a +shame and a laughing-stock to the Folk, and a man whom the kindreds had +in small esteem, and that for good reasons. + +Face-of-god knew him at once for a notable close-fist and starve-all fool +of the Shepherds; and his name was now become Penny-thumb the Lean, +whatever it might once have been. + +So Face-of-god greeted all men, and they him again; and he said: ‘What +aileth you, neighbours? Your weapons, are bare, but I see not that they +be bloody. What is it, goodman Penny-thumb?’ + +Penny-thumb did but groan for all answer; but a stout carle who stood by +with a broad grin on his face answered and said: + +‘Face-of-god, evil tidings be abroad; the strong-thieves of the wood are +astir; and some deem that the wood-wights be helping them.’ + +‘Yea, and what is the deed they have done?’ said Gold-mane. + +Said the carle: ‘Thou knowest Penny-thumb’s abode?’ + +‘Yea surely,’ said Face-of-god; ‘fair are the water-meadows about it; +great gain of cheese can be gotten thence.’ + +‘Hast thou been within the house?’ said the carle. + +‘Nay,’ said Gold-mane. + +Then spake Penny-thumb: ‘Within is scant gear: we gather for others to +scatter; we make meat for others’ mouths.’ + +The carle laughed: ‘Sooth is that,’ said he, ‘that there is little gear +therein now; for the strong-thieves have voided both hall and bower and +byre.’ + +‘And when was that?’ said Face-of-god. + +‘The night before last night,’ said the carle, ‘the door was smitten on, +and when none answered it was broken down.’ + +‘Yea,’ quoth Penny-thumb, ‘a host entered, and they in arms.’ + +‘No host was within,’ said the carle, ‘nought but Penny-thumb and his +sister and his sister’s son, and three carles that work for him; and one +of them, Rusty to wit, was the worst man of the hill-country. These then +the host whereof the goodman telleth bound, but without doing them any +scathe; and they ransacked the house, and took away much gear; yet left +some.’ + +‘Thou liest,’ said Penny-thumb; ‘they took little and left none.’ + +Thereat all men laughed, for this seemed to them good game, and another +man said: ‘Well, neighbour Penny-thumb, if it was so little, thou hast +done unneighbourly in giving us such a heap of trouble about it.’ + +And they laughed again, but the first carle said: ‘True it is, goodman, +that thou wert exceeding eager to raise the hue and cry after that little +when we happed upon thee and thy housemates bound in your chairs +yesterday morning. Well, Alderman’s son, short is the tale to tell: we +could not fail to follow the gear, and the slot led us into the wood, and +ill is the going there for us shepherds, who are used to the bare downs, +save Rusty, who was a good woodsman and lifted the slot for us; so he +outwent us all, and ran out of sight of us, so presently we came upon him +dead-slain, with the manslayer’s spear in his breast. What then could we +do but turn back again, for now was the wood blind now Rusty was dead, +and we knew not whither to follow the fray; and the man himself was but +little loss: so back we turned, and told goodman Penny-thumb of all this, +for we had left him alone in his hall lamenting his gear; so we bided +to-day’s morn, and have come out now, with our neighbour and the spear, +and the dead corpse of Rusty. Stand aside, neighbours, and let the +Alderman’s son see it.’ + +They did so, and there was the corpse of a thin-faced tall wiry man, +somewhat foxy of aspect, lying on a hand-bier covered with black cloth. + +‘Yea, Face-of-god,’ said the carle, ‘he is not good to see now he is +dead, yet alive was he worser: but, look you, though the man was no good +man, yet was he of our people, and the feud is with us; so we would see +the Alderman, and do him to wit of the tidings, that he may call the +neighbours together to seek a blood-wite for Rusty and atonement for the +ransacking. Or what sayest thou?’ + +‘Have ye the spear that ye found in Rusty?’ quoth Gold-mane. + +‘Yea verily,’ said the carle. ‘Hither with it, neighbours; give it to +the Alderman’s son.’ + +So the spear came into his hand, and he looked at it and said: + +‘This is no spear of the smiths’ work of the Dale, as my father will tell +you. We take but little keep of the forging of spearheads here, so that +they be well-tempered and made so as to ride well on the shaft; but this +head, daintily is it wrought, the blood-trench as clean and trim as +though it were an Earl’s sword. See you withal this inlaying of runes on +the steel? It is done with no tin or copper, but with very silver; and +these bands about the shaft be of silver also. It is a fair weapon, and +the owner hath a loss of it greater than his gain in the slaying of +Rusty; and he will have left it in the wound so that he might be known +hereafter, and that he might be said not to have murdered Rusty but to +have slain him. Or how think ye?’ + +They all said that this seemed like to be; but that if the man who had +slain Rusty were one of the ransackers they might have a blood-wite of +him, if they could find him. Gold-mane said that so it was, and +therewithal he gave the shepherds good-speed and went on his way. + +But they came to Burgstead and found the Alderman, and in due time was a +Court held, and a finding uttered, and outlawry given forth for the +manslaying and the ransacking against certain men unknown. As for the +spear, it was laid up in the House of the Face. + +But Face-of-god pondered these matters in his mind, for such ransackings +there had been none of in late years; and he said to himself that his +friends of the Mountain must have other folk, of which the Dalesmen knew +nought, whose gear they could lift, or how could they live in that place. +And he marvelled that they should risk drawing the Dalesmen’s wrath upon +them; whereas they of the Dale were strong men not easily daunted, albeit +peaceable enough if not stirred to wrath. For in good sooth he had no +doubt concerning that spear, whose it was and whence it came: for that +very weapon had been leaning against the panel of his shut-bed the night +he slept on the Mountain, and all the other spears that he saw there were +more or less of the same fashion, and adorned with silver. + +Albeit all that he knew, and all that he thought of, he kept in his own +heart and said nothing of it. + +So wore the autumn into early winter; and the Westland merchants came in +due time, and departed without Face-of-god, though his father made him +that offer one last time. He went to and fro about his work in the Dale, +and seemed to most men’s eyes nought changed from what he had been. But +the Bride noted that he saw her less often than his wont was, and abode +with her a lesser space when he met her; and she could not think what +this might mean; nor had she heart to ask him thereof, though she was +sorry and grieved, but rather withdrew her company from him somewhat; and +when she perceived that he noted it not, and made no question of it, then +was she the sorrier. + +But the first winter-snow came on with a great storm of wind from the +north-east, so that no man stirred abroad who was not compelled thereto, +and those who went abroad risked life and limb thereby. Next morning all +was calm again, and the snow was deep, but it did not endure long, for +the wind shifted to the southwest and the thaw came, and three days +after, when folk could fare easily again up and down the Dale, came +tidings to Burgstead and the Alderman from the Lower Dale, how a house +called Greentofts had been ransacked there, and none knew by whom. Now +the goodman of Greentofts was little loved of the neighbours: he was +grasping and overbearing, and had often cowed others out of their due: he +was very cross-grained, both at home and abroad: his wife had fled from +his hand, neither did his sons find it good to abide with him: +therewithal he was wealthy of goods, a strong man and a deft man-at-arms. +When his sons and his wife departed from him, and none other of the +Dalesmen cared to abide with him, he went down into the Plain, and got +thence men to be with him for hire, men who were not well seen to in +their own land. These to the number of twelve abode with him, and did +his bidding whenso it pleased them. Two more had he had who had been +slain by good men of the Dale for their masterful ways; and no blood-wite +had been paid for them, because of their ill-doings, though they had not +been made outlaws. This man of Greentofts was called Harts-bane after +his father, who was a great hunter. + +Now the full tidings of the ransacking were these: The storm began two +hours before sunset, and an hour thereafter, when it was quite dark, for +without none could see because the wind was at its height and the drift +of the snow was hard and full, the hall-door flew open; and at first men +thought it had been the wind, until they saw in the dimness (for all +lights but the fire on the hearth had been quenched) certain things +tumbling in which at first they deemed were wolves; but when they took +swords and staves against them, lo they were met by swords and axes, and +they saw that the seeming wolves were men with wolf-skins drawn over +them. So the new-comers cowed them that they threw down their weapons, +and were bound in their places; but when they were bound, and had had +time to note who the ransackers were, they saw that there were but six of +them all told, who had cowed and bound Harts-bane and his twelve +masterful men; and this they deemed a great shaming to them, as might +well be. + +So then the stead was ransacked, and those wolves took away what they +would, and went their ways through the fierce storm, and none could tell +whether they had lived or died in it; but at least neither the men nor +their prey were seen again; nor did they leave any slot, for next morning +the snow lay deep over everything. + +No doubt had Gold-mane but that these ransackers were his friends of the +Mountain; but he held his peace, abiding till the winter should be over. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. MEN MAKE OATH AT BURGSTEAD ON THE HOLY BOAR. + + +A WEEK after the ransacking at Greentofts the snow and the winter came on +in earnest, and all the Dale lay in snow, and men went on skids when they +fared up and down the Dale or on the Mountain. + +All was now tidingless till Yule over, and in Burgstead was there +feasting and joyance enough; and especially at the House of the Face was +high-tide holden, and the Alderman and his sons and Stone-face and all +the kindred and all their men sat in glorious attire within the hall; and +many others were there of the best of the kindreds of Burgstead who had +been bidden. + +Face-of-god sat between his father and Stone-face; and he looked up and +down the tables and the hall and saw not the Bride, and his heart misgave +him because she was not there, and he wondered what had befallen and if +she were sick of sorrow. + +But Iron-face beheld him how he gazed about, and he laughed; for he was +exceeding merry that night and fared as a young man. Then he said to his +son: ‘Whom seekest thou, son? is there someone lacking?’ + +Face-of-god reddened as one who lies unused to it, and said: + +‘Yea, kinsman, so it is that I was seeking the Bride my kinswoman.’ + +‘Nay,’ said Iron-face, ‘call her not kinswoman: therein is ill-luck, lest +it seem that thou art to wed one too nigh thine own blood. Call her the +Bride only: to thee and to me the name is good. Well, son, desirest thou +sorely to see her?’ + +‘Yea, yea, surely,’ said Face-of-god; but his eyes went all about the +hall still, as though his mind strayed from the place and that home of +his. + +Said Iron-face: ‘Have patience, son, thou shalt see her anon, and that in +such guise as shall please thee.’ + +Therewithal came the maidens with the ewers of wine, and they filled all +horns and beakers, and then stood by the endlong tables on either side +laughing and talking with the carles and the older women; and the hall +was a fair sight to see, for the many candles burned bright and the fire +on the hearth flared up, and those maids were clad in fair raiment, and +there was none of them but was comely, and some were fair, and some very +fair: the walls also were hung with goodly pictured cloths, and the image +of the God of the Face looked down smiling terribly from the gable-end +above the high-seat. + +Thus as they sat they heard the sound of a horn winded close outside the +hall door, and the door was smitten on. Then rose Iron-face smiling +merrily, and cried out: + +‘Enter ye, whether ye be friends or foes: for if ye be foemen, yet shall +ye keep the holy peace of Yule, unless ye be the foes of all kindreds and +nations, and then shall we slay you.’ + +Thereat some who knew what was toward laughed; but Gold-mane, who had +been away from Burgstead some days past, marvelled and knit his brows, +and let his right hand fall on his sword-hilt. For this folk, who were +of merry ways, were wont to deal diversely with the Yule-tide customs in +the manner of shows; and he knew not that this was one of them. + +Now was the Outer door thrown open, and there entered seven men, whereof +two were all-armed in bright war-gear, and two bore slug-horns, and two +bore up somewhat on a dish covered over with a piece of rich cloth, and +the seventh stood before them all wrapped up in a dark fur mantle. + +Thus they stood a moment; and when he saw their number, back to +Gold-mane’s heart came the thought of those folk on the Mountain: for +indeed he was somewhat out of himself for doubt and longing, else would +he have deemed that all this was but a Yule-tide play. + +Now the men with the slug-horns set them to their mouths and blew a long +blast; while the first of the new-comers set hand to the clasps of the +fur cloak and let it fall to the ground, and lo! a woman exceeding +beauteous, clad in glistering raiment of gold and fine web; her hair +wreathed with bay, and in her hand a naked sword with goodly-wrought +golden hilt and polished blue-gleaming blade. + +Face-of-god started up in his sear, and stared like a man new-wakened +from a strange dream: because for one moment he deemed verily that it was +the Woman of the Mountain arrayed as he had last seen her, and he cried +aloud ‘The Friend, the Friend!’ + +His father brake out into loud laughter thereat, and clapped his son on +the shoulder and said: ‘Yea, yea, lad, thou mayst well say the Friend; +for this is thine old playmate whom thou hast been looking round the hall +for, arrayed this eve in such fashion as is meet for her goodliness and +her worthiness. Yea, this is the Friend indeed!’ + +Then waxed Face-of-god as red as blood for shame, and he sat him down in +his place again: for now he wotted what was toward, and saw that this +fair woman was the Bride. + +But Stone-face from the other side looked keenly on him. + +Then blew the horns again, and the Bride stepped daintily up the hall, +and the sweet odour of her raiment went from her about the fire-warmed +dwelling, and her beauty moved all hearts with love. So stood she at the +high-table; and those two who bore the burden set it down thereon and +drew off the covering, and lo! there was the Holy Boar of Yule on which +men were wont to make oath of deeds that they would do in the coming +year, according to the custom of their forefathers. Then the Bride laid +the goodly sword beside the dish, and then went round the table and sat +down betwixt Face-of-god and Stone-face, and turned kindly to Gold-mane, +and was glad; for now was his fair face as its wont was to be. He in +turn smiled upon her, for she was fair and kind and his fellow for many a +day. + +Now the men-at-arms stood each side the Boar, and out from them on each +side stood the two hornsmen: then these blew up again, whereon the +Alderman stood up and cried: + +‘Ye sons of the brave who have any deed that ye may be desirous of doing, +come up, come lay your hand on the sword, and the point of the sword to +the Holy Beast, and swear the oath that lieth on your hearts.’ + +Therewith he sat down, and there strode a man up the hall, strong-built +and sturdy, but short of stature; black-haired, red-bearded, and +ruddy-faced: and he stood on the daïs, and took up the sword and laid its +point on the Boar, and said: + +‘I am Bristler, son of Brightling, a man of the Shepherds. Here by the +Holy Boar I swear to follow up the ransackers of Penny-thumb and the +slayers of Rusty. And I take this feud upon me, although they be no good +men, because I am of the kin and it falleth to me, since others forbear; +and when the Court was hallowed hereon I was away out of the Dale and the +Downs. So help me the Warrior, and the God of the Earth.’ + +Then the Alderman nodded his head to him kindly, and reached him out a +cup of wine, and as he drank there went up a rumour of praise from the +hall; and men said that his oath was manly and that he was like to keep +it; for he was a good man-at-arms and a stout heart. + +Then came up three men of the Shepherds and two of the Dale and swore to +help Bristler in his feud, and men thought it well sworn. + +After that came a braggart, a man very gay of his raiment, and swore with +many words that if he lived the year through he would be a captain over +the men of the Plain, and would come back again with many gifts for his +friends in the Dale. This men deemed foolishly sworn, for they knew the +man; so they jeered at him and laughed as he went back to his place +ashamed. + +Then swore three others oaths not hard to be kept, and men laughed and +were merry. + +At last uprose the Alderman, and said: ‘Kinsmen, and good fellows, good +days and peaceable are in the Dale as now; and of such days little is the +story, and little it availeth to swear a deed of derring-do: yet three +things I swear by this Beast; and first to gainsay no man’s asking if I +may perform it; and next to set right above law and mercy above custom; +and lastly, if the days change and war cometh to us or we go to meet it, +I will be no backwarder in the onset than three fathoms behind the +foremost. So help me the Warrior, and the God of the Face and the Holy +Earth!’ + +Therewith he sat down, and all men shouted for joy of him, and said that +it was most like that he would keep his oath. + +Last of all uprose Face-of-god and took up the sword and looked at it; +and so bright was the blade that he saw in it the image of the golden +braveries which the Bride bore, and even some broken image of her face. +Then he handled the hilt and laid the point on the Boar, and cried: + +‘Hereby I swear to wed the fairest woman of the Earth before the year is +worn to an end; and that whether the Dalesmen gainsay me or the men +beyond the Dale. So help me the Warrior, and the God of the Face and the +Holy Earth!’ + +Therewith he sat down; and once more men shouted for the love of him and +of the Bride, and they said he had sworn well and like a chieftain. + +But the Bride noted him that neither were his eyes nor his voice like to +their wont as he swore, for she knew him well; and thereat was she ill at +ease, for now whatever was new in him was to her a threat of evil to +come. + +Stone-face also noted him, and he knew the young man better than all +others save the Bride, and he saw withal that she was ill-pleased, and he +said to himself: ‘I will speak to my fosterling to-morrow if I may find +him alone.’ + +So came the swearing to an end, and they fell to on their meat and +feasted on the Boar of Atonement after they had duly given the Gods their +due share, and the wine went about the hall and men were merry till they +drank the parting cup and fared to rest in the shut-beds, and whereso +else they might in the Hall and the House, for there were many men there. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. STONE-FACE TELLETH CONCERNING THE WOOD-WIGHTS. + + +EARLY on the morrow Gold-mane arose and clad himself and went out-a-doors +and over the trodden snow on to the bridge over the Weltering Water, and +there betook himself into one of the coins of safety built over the +up-stream piles; there he leaned against the wall and turned his face to +the Thorp, and fell to pondering on his case. And first he thought about +his oath, and how that he had sworn to wed the Mountain Woman, although +his kindred and her kindred should gainsay him, yea and herself also. +Great seemed that oath to him, yet at that moment he wished he had made +it greater, and made all the kindred, yea and the Bride herself, sure of +the meaning of the words of it: and he deemed himself a dastard that he +had not done so. Then he looked round him and beheld the winter, and he +fell into mere longing that the spring were come and the token from the +Mountain. Things seemed too hard for him to deal with, and he between a +mighty folk and two wayward women; and he went nigh to wish that he had +taken his father’s offer and gone down to the Cities; and even had he met +his bane: well were that! And, as young folk will, he set to work making +a picture of his deeds there, had he been there. He showed himself the +stricken fight in the plain, and the press, and the struggle, and the +breaking of the serried band, and himself amidst the ring of foemen doing +most valiantly, and falling there at last, his shield o’er-heavy with the +weight of foemen’s spears for a man to uphold it. Then the victory of +his folk and the lamentation and praise over the slain man of the +Mountain Dales, and the burial of the valiant warrior, the praising +weeping folk meeting him at the City-gate, laid stark and cold in his +arms on the gold-hung garlanded bier. + +There ended his dream, and he laughed aloud and said: ‘I am a fool! All +this were good and sweet if I should see it myself; and forsooth that is +how I am thinking of it, as if I still alive should see myself dead and +famous!’ + +Then he turned a little and looked at the houses of the Thorp lying dark +about the snowy ways under the starlit heavens of the winter morning: +dark they were indeed and grey, save where here and there the half-burned +Yule-fire reddened the windows of a hall, or where, as in one place, the +candle of some early waker shone white in a chamber window. There was +scarce a man astir, he deemed, and no sound reached him save the crowing +of the cocks muffled by their houses, and a faint sound of beasts in the +byres. + +Thus he stood a while, his thoughts wandering now, till presently he +heard footsteps coming his way down the street and turned toward them, +and lo it was the old man Stone-face. He had seen Gold-mane go out, and +had risen and followed him that he might talk with him apart. Gold-mane +greeted him kindly, though, sooth to say, he was but half content to see +him; since he doubted, what was verily the case, that his foster-father +would give him many words, counselling him to refrain from going to the +wood, and this was loathsome to him; but he spake and said: + +‘Meseems, father, that the eastern sky is brightening toward dawn.’ + +‘Yea,’ quoth Stone-face. + +‘It will be light in an hour,’ said Face-of-god. + +‘Even so,’ said Stone-face. + +‘And a fair day for the morrow of Yule,’ said the swain. + +‘Yea,’ said Stone-face, ‘and what wilt thou do with the fair day? Wilt +thou to the wood?’ + +‘Maybe, father,’ said Gold-mane; ‘Hall-face and some of the swains are +talking of elks up the fells which may be trapped in the drifts, and if +they go a-hunting them, I may go in their company.’ + +‘Ah, son,’ quoth Stone-face, ‘thou wilt look to see other kind of beasts +than elks. Things may ye fall in with there who may not be impounded in +the snow like to elks, but can go light-foot on the top of the soft drift +from one place to another.’ + +Said Gold-mane: ‘Father, fear me not; I shall either refrain me from the +wood, or if I go, I shall go to hunt the wood-deer with other hunters. +But since thou hast come to me, tell me more about the wood, for thy +tales thereof are fair.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Stone-face, ‘fair tales of foul things, as oft it befalleth +in the world. Hearken now! if thou deemest that what thou seekest shall +come readier to thine hand because of the winter and the snow, thou +errest. For the wights that waylay the bodies and souls of the mighty in +the wild-wood heed such matters nothing; yea and at Yule-tide are they +most abroad, and most armed for the fray. Even such an one have I seen +time agone, when the snow was deep and the wind was rough; and it was in +the likeness of a woman clad in such raiment as the Bride bore last +night, and she trod the snow light-foot in thin raiment where it would +scarce bear the skids of a deft snow-runner. Even so she stood before +me; the icy wind blew her raiment round about her, and drifted the hair +from her garlanded head toward me, and she as fair and fresh as in the +midsummer days. Up the fell she fared, sweetest of all things to look +on, and beckoned on me to follow; on me, the Warrior, the Stout-heart; +and I followed, and between us grief was born; but I it was that fostered +that child and not she. Always when she would be, was she merry and +lovely; and even so is she now, for she is of those that be long-lived. +And I wot that thou hast seen even such an one!’ + +‘Tell me more of thy tales, foster-father,’ said Gold-mane, ‘and fear not +for me!’ + +‘Ah, son,’ he said, ‘mayst thou have no such tales to tell to those that +shall be young when thou art old. Yet hearken! We sat in the hall +together and there was no third; and methought that the birds sang and +the flowers bloomed, and sweet was their savour, though it was midwinter. +A rose-wreath was on her head; grapes were on the board, and fair +unwrinkled summer apples on the day that we feasted together. When was +the feast? sayst thou. Long ago. What was the hall, thou sayest, +wherein ye feasted? I know not if it were on the earth or under it, or +if we rode the clouds that even. But on the morrow what was there but +the stark wood and the drift of the snow, and the iron wind howling +through the branches, and a lonely man, a wanderer rising from the +ground. A wanderer through the wood and up the fell, and up the high +mountain, and up and up to the edges of the ice-river and the green caves +of the ice-hills. A wanderer in spring, in summer, autumn and winter, +with an empty heart and a burning never-satisfied desire; who hath seen +in the uncouth places many an evil unmanly shape, many a foul hag and +changing ugly semblance; who hath suffered hunger and thirst and wounding +and fever, and hath seen many things, but hath never again seen that fair +woman, or that lovely feast-hall. + +‘All praise and honour to the House of the Face, and the bounteous +valiant men thereof! and the like praise and honour to the fair women +whom they wed of the valiant and goodly House of the Steer!’ + +‘Even so say I,’ quoth Gold-mane calmly; ‘but now wend we aback to the +House, for it is morning indeed, and folk will be stirring there.’ + +So they turned from the bridge together; and Stone-face was kind and +fatherly, and was telling his foster-son many wise things concerning the +life of a chieftain, and the giving-out of dooms and the gathering for +battle; to all which talk Face-of-god seemed to hearken gladly, but +indeed hearkened not at all; for verily his eyes were beholding that +snowy waste, and the fair woman upon it; even such an one as Stone-face +had told of. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. THEY FARE TO THE HUNTING OF THE ELK. + + +WHEN they came into the Hall, the hearth-fire had been quickened, and the +sleepers on the floor had been wakened, and all folk were astir. So the +old man sat down by the hearth while Gold-mane busied himself in fetching +wood and water, and in sweeping out the Hall, and other such works of the +early morning. In a little while Hall-face and the other young men and +warriors were afoot duly clad, and the Alderman came from his chamber and +greeted all men kindly. Soon meat was set upon the boards, and men broke +their fast; and day dawned while they were about it, and ere it was all +done the sun rose clear and golden, so that all men knew that the day +would be fair, for the frost seemed hard and enduring. + +Then the eager young men and the hunters, and those who knew the mountain +best drew together about the hearth, and fell to talking of the hunting +of the elk; and there were three there who knew both the woods and also +the fells right up to the ice-rivers better than any other; and these +said that they who were fain of the hunting of the elk would have no +likelier time than that day for a year to come. Short was the rede +betwixt them, for they said they would go to the work at once and make +the most of the short winter daylight. So they went each to his place, +and some outside that House to their fathers’ houses to fetch each man +his gear. Face-of-god for his part went to his shut-bed, and stood by +his chest, and opened it, and drew out of it a fine hauberk of ring-mail +which his father had made for him: for though Face-of-god was a deft +wright, he was not by a long way so deft as his father, who was the +deftest of all men of that time and country; so that the alien merchants +would give him what he would for his hauberks and helms, whenso he would +chaffer with them, which was but seldom. So Face-of-god did on this +hauberk over his kirtle, and over it he cast his foul-weather weed, so +that none might see it: he girt a strong war-sword to his side, cast his +quiver over his shoulder, and took his bow in his hand, although he had +little lust to shoot elks that day, even as Stone-face had said; +therewithal he took his skids, and went forth of the hall to the gate of +the Burg; whereto gathered the whole company of twenty-three, and +Gold-mane the twenty-fourth. And each man there had his skids and his +bow and quiver, and whatso other weapon, as short-sword, or wood-knife, +or axe, seemed good to him. + +So they went out-a-gates, and clomb the stairway in the cliff which led +to the ancient watch-tower: for it was on the lower slopes of the fells +which lay near to the Weltering Water that they looked to find the elks, +and this was the nighest road thereto. When they had gotten to the top +they lost no time, but went their ways nearly due east, making way easily +where there were but scattered trees close to the lip of the sheer +cliffs. + +They went merrily on their skids over the close-lying snow, and were soon +up on the great shoulders of the fells that went up from the bank of the +Weltering Water: at noon they came into a little dale wherein were a few +trees, and there they abided to eat their meat, and were very merry, +making for themselves tables and benches of the drifted snow, and piling +it up to windward as a defence against the wind, which had now arisen, +little but bitter from the south-east; so that some, and they the wisest, +began to look for foul weather: wherefore they tarried the shorter while +in the said dale or hollow. + +But they were scarcely on their way again before the aforesaid south-east +wind began to grow bigger, and at last blew a gale, and brought up with +it a drift of fine snow, through which they yet made their way, but +slowly, till the drift grew so thick that they could not see each other +five paces apart. + +Then perforce they made stay, and gathered together under a bent which by +good luck they happened upon, where they were sheltered from the worst of +the drift. There they abode, till in less than an hour’s space the drift +abated and the wind fell, and in a little while after it was quite clear, +with the sun shining brightly and the young waxing moon white and high up +in the heavens; and the frost was harder than ever. + +This seemed good to them; but now that they could see each other’s faces +they fell to telling over their company, and there was none missing save +Face-of-god. They were somewhat dismayed thereat, but knew not what to +do, and they deemed he might not be far off, either a little behind or a +little ahead; and Hall-face said: + +‘There is no need to make this to-do about my brother; he can take good +care of himself; neither does a warrior of the Face die because of a +little cold and frost and snow-drift. Withal Gold-mane is a wilful man, +and of late days hath been wilful beyond his wont; let us now find the +elks.’ + +So they went on their ways hoping to fall in with him again. No long +story need be made of their hunting, for not very far from where they had +taken shelter they came upon the elks, many of them, impounded in the +drifts, pretty much where the deft hunters looked to find them. There +then was battle between the elks and the men, till the beasts were all +slain and only one man hurt: then they made them sleighs from wood which +they found in the hollows thereby, and they laid the carcasses thereon, +and so turned their faces homeward, dragging their prey with them. But +they met not Face-of-god either there or on the way home; and Hall-face +said: ‘Maybe Gold-mane will lie on the fell to-night; and I would I were +with him; for adventures oft befall such folk when they abide in the +wilds.’ + +Now it was late at night by then they reached Burgstead, so laden as they +were with the dead beasts; but they heeded the night little, for the moon +was well-nigh as bright as day for them. But when they came to the gate +of the Thorp, there were assembled the goodmen and swains to meet them +with torches and wine in their honour. There also was Gold-mane come +back before them, yea for these two hours; and he stood clad in his +holiday raiment and smiled on them. + +Then was there some jeering at him that he was come back empty-handed +from the hunting, and that he was not able to abide the wind and the +drift; but he laughed thereat, for all this was but game and play, since +men knew him for a keen hunter and a stout woodsman; and they had deemed +it a heavy loss of him if he had been cast away, as some feared he had +been: and his brother Hall-face embraced him and kissed him, and said to +him: ‘Now the next time that thou farest to the wood will I be with thee +foot to foot, and never leave thee, and then meseemeth I shall wot of the +tale that hath befallen thee, and belike it shall be no sorry one.’ + +Face-of-god laughed and answered but little, and they all betook them to +the House of the Face and held high feast therein, for as late as the +night was, in honour of this Hunting of the Elk. + +No man cared to question Face-of-god closely as to how or where he had +strayed from the hunt; for he had told his own tale at once as soon as he +came home, to wit, that his right-foot skid-strap had broken, and even +while he stopped to mend it came on that drift and weather; and that he +could not move from that place without losing his way, and that when it +had cleared he knew not whither they had gone because the snow had +covered their slot. So he deemed it not unlike that they had gone back, +and that he might come up with one or two on the way, and that in any +case he wotted well that they could look after themselves; so he turned +back, not going very swiftly. All this seemed like enough, and a little +matter except to jest about, so no man made any question concerning it: +only old Stone-face said to himself: + +‘Now were I fain to have a true tale out of him, but it is little likely +that anything shall come of my much questioning; and it is ill forcing a +young man to tell lies.’ + +So he held his peace, and the feast went on merrily and blithely. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. CONCERNING FACE-OF-GOD AND THE MOUNTAIN. + + +BUT it must be told of Gold-mane that what had befallen him was in this +wise. His skid-strap brake in good sooth, and he stayed to mend it; but +when he had done what was needful, he looked up and saw no man nigh, what +for the drift, and that they had gone on somewhat; so he rose to his +feet, and without more delay, instead of keeping on toward the elk-ground +and the way his face had been set, he turned himself north-and-by-east, +and went his ways swiftly towards that aírt, because he deemed that it +might lead him to the Mountain-hall where he had guested. He abode not +for the storm to clear, but swept off through the thick of it; and indeed +the wind was somewhat at his back, so that he went the swiftlier. But +when the drift was gotten to its very worst, he sheltered himself for a +little in a hollow behind a thorn-bush he stumbled upon. As soon as it +began to abate he went on again, and at last when it was quite clear, and +the sun shone out, he found himself on a long slope of the fells covered +deep with smooth white snow, and at the higher end a great crag rising +bare fifty feet above the snow, and more rocks, but none so great, and +broken ground as he judged (the snow being deep) about it on the hither +side; and on the further, three great pine-trees all bent down and +mingled together by their load of snow. + +Thitherward he made, as a man might, seeing nothing else to note before +him; but he had not made many strides when forth from behind the crag by +the pine-trees came a man; and at first Face-of-god thought it might be +one of his hunting-fellows gone astray, and he hailed him in a loud +voice, but as he looked he saw the sun flash back from a bright helm on +the new-comer’s head; albeit he kept on his way till there was but a +space of two hundred yards between them; when lo! the helm-bearer notched +a shaft to his bent bow and loosed at Face-of-god, and the arrow came +whistling and passed six inches by his right ear. Then Face-of-god +stopped perplexed with his case; for he was on the deep snow in his +skids, with his bow unbent, and he knew not how to bend it speedily. He +was loth to turn his back and flee, and indeed he scarce deemed that it +would help him. Meanwhile of his tarrying the archer loosed again at +him, and this time the shaft flew close to his left ear. Then +Face-of-god thought to cast himself down into the snow, but he was +ashamed; till there came a third shaft which flew over his head amidmost +and close to it. ‘Good shooting on the Mountain!’ muttered he; ‘the next +shaft will be amidst my breast, and who knows whether the Alderman’s +handiwork will keep it out.’ + +So he cried aloud: ‘Thou shootest well, brother; but art thou a foe? If +thou art, I have a sword by my side, and so hast thou; come hither to me, +and let us fight it out friendly if we must needs fight.’ + +A laugh came down the wind to him clear but somewhat shrill, and the +archer came swiftly towards him on his skids with no weapon in his hand +save his bow; so that Face-of-god did not draw his sword, but stood +wondering. + +As they drew nearer he beheld the face of the new-comer, and deemed that +he had seen it before; and soon, for all that it was hooded close by the +ill-weather raiment, he perceived it to be the face of Bow-may, ruddy and +smiling. + +She laughed out loud again, as she stopped herself within three feet of +him, and said: + +‘Yea, friend Yellow-hair, we heard of the elks and looked to see thee +hereabouts, and I knew thee at once when I came out from behind the crag +and saw thee stand bewildered.’ + +Said Gold-mane: ‘Hail to thee, Bow-may! and glad am I to see thee. But +thou liest in saying that thou knewest me; else why didst thou shoot +those three shafts at me? Surely thou art not so quick as that with all +thy friends: these be sharp greetings of you Mountain-folk.’ + +‘Thou lad with the sweet mouth,’ she said, ‘I like to see thee and hear +thee talk, but now must I hasten thy departure; so stand we here no +longer. Let us get down into the wood where we can do off our skids and +sit down, and then will I tell thee the tidings. Come on!’ + +And she caught his hand in hers, and they went speedily down the slopes +toward the great oak-wood, the wind whistling past their ears. + +‘Whither are we going?’ said he. + +Said she: ‘I am to show thee the way back home, which thou wilt not know +surely amidst this snow. Come, no words! thou shalt not have my tale +from me till we are in the wood: so the sooner we are there the sooner +shalt thou be pleased.’ + +So Face-of-god held his peace, and they went on swiftly side by side. +But it was not Bow-may’s wont to be silent for long, so presently she +said: + +‘Thou art good so do as I bid thee; but see thou, sweet playmate, for all +thou art a chieftain’s son, thou wert but feather-brained to ask me why I +shot at thee. I shoot at thee! that were a fine tale to tell her this +even! Or dost thou think that I could shoot at a big man on the snow at +two hundred paces and miss him three times? Unless I aimed to miss.’ + +‘Yea, Bow-may,’ said he, ‘art thou so deft a Bow-may? Thou shalt be in +my company whenso I fare to battle.’ + +‘Indeed,’ she said, ‘therein thou sayest but the bare truth: nowhere else +shall I be, and thou shalt find my bow no worse than a good shield.’ + +He laughed somewhat lightly; but she looked on him soberly and said: +‘Laugh in that fashion on the day of battle, and we shall be well content +with thee!’ + +So on they sped very swiftly, for their way was mostly down hill, so that +they were soon amongst the outskirting trees of the wood, and presently +after reached the edge of the thicket, beyond which the ground was but +thinly covered with snow. + +There they took off their skids, and went into the thick wood and sat +down under a hornbeam tree; and ere Gold-mane could open his mouth to +speak Bow-may began and said: + +‘Well it was that I fell in with thee, Dalesman, else had there been +murders of men to tell of; but ever she ordereth all things wisely, +though unwisely hast thou done to seek to her. Hearken! dost thou think +that thou hast done well that thou hast me here with my tale? Well, +hadst thou busied thyself with the slaying of elks, or with sitting +quietly at home, yet shouldest thou have heard my tale, and thou +shouldest have seen me in Burgstead in a day or two to tell thee +concerning the flitting of the token. And ill it is that I have missed +it, for fain had I been to behold the House of the Face, and to have seen +thee sitting there in thy dignity amidst the kindred of chieftains.’ + +And she sighed therewith. But he said: ‘Hold up thine heart, Bow-may! +On the word of a true man that shall befall thee one day. But come, +playmate, give me thy tale!’ + +‘Yea,’ she said, ‘I must now tell thee in the wild-wood what else I had +told thee in the Hall. Hearken closely, for this is the message: + +‘_Seek not to me again till thou hast the token_; _else assuredly wilt +thou be slain_, _and I shall be sorry for many a day_. _Thereof as now I +may not tell thee more_. _Now as to the token_: _When March is worn two +weeks fail not to go to and fro on the place of the Maiden Ward for an +hour before sunrise every day till thou hear tidings_.’ + +‘Now,’ quoth Bow-may, ‘hast thou hearkened and understood?’ + +‘Yea,’ said he. + +She said: ‘Then tell me the words of my message concerning the token.’ +And he did so word for word. Then she said: + +‘It is well, there is no more to say. Now must I lead thee till thou +knowest the wood; and then mayst thou get on to the smooth snow again, +and so home merrily. Yet, thou grey-eyed fellow, I will have my pay of +thee before I do that last work.’ + +Therewith she turned about to him and took his head between her hands, +and kissed him well favouredly both cheeks and mouth; and she laughed, +albeit the tears stood in her eyes as she said: ‘Now smelleth the wood +sweeter, and summer will come back again. And even thus will I do once +more when we stand side by side in battle array.’ + +He smiled kindly on her and nodded as they both rose up from the earth: +she had taken off her foul-weather gloves while they spake, and he kissed +her hand, which was shapely of fashion albeit somewhat brown, and hard of +palm, and he said in friendly wise: + +‘Thou art a merry faring-fellow, Bow-may, and belike shalt be withal a +true fighting-fellow. Come now, thou shalt be my sister and I thy +brother, in despite of those three shafts across the snow.’ + +He laughed therewith; she laughed not, but seemed glad, and said soberly: + +‘Yea, I may well be thy sister; for belike I also am of the people of the +Gods, who have come into these Dales by many far ways. I am of the House +of the Ragged Sword of the Kindred of the Wolf. Come, brother, let us +toward Wildlake’s Way.’ + +Therewith she went before him and led through the thicket as by an +assured and wonted path, and he followed hard at heel; but his thought +went from her for a while; for those words of brother and sister that he +had spoken called to his mind the Bride, and their kindness of little +children, and the days when they seemed to have nought to do but to make +the sun brighter, and the flowers fairer, and the grass greener, and the +birds happier each for the other; and a hard and evil thing it seemed to +him that now he should be making all these things nought and dreary to +her, now when he had become a man and deeds lay before him. Yet again +was he solaced by what Bow-may had said concerning battle to come; for he +deemed that she must have had this from the Friend’s foreseeing; and he +longed sore for deeds to do, wherein all these things might be cleared up +and washen clean as it were. + +So passed they through the wood a long way, and it was getting dark +therein, and Gold-mane said: + +‘Hold now, Bow-may, for I am at home here.’ + +She looked around and said: ‘Yea, so it is: I was thinking of many +things. Farewell and live merrily till March comes and the token!’ + +Therewith she turned and went her ways and was soon out of sight, and he +went lightly through the wood, and then on skids over the hard snow along +the Dale’s edge till he was come to the watch-tower, when the moon was +bright in heaven. + +Thus was he at Burgstead and the House of the Face betimes, and before +the hunters were gotten back. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. MURDER AMONGST THE FOLK OF THE WOODLANDERS. + + +SO wore away midwinter tidingless. Stone-face spake no more to +Face-of-god about the wood and its wights, when he saw that the young man +had come back hale and merry, seemed not to crave over-much to go back +thither. As for the Bride, she was sad, and more than misdoubted all; +but dauntless as she was in matters that try men’s hardihood, she yet +lacked heart to ask of Face-of-god what had befallen him since the +autumn-tide, or where he was with her. So she put a force upon herself +not to look sad or craving when she was in his company, as full oft she +was; for he rather sought her than shunned her. For when he saw her +thus, he deemed things were changing with her as they had changed with +him, and he bethought him of what he had spoken to Bow-may, and deemed +that even so he might speak with the Bride when the time came, and that +she would not be grieved beyond measure, and all would be well. + +Now came on the thaw, and the snow went, and the grass grew all up and +down the Dale, and all waters were big. And about this time arose +rumours of strange men in the wood, uncouth, vile, and murderous, and +many of the feebler sort were made timorous thereby. + +But a little before March was born came new tidings from the Woodlanders; +to wit: There came on a time to the house of a woodland carle, a worthy +goodman well renowned of all, two wayfarers in the first watch of the +night; and these men said that they were wending down to the Plain from a +far-away dale, Rose-dale to wit, which all men had heard of, and that +they had strayed from the way and were exceeding weary, and they craved a +meal’s meat and lodging for the night. + +This the goodman might nowise gainsay, and he saw no harm in it, +wherefore he bade them abide and be merry. + +These men, said they who told the tidings, were outlanders, and no man +had seen any like them before: they were armed, and bore short bows made +of horn, and round targets, and coats-of-fence done over with horn +scales; they had crooked swords girt to their sides, and axes of steel +forged all in one piece, right good weapons. They were clad in scarlet +and had much silver on their raiment and about their weapons, and great +rings of the same on their arms; and all this silver seemed brand-new. + +Now the Woodland Carle gave them of such things as he had, and was kind +and blithe to them: there were in his house besides himself five men of +his sons and kindred, and his wife and three daughters and two other +maids. So they feasted after the Woodlanders’ fashion, and went to bed a +little before midnight. Two hours after, the carle awoke and heard a +little stir, and he looked and saw the guests on their feet amidst the +hall clad in all their war-gear; and they had betwixt them his two +youngest daughters, maids of fifteen and twelve winters, and had bound +their hands and done clouts over their mouths, so that they might not cry +out; and they were just at point to carry them off. Thereat the goodman, +naked as he was, caught up his sword and made at these murder-carles, and +or ever they were ware of him he had hewn down one and turned to face the +other, who smote at him with his steel axe and gave him a great wound on +the shoulder, and therewithal fled out at the open door and forth into +the wood. + +The Woodlander made no stay to raise the cry (there was no need, for the +hall was astir now from end to end, and men getting to their weapons), +but ran out after the felon even as he was; and, in spite of his grievous +hurt, overran him no long way from the house before he had gotten into +the thicket. But the man was nimble and strong, and the goodman unsteady +from his wound, and by then the others of the household came up with the +hue and cry he had gotten two more sore wounds and was just making an end +of throttling the felon with his bare hands. So he fell into their arms +fainting from weakness, and for all they could do he died in two hours’ +time from that axe-wound in his shoulder, and another on the side of the +head, and a knife-thrust in his side; and he was a man of sixty winters. + +But the stranger he had slain outright; and the one whom he had smitten +in the hall died before the dawn, thrusting all help aside, and making no +sound of speech. + +When these tidings came to Burgstead they seemed great to men, and to +Gold-mane more than all. So he and many others took their weapons and +fared up to Wildlake’s Way, and so came to the Woodland Carles. But the +Woodlanders had borne out the carcasses of those felons and laid them on +the green before Wood-grey’s door (for that was the name of the dead +goodman), and they were saying that they would not bury such accursed +folk, but would bear them a little way so that they should not be vexed +with the stink of them, and cast them into the thicket for the wolf and +the wild-cat and the stoat to deal with; and they should lie there, +weapons and silver and all; and they deemed it base to strip such +wretches, for who would wear their raiment or bear their weapons after +them. + +There was a great ring of folk round about them when they of Burgstead +drew near, and they shouted for joy to see their neighbours, and made way +before them. Then the Dalesmen cursed these murderers who had slain so +good a man, and they all praised his manliness, whereas he ran out into +the night naked and wounded after his foe, and had fallen like his folk +of old time. + +It was a bright spring afternoon in that clearing of the Wood, and they +looked at the two dead men closely; and Gold-mane, who had been somewhat +silent and moody till then, became merry and wordy; for he beheld the men +and saw that they were utterly strange to him: they were short of +stature, crooked-legged, long-armed, very strong for their size: with +small blue eyes, snubbed-nosed, wide-mouthed, thin-lipped, very swarthy +of skin, exceeding foul of favour. He and all others wondered who they +were, and whence they came, for never had they seen their like; and the +Woodlanders, who often guested outlanders strayed from the way of divers +kindreds and nations, said also that none such had they ever seen. But +Stone-face, who stood by Gold-mane, shook his head and quoth he: + +‘The Wild-wood holdeth many marvels, and these be of them: the spawn of +evil wights quickeneth therein, and at other whiles it melteth away again +like the snow; so may it be with these carcasses.’ + +And some of the older folk of the Woodlanders who stood by hearkened what +he said, and deemed his words wise, for they remembered their ancient +lore and many a tale of old time. + +Thereafter they of Burgstead went into Wood-grey’s hall, or as many of +them as might, for it was but a poor place and not right great. There +they saw the goodman laid on the daïs in all his war-gear, under the last +tie-beam of his hall, whereon was carved amidst much goodly work of knots +and flowers and twining stems the image of the Wolf of the Waste, his +jaws open and gaping: the wife and daughters of the goodman and other +women of the folk stood about the bier singing some old song in a low +voice, and some sobbing therewithal, for the man was much beloved: and +much people of the Woodlanders was in the hall, and it was somewhat dusk +within. + +So the Burgstead men greeted that folk kindly and humbly, and again they +fell to praising the dead man, saying how his deed should long be +remembered in the Dale and wide about; and they called him a fearless man +and of great worth. And the women hearkened, and ceased their crooning +and their sobbing, and stood up proudly and raised their heads with +gleaming eyes; and as the words of the Burgstead men ended, they lifted +up their voices and sang loudly and clearly, standing together in a row, +ten of them, on the daïs of that poor hall, facing the gable and the +wolf-adorned tie-beam, heeding nought as they sang what was about or +behind them. + +And this is some of what they sang: + + Why sit ye bare in the spinning-room? + Why weave ye naked at the loom? + + Bare and white as the moon we be, + That the Earth and the drifting night may see. + + Now what is the worst of all your work? + What curse amidst the web shall lurk? + + The worst of the work our hands shall win + Is wrack and ruin round the kin. + + Shall the woollen yarn and the flaxen thread + Be gear for living men or dead? + + The woollen yarn and the flaxen thread + Shall flare ’twixt living men and dead. + + O what is the ending of your day? + When shall ye rise and wend away? + + Our day shall end to-morrow morn, + When we hear the voice of the battle-horn. + + Where first shall eyes of men behold + This weaving of the moonlight cold? + + There where the alien host abides + The gathering on the Mountain-sides. + + How long aloft shall the fair web fly + When the bows are bent and the spears draw nigh? + + From eve to morn and morn till eve + Aloft shall fly the work we weave. + + What then is this, the web ye win? + What wood-beast waxeth stark therein? + + We weave the Wolf and the gift of war + From the men that were to the men that are. + +So sang they: and much were all men moved at their singing, and there was +none but called to mind the old days of the Fathers, and the years when +their banner went wide in the world. + +But the Woodlanders feasted them of Burgstead what they might, and then +went the Dalesmen back to their houses; but on the morrow’s morrow they +fared thither again, and Wood-grey was laid in mound amidst a great +assemblage of the Folk. + +Many men said that there was no doubt that those two felons were of the +company of those who had ransacked the steads of Penny-thumb and +Harts-bane; and so at first deemed Bristler the son of Brightling: but +after a while, when he had had time to think of it, he changed his mind; +for he said that such men as these would have slain first and ransacked +afterwards: and some who loved neither Penny-thumb nor Harts-bane said +that they would not have been at the pains to choose for ransacking the +two worst men about the Dale, whose loss was no loss to any but +themselves. + +As for Gold-mane he knew not what to think, except that his friends of +the Mountain had had nought to do with it. + +So wore the days awhile. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. THE BRIDE SPEAKETH WITH FACE-OF-GOD. + + +FEBRUARY had died into March, and March was now twelve days old, on a +fair and sunny day an hour before noon; and Face-of-god was in a meadow a +scant mile down the Dale from Burgstead. He had been driving a bull into +a goodman’s byre nearby, and had had to spend toil and patience both in +getting him out of the fields and into the byre; for the beast was hot +with the spring days and the new grass. So now he was resting himself in +happy mood in an exceeding pleasant place, a little meadow to wit, on one +side whereof was a great orchard or grove of sweet chestnuts, which went +right up to the feet of the Southern Cliffs: across the meadow ran a +clear brook towards the Weltering Water, free from big stones, in some +places dammed up for the flooding of the deep pasture-meadow, and with +the grass growing on its lips down to the very water. There was a low +bank just outside the chestnut trees, as if someone had raised a dyke +about them when they were young, which had been trodden low and spreading +through the lapse of years by the faring of many men and beasts. The +primroses bloomed thick upon it now, and here and there along it was a +low blackthorn bush in full blossom; from the mid-meadow and right down +to the lip of the brook was the grass well nigh hidden by the blossoms of +the meadow-saffron, with daffodils sprinkled about amongst them, and in +the trees and bushes the birds, and chiefly the blackbirds, were singing +their loudest. + +There sat Face-of-god on the bank resting after his toil, and happy was +his mood; since in two days’ wearing he should be pacing the Maiden Ward +awaiting the token that was to lead him to Shadowy Vale; so he sat +calling to mind the Friend as he had last seen her, and striving as it +were to set her image standing on the flowery grass before him, till all +the beauty of the meadow seemed bare and empty to him without her. Then +it fell into his mind that this had been a beloved trysting-place betwixt +him and the Bride, and that often when they were little would they come +to gather chestnuts in the grove, and thereafter sit and prattle on the +old dyke; or in spring when the season was warm would they go barefoot +into the brook, seeking its treasures of troutlets and flowers and +clean-washed agate pebbles. Yea, and time not long ago had they met here +to talk as lovers, and sat on that very bank in all the kindness of good +days without a blemish, and both he and she had loved the place well for +its wealth of blossoms and deep grass and goodly trees and clear running +stream. + +As he thought of all this, and how often there he had praised to himself +her beauty, which he scarce dared praise to her, he frowned and slowly +rose to his feet, and turned toward the chestnut-grove, as though he +would go thence that way; but or ever he stepped down from the dyke he +turned about again, and even therewith, like the very image and ghost of +his thought, lo! the Bride herself coming up from out the brook and +wending toward him, her wet naked feet gleaming in the sun as they trod +down the tender meadow-saffron and brushed past the tufts of daffodils. +He stood staring at her discomforted, for on that day he had much to +think of that seemed happy to him, and he deemed that she would now +question him, and his mind pondered divers ways of answering her, and +none seemed good to him. She drew near and let her skirts fall over her +feet, and came to him, her gown hem dragging over the flowers: then she +stood straight up before him and greeted him, but reached not forth her +hand to him nor touched him. Her face was paler that its wont, and her +voice trembled as she spake to him and said: + +‘Face-of-god, I would ask thee a gift.’ + +‘All gifts,’ he said, ‘that thou mayest ask, and I may give, lie open to +thee.’ + +She said: ‘If I be alive when the time comes this gift thou mayst well +give me.’ + +‘Sweet kinswoman,’ said he, ‘tell me what it is that thou wouldest have +of me.’ And he was ill-at-ease as he waited for her answer. + +She said: ‘Ah, kinsman, kinsman! Woe on the day that maketh kinship +accursed to me because thou desirest it!’ + +He held his peace and was exceeding sorry; and she said: + +‘This is the gift that I ask of thee, that in the days to come when thou +art wedded, thou wilt give me the second man-child whom thou begettest.’ + +He said: ‘This shalt thou have, and would that I might give thee much +more. Would that we were little children together other again, as when +we played here in other days.’ + +She said: ‘I would have a token of thee that thou shalt show to the God, +and swear on it to give me the gift. For the times change.’ + +‘What token wilt thou have?’ said he. + +She said: ‘When next thou farest to the Wood, thou shalt bring me back, +it maybe a flower from the bank ye sit upon, or a splinter from the daïs +of the hall wherein ye feast, or maybe a ring or some matter that the +strangers are wont to wear. That shall be the token.’ + +She spoke slowly, hanging her head adown, but she lifted it presently and +looked into his face and said: + +‘Woe’s me, woe’s me, Gold-mane! How evil is this day, when bewailing me +I may not bewail thee also! For I know that thine heart is glad. All +through the winter have I kept this hidden in my heart, and durst not +speak to thee. But now the spring-tide hath driven me to it. Let summer +come, and who shall say?’ + +Great was his grief, and his shame kept him silent, and he had no word to +say; and again she said: + +‘Tell me, Gold-mane, when goest thou thither?’ + +He said: ‘I know not surely, may happen in two days, may happen in ten. +Why askest thou?’ + +‘O friend!’ she said, ‘is it a new thing that I should ask thee whither +thou goest and whence thou comest, and the times of thy coming and going. +Farewell to-day! Forget not the token. Woe’s me, that I may not kiss +thy fair face!’ + +She spread her arms abroad and lifted up her face as one who waileth, but +no sound came from her lips; then she turned about and went away as she +had come. + +But as for him he stood there after she was gone in all confusion, as if +he were undone: for he felt his manhood lessened that he should thus and +so sorely have hurt a friend, and in a manner against his will. And yet +he was somewhat wroth with her, that she had come upon him so suddenly, +and spoken to him with such mastery, and in so few words, and he with +none to make answer to her, and that she had so marred his pleasure and +his hope of that fair day. Then he sat him down again on the flowery +bank, and little by little his heart softened, and he once more called to +mind many a time when they had been there before, and the plays and the +games they had had together there when they were little. And he +bethought him of the days that were long to him then, and now seemed +short to him, and as if they were all grown together into one story, and +that a sweet one. Then his breast heaved with a sob, and the tears rose +to his eyes and burned and stung him, and he fell a-weeping for that +sweet tale, and wept as he had wept once before on that old dyke when +there had been some child’s quarrel between them, and she had gone away +and left him. + +Then after a while he ceased his weeping, and looked about him lest +anyone might be coming, and then he arose and went to and fro in the +chestnut-grove for a good while, and afterwards went his ways from that +meadow, saying to himself: ‘Yet remaineth to me the morrow of to-morrow, +and that is the first of the days of the watching for the token.’ + +But all that day he was slow to meet the eyes of men; and in the hall +that eve he was silent and moody; for from time to time it came over him +that some of his manhood had departed from him. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. THE TOKEN COMETH FROM THE MOUNTAIN. + + +THE next day wore away tidingless; and the day after Face-of-god arose +betimes; for it was the first day of his watch, and he was at the Maiden +Ward before the time appointed on a very fair and bright morning, and he +went to and fro on that place, and had no tidings. So he came away +somewhat cast down, and said within himself: ‘Is it but a lie and a +mocking when all is said?’ + +On the morrow he went thither again, and the morn was wild and stormy +with drift of rain, and low clouds hurrying over the earth, though for +the sunrise they lifted a little in the east, and the sun came up over +the passes, amidst the red and angry rack of clouds. This morn also gave +him no tidings of the token, and he was wroth and perturbed in spirit: +but towards evening he said: + +‘It is well: ten days she gave me, so that she might be able to send +without fail on one of them; she will not fail me.’ + +So again on the morrow he was there betimes, and the morn was windy as on +the day before, but the clouds higher and of better promise for the day. +Face-of-god walked to and fro on the Maiden Ward, and as he turned toward +Burgstead for the tenth time, he heard, as he deemed, a bow-string twang +afar off, and even therewith came a shaft flying heavily like a winged +bird, which smote a great standing stone on the other side of the way, +where of old some chieftain had been buried, and fell to earth at its +foot. He went up to it and handled it, and saw that there was a piece of +thin parchment wrapped about it, which indeed he was eager to unwrap at +once, but forebore; because he was on the highway, and people were +already astir, and even then passed by him a goodman of the Dale with a +man of his going afield together, and they gave him the sele of the day. +So he went along the highway a little till he came to a place where was a +footbridge over into the meadow. He crossed thereby and went swiftly +till he reached a rising ground grown over with hazel-trees; there he sat +down among the rabbit-holes, the primrose and wild-garlic blooming about +him, and three blackbirds answering one another from the edges of the +coppice. Straightway when he had looked and seen none coming he broke +the threads that were wound about the scroll and the arrow, and unrolled +the parchment; and there was writing thereon in black ink of small +letters, but very fair, and this is what he read therein: + + _Come thou to the Mountain Hall by the path which thou knowest of_, + _on the morrow of the day whereon thou readest this_. _Rise betimes + and come armed_, _for there are other men than we in the wood_; _to + whom thy death should be a gain_. _When thou art come to the Hall_, + _thou shalt find no man therein_; _but a great hound only_, _tied to + a bench nigh the daïs_. _Call him by his name_, _Sure-foot to wit_, + _and give him to eat from the meat upon the board_, _and give him + water __to drink_. _If the day is then far spent_, _as it is like to + be_, _abide thou with the hound in the hall through the night_, _and + eat of what thou shalt find there_; _but see that the hound fares not + abroad till the morrow’s morn_: _then lead him out and bring him to + the north-east corner of the Hall_, _and he shall lift the slot for + thee that leadeth to the Shadowy Yale_. _Follow him and all good go + with thee_. + +Now when he had read this, earth seemed fair indeed about him, and he +scarce knew whither to turn or what to do to make the most of his joy. +He presently went back to Burgstead and into the House of the Face, where +all men were astir now, and the day was clearing. He hid the shaft under +his kirtle, for he would not that any should see it; so he went to his +shut-bed and laid it up in his chest, wherein he kept his chiefest +treasures; but the writing on the scroll he set in his bosom and so hid +it. He went joyfully and proudly, as one who knoweth more tidings and +better than those around him. But Stone-face beheld him, and said +‘Foster-son, thou art happy. Is it that the spring-tide is in thy blood, +and maketh thee blithe with all things, or hast thou some new tidings? +Nay, I would not have an answer out of thee; but here is good rede: when +next thou goest into the wood, it were nought so ill for thee to have a +valiant old carle by thy side; one that loveth thee, and would die for +thee if need were; one who might watch when thou wert seeking. Or else +beware! for there are evil things abroad in the Wood, and moreover the +brethren of those two felons who were slain at Carlstead.’ + +Then Gold-mane constrained himself to answer the old carle softly; and he +thanked him kindly for his offer, and said that so it should be before +long. So the talk between them fell, and Stone-face went away somewhat +well-pleased. + +And now was Face-of-god become wary; and he would not draw men’s eyes and +speech on him; so he went afield with Hall-face to deal with the lambs +and the ewes, and did like other men. No less wary was he in the hall +that even, and neither spake much nor little; and when his father spake +to him concerning the Bride, and made game of him as a somewhat sluggish +groom, he did not change countenance, but answered lightly what came to +hand. + +On the morrow ere the earliest dawn he was afoot, and he clad himself and +did on his hauberk, his father’s work, which was fine-wrought and a stout +defence, and reached down to his knees; and over that he did on a goodly +green kirtle well embroidered: he girt his war-sword to his side, and it +was the work of his father’s father, and a very good sword: its name was +Dale-warden. He did a good helm on his head, and slung a targe at his +back, and took two spears in his hand, short but strong-shafted and +well-steeled. Thus arrayed he left Burgstead before the dawn, and came +to Wildlake’s Way and betook him to the Woodland. He made no stop or +stay on the path, but ate his meat standing by an oak-tree close by the +half-blind track. When he came to the little wood-lawn, where was the +toft of the ancient house, he looked all round about him, for he deemed +that a likely place for those ugly wood-wights to set on him; but nought +befell him, though he stooped and drank of the woodland rill warily +enough. So he passed on; and there were other places also where he fared +warily, because they seemed like to hold lurking felons; though forsooth +the whole wood might well serve their turn. But no evil befell him, and +at last, when it yet lacked an hour to sunset, he came to the wood-lawn +where Wild-wearer had made his onset that other eve. + +He went straight up to the house, his heart beating, and he scarce +believing but that he should find the Friend abiding him there: but when +he pushed the door it gave way before him at once, and he entered and +found no man therein, and the walls stripped bare and no shield or weapon +hanging on the panels. But the hound he saw tied to a bench nigh the +daïs, and the bristles on the beast’s neck arose, and he snarled on +Face-of-god, and strained on his leathern leash. Then Face-of-god went +up to him and called him by his name, Sure-foot, and gave him his hand to +lick, and he brought him water, and fed him with flesh from the meat on +the board; so the beast became friendly and wagged his tail and whined +and slobbered his hand. + +Then he went all about the house, and saw and heard no living thing +therein save the mice in the panels and Sure-foot. So he came back to +the daïs, and sat him down at the board and ate his fill, and thought +concerning his case. And it came into his mind that the Woman of the +Mountain had some deed for him to do which would try his manliness and +exalt his fame; and his heart rose high and he was glad, and he saw +himself sitting beside her on the daïs of a very fair hall beloved and +honoured of all the folk, and none had aught to say against him or owed +him any grudge. Thus he pleased himself in thinking of the good days to +come, sitting there till the hall grew dusk and dark and the night-wind +moaned about it. + +Then after a while he arose and raked together the brands on the hearth, +and made light in the hall and looked to the door. And he found there +were bolts and bars thereto, so he shot the bolts and drew the bars into +their places and made all as sure as might be. Then he brought Sure-foot +down from the daïs, and tied him up so that he might lie down athwart the +door, and then lay down his hauberk with his naked sword ready to his +hand, and slept long while. + +When he awoke it was darker than when he had lain him for the moon had +set; yet he deemed that the day was at point of breaking. So he fetched +water and washed the night off him, and saw a little glimmer of the dawn. +Then he ate somewhat of the meat on the board, and did on his helm and +his other gear, and unbarred the door, and led Sure-foot without, and +brought him to the north-east corner of the house, and in a little while +he lifted the slot and they departed, the man and the hound, just as +broke dawn from over the mountains. + +Sure-foot led right into the heart of the pine-wood, and it was dark +enough therein, with nought but a feeble glimmer for some while, and long +was the way therethrough; but in two hours’ space was there something of +a break, and they came to the shore of a dark deep tarn on whose windless +and green waters the daylight shone fully. The hound skirted the water, +and led on unchecked till the trees began to grow smaller and the air +colder for all that the sun was higher; for they had been going up and up +all the way. + +So at last after a six hours’ journey they came clean out of the +pine-wood, and before them lay the black wilderness of the bare +mountains, and beyond them, looking quite near now, the great ice-peaks, +the wall of the world. It was but an hour short of noon by this time, +and the high sun shone down on a barren boggy moss which lay betwixt them +and the rocky waste. Sure-foot made no stay, but threaded the ways that +went betwixt the quagmires, and in another hour led Face-of-god into a +winding valley blinded by great rocks, and everywhere stony and rough, +with a trickle of water running amidst of it. The hound fared on up the +dale to where the water was bridged by a great fallen stone, and so over +it and up a steep bent on the further side, on to a marvellously rough +mountain-neck, whiles mere black sand cumbered with scattered rocks and +stones, whiles beset with mires grown over with the cottony mire-grass; +here and there a little scanty grass growing; otherwhere nought but dwarf +willow ever dying ever growing, mingled with moss or red-blossomed +sengreen; and all blending together into mere desolation. + +Few living things they saw there; up on the neck a few sheep were grazing +the scanty grass, but there was none to tend them; yet Face-of-god deemed +the sight of them good, for there must be men anigh who owned them. For +the rest, the whimbrel laughed across the mires; high up in heaven a +great eagle was hanging; once and again a grey fox leapt up before them, +and the heath-fowl whirred up from under Face-of-god’s feet. A raven who +was sitting croaking on a rock in that first dale stirred uneasily on his +perch as he saw them, and when they were passed flapped his wings and +flew after them croaking still. + +Now they fared over that neck somewhat east, making but slow way because +the ground was so broken and rocky; and in another hour’s space Sure-foot +led down-hill due east to where the stony neck sank into another desolate +miry heath still falling toward the east, but whose further side was +walled by a rampart of crags cleft at their tops into marvellous-shapes, +coal-black, ungrassed and unmossed. Thitherward the hound led straight, +and Gold-mane followed wondering: as he drew near them he saw that they +were not very high, the tallest peak scant fifty feet from the face of +the heath. + +They made their way through the scattered rocks at the foot of these +crags, till, just where the rock-wall seemed the closest, the way through +the stones turned into a path going through it skew-wise; and it was now +so clear a path that belike it had been bettered by men’s hands. Down +thereby Face-of-god followed the hound, deeming that he was come to the +gates of the Shadowy Vale, and the path went down steeply and swiftly. +But when he had gone down a while, the rocks on his right hand sank lower +for a space, so that he could look over and see what lay beneath. + +There lay below him a long narrow vale quite plain at the bottom, walled +on the further side as on the hither by sheer rocks of black stone. The +plain was grown over with grass, but he could see no tree therein: a deep +river, dark and green, ran through the vale, sometimes through its +midmost, sometimes lapping the further rock-wall: and he thought indeed +that on many a day in the year the sun would never shine on that valley. + +Thus much he saw, and then the rocks rose again and shut it from his +sight; and at last they drew so close together over head that he was in a +way going through a cave with little daylight coming from above, and in +the end he was in a cave indeed and mere darkness: but with the last +feeble glimmer of light he thought he saw carved on a smooth space of the +living rock at his left hand the image of a wolf. + +This cave lasted but a little way, and soon the hound and the man were +going once more between sheer black rocks, and the path grew steeper yet +and was cut into steps. At last there was a sharp turn, and they stood +on the top of a long stony scree, down which Sure-foot bounded eagerly, +giving tongue as he went; but Face-of-god stood still and looked, for now +the whole Dale lay open before him. + +That river ran from north to south, and at the south end the cliffs drew +so close to it that looking thence no outgate could be seen; but at the +north end there was as it were a dreary street of rocks, the river +flowing amidmost and leaving little foothold on either side, somewhat as +it was with the pass leading from the mountains into Burgdale. + +Amidmost of the Dale a little toward the north end he saw a doom-ring of +black stones, and hard by it an ancient hall builded of the same black +stone both wall and roof, and thitherward was Sure-foot now running. +Face-of-god looked up and down the Dale and could see no break in the +wall of sheer rock: toward the southern end he saw a few booths and cots +built roughly of stone and thatched with turf; thereabout he saw a few +folk moving about, the most of whom seemed to be women and children; +there were some sheep and lambs near these cots, and a herd of fifty or +so of somewhat goodly mountain-kine were feeding higher up the valley. +He could look down into the river from where he stood, and he saw that it +ran between rocky banks going straight down from the face of the meadow, +which was rather high above the water, so that it seemed little likely +that the water should rise over its banks, either in summer or winter; +and in summer was it like to be highest, because the vale was so near to +the high mountains and their snows. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. FACE-OF-GOD TALKETH WITH THE FRIEND IN SHADOWY VALE. + + +IT was now about two hours after noon, and a broad band of sunlight lay +upon the grass of the vale below Gold-mane’s feet; he went lightly down +the scree, and strode forward over the level grass toward the Doom-ring, +his helm and war-gear glittering bright in the sun. He must needs go +through the Doom-ring to come to the Hall, and as he stepped out from +behind the last of the big upright-stones, he saw a woman standing on the +threshold of the Hall-door, which was but some score of paces from him, +and knew her at once for the Friend. + +She was clad like himself in a green kirtle gaily embroidered and fitting +close to her body, and had no gown or cloak over it; she had a golden +fillet on her head beset with blue mountain stones, and her hair hung +loose behind her. + +Her beauty was so exceeding, and so far beyond all memory of her that his +mind had held, that once more fear of her fell upon Face-of-god, and he +stood still with beating heart till she should speak to him. But she +came forward swiftly with both her hands held out, smiling and +happy-faced, and looking very kindly on him, and she took his hands and +said to him: + +‘Now welcome, Gold-mane, welcome, Face-of-god! and twice welcome art thou +and threefold. Lo! this is the day that thou asked for: art thou happy +in it?’ + +He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them timorously, but said +nought; and therewithal Sure-foot came running forth from the Hall, and +fell to bounding round about them, barking noisily after the manner of +dogs who have met their masters again; and still she held his hands and +beheld him kindly. Then she called the hound to her, and patted him on +the neck and quieted him, and then turned to Face-of-god and laughed +happily and said: + +‘I do not bid thee hold thy peace; yet thou sayest nought. Is well with +thee?’ + +‘Yea,’ he said, ‘and more than well.’ + +‘Thou seemest to me a goodly warrior,’ she said; ‘hast thou met any +foemen yesterday or this morning?’ + +‘Nay,’ said he, ‘none hindered me; thou hast made the ways easy to me.’ + +She said soberly, ‘Such as I might do, I did. But we may not wield +everything, for our foes are many, and I feared for thee. But come thou +into our house, which is ours, and far more ours than the booth before +the pine-wood.’ + +She took his hand again and led him toward the door, but Face-of-god +looked up, and above the lintel he saw carved on the dark stone that +image of the Wolf, even as he had seen it carved on Wood-grey’s tie-beam; +and therewith such thoughts came into his mind that he stopped to look, +pressing the Friend’s hand hard as though bidding her note it. The stone +wherein the image was carved was darker than the other building stones, +and might be called black; the jaws of the wood-beast were open and +gaping, and had been painted with cinnabar, but wind and weather had worn +away the most of the colour. + +Spake the Friend: ‘So it is: thou beholdest the token of the God and +Father of out Fathers, that telleth the tale of so many days, that the +days which now pass by us be to them but as the drop in the sea of +waters. Thou beholdest the sign of our sorrow, the memory of our wrong; +yet is it also the token of our hope. Maybe it shall lead thee far.’ + +‘Whither?’ said he. But she answered not a great while, and he looked at +her as she stood a-gazing on the image, and saw how the tears stole out +of her eyes and ran adown her cheeks. Then again came the thought to him +of Wood-grey’s hall, and the women of the kindred standing before the +Wolf and singing of him; and though there was little comeliness in them +and she was so exceeding beauteous, he could not but deem that they were +akin to her. + +But after a while she wiped the tears from her face and turned to him and +said: ‘My friend, the Wolf shall lead thee no-whither but where I also +shall be, whatsoever peril or grief may beset the road or lurk at the +ending thereof. Thou shalt be no thrall, to labour while I look on.’ + +His heart swelled within him as she spoke, and he was at point to beseech +her love that moment; but now her face had grown gay and bright again, +and she said while he was gathering words to speak withal: + +‘Come in, Gold-mane, come into our house; for I have many things to say +to thee. And moreover thou art so hushed, and so fearsome in thy mail, +that I think thou yet deemest me to be a Wight of the Waste, such as +Stone-face thy Fosterer told thee tales of, and forewarned thee. So +would I eat before thee, and sign the meat with the sign of the +Earth-god’s Hammer, to show thee that he is in error concerning me, and +that I am a very woman flesh and fell, as my kindred were before me.’ + +He laughed and was exceeding glad, and said: ‘Tell me now, kind friend, +dost thou deem that Stone-face’s tales are mere mockery of his dreams, +and that he is beguiled by empty semblances or less? Or are there such +Wights in the Waste.’ + +‘Nay,’ she said, ‘the man is a true man; and of these things are there +many ancient tales which we may not doubt. Yet so it is that such wights +have I never yet seen, nor aught to scare me save evil men: belike it is +that I have been over-much busied in dealing with sorrow and ruin to look +after them: or it may be that they feared me and the wrath-breeding grief +of the kindred.’ + +He looked at her earnestly, and the wisdom of her heart seemed to enter +into his; but she said: ‘It is of men we must talk, and of me and thee. +Come with me, my friend.’ + +And she stepped lightly over the threshold and drew him in. The Hall was +stern and grim and somewhat dusky, for its windows were but small: it was +all of stone, both walls and roof. There was no timber-work therein save +the benches and chairs, a little about the doors at the lower end that +led to the buttery and out-bowers; and this seemed to have been wrought +of late years; yea, the chairs against the gable on the daïs were of +stone built into the wall, adorned with carving somewhat sparingly, the +image of the Wolf being done over the midmost of them. He looked up and +down the Hall, and deemed it some seventy feet over all from end to end; +and he could see in the dimness those same goodly hangings on the wall +which he had seen in the woodland booth. + +She led him up to the daïs, and stood there leaning up against the arm of +one of those stone seats silent for a while; then she turned and looked +at him, and said: + +‘Yea, thou lookest a goodly warrior; yet am I glad that thou camest +hither without battle. Tell me, Gold-mane,’ she said, taking one of his +spears from his hand, ‘art thou deft with the spear?’ + +‘I have been called so,’ said he. + +She looked at him sweetly and said: ‘Canst thou show me the feat of +spear-throwing in this Hall, or shall we wend outside presently that I +may see thee throw?’ + +‘The Hall sufficeth,’ he said. ‘Shall I set this steel in the lintel of +the buttery door yonder?’ + +‘Yea, if thou canst,’ she said. + +He smiled and took the spear from her, and poised it and shook it till it +quivered again, then suddenly drew back his arm and cast, and the shaft +sped whistling down the dim hall, and smote the aforesaid door-lintel and +stuck there quivering: then he sprang down from the daïs, and ran down +the hall, and put forth his hand and pulled it forth from the wood, and +was on the daïs again in a trice, and cast again, and the second time set +the spear in the same place, and then took his other spear from the board +and cast it, and there stood the two staves in the wood side by side; +then he went soberly down the hall and drew them both out of the wood and +came back to her, while she stood watching him, her cheek flushed, her +lips a little parted. + +She said: ‘Good spear-casting, forsooth! and far above what our folk can +do, who be no great throwers of the spear.’ + +Gold-mane laughed: ‘Sooth is that,’ said he, ‘or hardly were I here to +teach thee spear-throwing.’ + +‘Wilt thou _never_ be paid for that simple onslaught?’ she said. + +‘Have I been paid then?’ said he. + +She reddened, for she remembered her word to him on the mountain; and he +put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek, but timorously; nor +did she withstand him or shrink aback, but said soberly: + +‘Good indeed is thy spear-throwing, and meseems my brother will love thee +when he hath seen thee strike a stroke or two in wrath. But, fair +warrior, there be no foemen here: so get thee to the lower end of the +Hall, and in the bower beyond shalt thou find fresh water; there wash the +waste from off thee, and do off thine helm and hauberk, and come back +speedily and eat with me; for I hunger, and so dost thou.’ + +He did as she bade him, and came back presently bearing in his hand both +helm and hauberk, and he looked light-limbed and trim and lissome, an +exceeding goodly man. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. THE FAIR WOMAN TELLETH FACE-OF-GOD OF HER KINDRED. + + +WHEN he came back to the daïs he saw that there was meat upon the board, +and the Friend said to him: + +‘Now art thou Gold-mane indeed: but come now, sit by me and eat, though +the Wood-woman giveth thee but a sorry banquet, O guest; but from the +Dale it is, and we be too far now from the dwellings of men to have +delicate meat on the board, though to-night when they come back thy cheer +shall be better. Yet even then thou shalt have no such dainties as +Stone-face hath imagined for thee at the hands of the Wood-wight.’ + +She laughed therewith, and he no less; and in sooth the meat was but +simple, of curds and new cheese, meat of the herdsmen. But Face-of-god +said gaily: ‘Sweet it shall be to me; good is all that the Friend +giveth.’ + +Then she raised her hand and made the sign of the Hammer over the board, +and looked up at him and said: + +‘Hath the Earth-god changed my face, Gold-mane, to what I verily am?’ + +He held his face close to hers and looked into it, and him-seemed it was +as pure as the waters of a mountain lake, and as fine and well-wrought +every deal of it as when his father had wrought in his stithy many days +and fashioned a small piece of great mastery. He was ashamed to kiss her +again, but he said to himself, ‘This is the fairest woman of the world, +whom I have sworn to wed this year.’ Then he spake aloud and said: + +‘I see the face of the Friend, and it will not change to me.’ + +Again she reddened a little, and the happy look in her face seemed to +grow yet sweeter, and he was bewildered with longing and delight. + +But she stood up and went to an ambrye in the wall and brought forth a +horn shod and lipped with silver of ancient fashion, and she poured wine +into it and held it forth and said: + +‘O guest from the Dale, I pledge thee! and when thou hast drunk to me in +turn we will talk of weighty matters. For indeed I bear hopes in my +hands too heavy for the daughters of men to bear; and thou art a +chieftain’s son, and mayst well help me to bear them; so let us talk +simply and without guile, as folk that trust one another.’ + +So she drank and held out the horn to him, and he took the horn and her +hand both, and he kissed her hand and said: + +‘Here in this Hall I drink to the Sons of the Wolf, whosoever they be.’ +Therewith he drank and he said: ‘Simply and guilelessly indeed will I +talk with thee; for I am weary of lies, and for thy sake have I told a +many.’ + +‘Thou shalt tell no more,’ she said; ‘and as for the health thou hast +drunk, it is good, and shall profit thee. Now sit we here in these +ancient seats and let us talk.’ + +So they sat them down while the sun was westering in the March afternoon, +and she said: + +‘Tell me first what tidings have been in the Dale.’ + +So he told her of the ransackings and of the murder at Carlstead. + +She said: ‘These tidings have we heard before, and some deal of them we +know better than ye do, or can; for we were the ransackers of Penny-thumb +and Harts-bane. Thereof will I say more presently. What other tidings +hast thou to tell of? What oaths were sworn upon the Boar last Yule?’ + +So he told her of the oath of Bristler the son of Brightling. She smiled +and said: ‘He shall keep his oath, and yet redden no blade.’ + +Then he told of his father’s oath, and she said: + +‘It is good; but even so would he do and no oath sworn. All men may +trust Iron-face. And thou, my friend, what oath didst thou swear?’ + +His face grew somewhat troubled as he said: ‘I swore to wed the fairest +woman in the world, though the Dalesmen gainsaid me, and they beyond the +Dale.’ + +‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and there is no need to ask thee whom thou didst mean +by thy “fairest woman,” for I have seen that thou deemest me fair enough. +My friend, maybe thy kindred will be against it, and the kindred of the +Bride; and it might be that my kindred would have gainsaid it if things +were not as they are. But though all men gainsay it, yet will not I. It +is meet and right that we twain wed.’ + +She spake very soberly and quietly, but when she had spoken there was +nothing in his heart but joy and gladness: yet shame of her loveliness +refrained him, and he cast down his eyes before hers. Then she said in a +kind voice: + +‘I know thee, how glad thou art of this word of mine, because thou +lookest on me with eyes of love, and thinkest of me as better than I am; +though I am no ill woman and no beguiler. But this is not all that I +have to say to thee, though it be much; for there are more folk in the +world than thou and I only. But I told thee this first, that thou +mightest trust me in all things. So, my friend, if thou canst, refrain +thy joy and thy longing a little, and hearken to what concerneth thee and +me, and thy people and mine.’ + +‘Fair woman and sweet friend,’ he said, ‘thou knowest of a gladness which +is hard to bear if one must lay it aside for a while; and of a longing +which is hard to refrain if it mingle with another longing—knowest thou +not?’ + +‘Yea,’ she said, ‘I know it.’ + +‘Yet,’ said Face-of-god, ‘I will forbear as thou biddest me. Tell me, +then, what were the felons who were slain at Carlstead? Knowest thou of +them?’ + +‘Over well,’ she said, ‘they are our foes this many a year; and since we +met last autumn they have become foes of you Dalesmen also. Soon shall +ye have tidings of them; and it was against them that I bade thee arm +yesterday.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Is it against them that thou wouldst have us do battle +along with thy folk?’ + +‘So it is,’ she said; ‘no other foemen have we. And now, Gold-mane, thou +art become a friend of the Wolf, and shalt before long be of affinity +with our House; that other day thou didst ask me to tell thee of me and +mine, and now will I do according to thine asking. Short shall my tale +be; because maybe thou shalt hear it told again, and in goodly wise, +before thine whole folk. + +‘As thou wottest we be now outlaws and Wolves’ Heads; and whiles we lift +the gear of men, but ever if we may of ill men and not of good; there is +no worthy goodman of the Dale from whom we would take one hoof, or a skin +of wine, or a cake of wax. + +‘Wherefore are we outlaws? Because we have been driven from our own, and +we bore away our lives and our weapons, and little else; and for our +lands, thou seest this Vale in the howling wilderness and how narrow and +poor it is, though it hath been the nurse of warriors in time past. + +‘Hearken! Time long ago came the kindred of the Wolf to these Mountains +of the World; and they were in a pass in the stony maze and the utter +wilderness of the Mountains, and the foe was behind them in numbers not +to be borne up against. And so it befell that the pass forked, and there +were two ways before our Folk; and one part of them would take the way to +the north and the other the way to the south; and they could not agree +which way the whole Folk should take. So they sundered into two +companies, and one took one way and one another. Now as to those who +fared by the southern road, we knew not what befell them, nor for long +and long had we any tale of them. + +‘But we who took the northern road, we happened on this Vale amidst the +wilderness, and we were weary of fleeing from the over-mastering foe; and +the dale seemed enough, and a refuge, and a place to dwell in, and no man +was there before us, and few were like to find it, and we were but a few. +So we dwelt here in this Vale for as wild as it is, the place where the +sun shineth never in the winter, and scant is the summer sunshine +therein. Here we raised a Doom-ring and builded us a Hall, wherein thou +now sittest beside me, O friend, and we dwelt here many seasons. + +‘We had a few sheep in the wilderness, and a few neat fed down the grass +of the Vale; and we found gems and copper in the rocks about us wherewith +at whiles to chaffer with the aliens, and fish we drew from our river the +Shivering Flood. Also it is not to be hidden that in those days we did +not spare to lift the goods of men; yea, whiles would our warriors fare +down unto the edges of the Plain and lie in wait there till the time +served, and then drive the spoil from under the very walls of the Cities. +Our men were not little-hearted, nor did our women lament the death of +warriors over-much, for they were there to bear more warriors to the +Folk. + +‘But the seasons passed, and the Folk multiplied in Shadowy Vale, and +livelihood seemed like to fail them, and needs must they seek wider +lands. So by ways which thou wilt one day wot of, we came into a valley +that lieth north-west of Shadowy Vale: a land like thine of Burgdale, or +better; wide it was, plenteous of grass and trees, well watered, full of +all things that man can desire. + +‘Were there men before us in this Dale? sayest thou. Yea, but not very +many, and they feeble in battle, weak of heart, though strong of body. +These, when they saw the Sons of the Wolf with weapons in their hands, +felt themselves puny before us, and their hearts failed them; and they +came to us with gifts, and offered to share the Dale between them and us, +for they said there was enough for both folks. So we took their offer +and became their friends; and some of our Houses wedded wives of the +strangers, and gave them their women to wife. Therein they did amiss; +for the blended Folk as the generations passed became softer than our +blood, and many were untrusty and greedy and tyrannous, and the days of +the whoredom fell upon us, and when we deemed ourselves the mightiest +then were we the nearest to our fall. But the House whereof I am would +never wed with these Westlanders, and other Houses there were who had +affinity with us who chiefly wedded with us of the Wolf, and their +fathers had come with ours into that fruitful Dale; and these were called +the Red Hand, and the Silver Arm, and the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged +Sword. Thou hast heard those names once before, friend?’ + +‘Yea,’ he said, and as he spoke the picture of that other day came back +to him, and he called to mind all that he had said, and his happiness of +that hour seemed the more and the sweeter for that memory. + +She went on: ‘Fair and goodly is that Dale as mine own eyes have seen, +and plentiful of all things, and up in its mountains to the east are +caves and pits whence silver is digged abundantly; therefore is the Dale +called Silver-dale. Hast thou heard thereof, my friend?’ + +‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘though I have marvelled whence ye gat such +foison of silver.’ + +He looked on her and marvelled, for now she seemed as if it were another +woman: her eyes were gleaming bright, her lips were parted; there was a +bright red flush on the pommels of her two cheeks as she spake again and +said: + +‘Happy lived the Folk in Silver-dale for many and many winters and +summers: the seasons were good and no lack was there: little sickness +there was and less war, and all seemed better than well. It is strange +that ye Dalesmen have not heard of Silver-dale.’ + +‘Nay,’ said he, ‘but I have not; of Rose-dale have I heard, as a land +very far away: but no further do we know of toward that aírt. Lieth +Silver-dale anywhere nigh to Rose-dale?’ + +She said: ‘It is the next dale to it, yet is it a far journey betwixt the +two, for the ice-sea pusheth a horn in betwixt them; and even below the +ice the mountain-neck is passable to none save a bold crag-climber, and +to him only bearing his life in his hands. But, my friend, I am but +lingering over my tale, because it grieveth me sore to have to tell it. +Hearken then! In the days when I had seen but ten summers, and my +brother was a very young man, but exceeding strong, and as beautiful as +thou art now, war fell on us without rumour or warning; for there swarmed +into Silver-dale, though not by the ways whereby we had entered it, a +host of aliens, short of stature, crooked of limb, foul of aspect, but +fierce warriors and armed full well: they were men having no country to +go back to, though they had no women or children with them, as we had +when we were young in these lands, but used all women whom they took as +their beastly lust bade them, making them their thralls if they slew them +not. Soon we found that these foemen asked no more of us than all we +had, and therewithal our lives to be cast away or used for their service +as beasts of burden or pleasure. There then we gathered our fighting-men +and withstood them; and if we had been all of the kindreds of the Wolf +and the fruit of the wives of warriors, we should have driven back these +felons and saved the Dale, though it maybe more than half ruined: but the +most part of us were of that mingled blood, or of the generations of the +Dalesmen whom we had conquered long ago, and stout as they were of body +their hearts failed them, and they gave themselves up to the aliens to be +as their oxen and asses. + +‘Why make a long tale of it? We who were left, and could brook death but +not thraldom, fought it out together, women as well as men, till the +sweetness of life and a happy chance for escape bid us flee, vanquished +but free men. For at the end of three days’ fight we had been driven up +to the easternmost end of the Dale, and up anigh to the jaws of the pass +whereby the Folk had first come into Silver-dale, and we had those with +us who knew every cranny of that way, while to strangers who knew it not +it was utterly impassable; night was coming on also, and even those +murder-carles were weary with slaying; and, moreover, on this last day, +when they saw that they had won all, they were fighting to keep, and not +to slay, and a few stubborn carles and queens, of what use would they be, +or where was the gain of risking life to win them? + +‘So they forbore us, and night came on moonless and dark; and it was the +early spring season, when the days are not yet long, and so by night and +cloud we fled away, and back again to Shadowy Vale. + +‘Forsooth, we were but a few; for when we were gotten into this Vale, +this strip of grass and water in the wilderness, and had told up our +company, we were but two hundred and thirty and five of men and women and +children. For there were an hundred and thirty and three grown men of +all ages, and of women grown seventy and five, and one score and seven +children, whereof I was one; for, as thou mayst deem, it was easier for +grown men with weapons in their hands to escape from that slaughter than +for women and children. + +‘There sat we in yonder Doom-ring and took counsel, and to some it seemed +good that we should all dwell together in Shadowy Vale, and beset the +skirts of the foemen till the days should better; but others deemed that +there was little avail therein; and there was a mighty man of the +kindred, Stone-wolf by name, a man of middle-age, and he said, that late +in life had he tasted of war, and though the banquet was made bitter with +defeat, yet did the meat seem wholesome to him. “Come down with me to +the Cities of the Plain,” said he, “all you who are stout warriors; and +leave we here the old men and the swains and the women and children. +Hateful are the folk there, and full of malice, but soft withal and +dastardly. Let us go down thither and make ourselves strong amongst +them, and sell our valour for their wealth till we come to rule them, and +they make us their kings, and we establish the Folk of the Wolf amongst +the aliens; then will we come back hither and bring away that which we +have left.” + +‘So he spake, and the more part of the warriors yea said his rede, and +they went with him to the Westland, and amongst these was my brother +Folk-might (for that is his name in the kindred). And I sorrowed at his +departure, for he had borne me thither out of the flames and the clash of +swords and the press of battle, and to me had he ever been kind and +loving, albeit he hath had the Words of hard and froward used on him full +oft. + +‘So in this Vale abode we that were left, and the seasons passed; some of +the elders died, and some of the children also; but more children were +born, for amongst us were men and women to whom it was lawful to wed with +each other. Even with this scanty remnant was left some of the life of +the kindred of old days; and after we had been here but a little while, +the young men, yea and the old also, and even some of the women, would +steal through passes that we, and we only, knew of, and would fall upon +the Aliens in Silver-dale as occasion served, and lift their goods both +live and dead; and this became both a craft and a pastime amongst us. +Nor may I hide that we sometimes went lifting otherwhere; for in the +summer and autumn we would fare west a little and abide in the woods the +season through, and hunt the deer thereof, and whiles would we drive the +spoil from the scattered folk not far from your Shepherd-Folk; but with +the Shepherds themselves and with you Dalesmen we meddled not. + +‘Now that little wood-lawn with the toft of an ancient dwelling in it, +wherein, saith Bow-may, thou didst once rest, was one of our summer +abodes; and later on we built the hall under the pine-wood that thou +knowest. + +‘Thus then grew up our young men; and our maids were little softer; e’en +such as Bow-may is (and kind is she withal), and it seemed in very sooth +as if the Spirit of the Wolf was with us, and the roughness of the Waste +made us fierce; and law we had not and heeded not, though love was +amongst us.’ + +She stopped awhile and fell a-musing, and her face softened, and she +turned to him with that sweet happy look upon it and said: + +‘Desolate and dreary is the Dale, thou deemest, friend; and yet for me I +love it and its dark-green water, and it is to me as if the Fathers of +the kindred visit it and hold converse with us; and there I grew up when +I was little, before I knew what a woman was, and strange communings had +I with the wilderness. Friend, when we are wedded, and thou art a great +chieftain, as thou wilt be, I shall ask of thee the boon to suffer me to +abide here at whiles that I may remember the days when I was little and +the love of the kindred waxed in me.’ + +‘This is but a little thing to ask,’ said Face-of-god; ‘I would thou +hadst asked me more.’ + +‘Fear not,’ she said, ‘I shall ask thee for much and many things; and +some of them belike thou shalt deny me.’ + +He shook his head; but she smiled in his face and said: + +‘Yea, so it is, friend; but hearken. The seasons passed, and six years +wore, and I was grown a tall slim maiden, fleet of foot and able to +endure toil enough, though I never bore weapons, nor have done. So on a +fair even of midsummer when we were together, the most of us, round about +this Hall and the Doom-ring, we saw a tall man in bright war-gear come +forth into the Dale by the path that thou camest, and then another and +another till there were two score and seven men-at-arms standing on the +grass below the scree yonder; by that time had we gotten some weapons in +our hands, and we stood together to meet the new-comers, but they drew no +sword and notched no shaft, but came towards us laughing and joyous, and +lo! it was my brother Folk-might and his men, those that were left of +them, come back to us from the Westland. + +‘Glad indeed was I to behold him; and for him when he had taken me in his +arms and looked up and down the Dale, he cried out: ‘In many fair places +and many rich dwellings have I been; but this is the hour that I have +looked for.’ + +‘Now when we asked him concerning Stone-wolf and the others who were +missing (for ten tens of stalwarth men had fared to the Westland), he +swept out his hand toward the west and said with a solemn face: “There +they lie, and grass groweth over their bones, and we who have come aback, +and ye who have abided, these are now the children of the Wolf: there are +no more now on the earth.” + +‘Let be! It was a fair even and high was the feast in the Hall that +night, and sweet was the converse with our folk come back. A glad man +was my brother Folk-might when he heard that for years past we had been +lifting the gear of men, and chiefly of the Aliens in Silver-dale: and he +himself was become learned in war and a deft leader of men. + +‘So the days passed and the seasons, and we lived on as we might; but +with Folk-might’s return there began to grow up in all our hearts what +had long been flourishing in mine, and that was the hope of one day +winning back our own again, and dying amidst the dear groves of +Silver-dale. Within these years we had increased somewhat in number; for +if we had lost those warriors in the Westland, and some old men who had +died in the Dale, yet our children had grown up (I have now seen twenty +and one summers) and more were growing up. Moreover, after the first +year, from the time when we began to fall upon the Dusky Men of +Silver-dale, from time to time they who went on such adventures set free +such thralls of our blood as they could fall in with and whom they could +trust in, and they dwelt (and yet dwell) with us in the Dale: first and +last we have taken in three score and twelve of such men, and a score of +women-thralls withal. + +‘Now during these seasons, and not very long ago, after I was a woman +grown, the thought came to me, and to Folk-might also, that there were +kindreds of the people dwelling anear us whom we might so deal with that +they should become our friends and brothers in arms, and that through +them we might win back Silver-dale. + +‘Of Rose-dale we wotted already that the Folk were nought of our blood, +feeble in the field, cowed by the Dusky Men, and at last made thralls to +them; so nought was to do there. But Folk-might went to and fro to +gather tidings: at whiles I with him, at whiles one or more of +Wood-father’s children, who with their father and mother and Bow-may have +abided in the Vale ever since the Great Undoing. + +‘Soon he fell in with thy Folk, and first of all with the Woodlanders, +and that was a joy to him; for wot ye what? He got to know that these +men were the children of those of our Folk who had sundered from us in +the mountain passes time long and long ago; and he loved them, for he saw +that they were hardy and trusty, and warriors at heart. + +‘Then he went amongst the Shepherd-Folk, and he deemed them good men +easily stirred, and deemed that they might soon be won to friendship; and +he knew that they were mostly come from the Houses of the Woodlanders, so +that they also were of the kindred. + +‘And last he came into Burgdale, and found there a merry and happy Folk, +little wont to war, but stout-hearted, and nowise puny either of body or +soul; he went there often and learned much about them, and deemed that +they would not be hard to win to fellowship. And he found that the House +of the Face was the chiefest house there; and that the Alderman and his +sons were well beloved of all the folk, and that they were the men to be +won first, since through them should all others be won. I also went to +Burgstead with him twice, as I told thee erst; and I saw thee, and I +deemed that thou wouldest lightly become our friend; and it came into my +mind that I myself might wed thee, and that the House of the Face thereby +might have affinity thenceforth with the Children of the Wolf.’ + +He said: ‘Why didst thou deem thus of me, O friend?’ + +She laughed and said: ‘Dost thou long to hear me say the words when thou +knowest my thought well? So be it. I saw thee both young and fair; and +I knew thee to be the son of a noble, worthy, guileless man and of a +beauteous woman of great wits and good rede. And I found thee to be kind +and open-handed and simple like thy father, and like thy mother wiser +than thou thyself knew of thyself; and that thou wert desirous of deeds +and fain of women.’ + +She was silent for a while, and he also: then he said: ‘Didst thou draw +me to the woods and to thee?’ + +She reddened and said: ‘I am no spell-wife: but true it is that +Wood-mother made a waxen image of thee, and thrust through the heart +thereof the pin of my girdle-buckle, and stroked it every morning with an +oak-bough over which she had sung spells. But dost thou not remember, +Gold-mane, how that one day last Hay-month, as ye were resting in the +meadows in the cool of the evening, there came to you a minstrel that +played to you on the fiddle, and therewith sang a song that melted all +your hearts, and that this song told of the Wild-wood, and what was +therein of desire and peril and beguiling and death, and love unto Death +itself? Dost thou remember, friend?’ + +‘Yea,’ he said, ‘and how when the minstrel was done Stone-face fell to +telling us more tales yet of the woodland, and the minstrel sang again +and yet again, till his tales had entered into my very heart.’ + +‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and that minstrel was Wood-wont; and I sent him to sing +to thee and thine, deeming that if thou didst hearken, thou would’st seek +the woodland and happen upon us.’ + +He laughed and said: ‘Thou didst not doubt but that if we met, thou +mightest do with me as thou wouldest?’ + +‘So it is,’ she said, ‘that I doubted it little.’ + +‘Therein wert thou wise,’ said Face-of-god; ‘but now that we are talking +without guile to each other, mightest thou tell me wherefore it was that +Folk-might made that onslaught upon me? For certain it is that he was +minded to slay me.’ + +She said: ‘It was sooth what I told thee, that whiles he groweth so +battle-eager that whatso edge-tool he beareth must needs come out of the +scabbard; but there was more in it than that, which I could not tell thee +erst. Two days before thy coming he had been down to Burgstead in the +guise of an old carle such as thou sawest him with me in the +market-place. There was he guested in your Hall, and once more saw thee +and the Bride together; and he saw the eyes of love wherewith she looked +on thee (for so much he told me), and deemed that thou didst take her +love but lightly. And he himself looked on her with such love (and this +he told me not) that he deemed nought good enough for her, and would have +had thee give thyself up wholly to her; for my brother is a generous man, +my friend. So when I told him on the morn of that day whereon we met +that we looked to see thee that eve (for indeed I am somewhat +foreseeing), he said: “Look thou, Sun-beam, if he cometh, it is not +unlike that I shall drive a spear through him.” “Wherefore?” said I; +“can he serve our turn when he is dead?” Said he: “I care little. Mine +own turn will I serve. Thou sayest _Wherefore_? I tell thee this +stripling beguileth to her torment the fairest woman that is in the +world—such an one as is meet to be the mother of chieftains, and to stand +by warriors in their day of peril. I have seen her; and thus have I seen +her.” Then said I: “Greatly forsooth shalt thou pleasure her by slaying +him!” And he answered: “I shall pleasure myself. And one day she shall +thank me, when she taketh my hand in hers and we go together to the +Bride-bed.” Therewith came over me a clear foresight of the hours to +come, and I said to him: “Yea, Folk-might, cast the spear and draw the +sword; but him thou shalt not slay: and thou shalt one day see him +standing with us before the shafts of the Dusky Men.” So I spake; but he +looked fiercely at me, and departed and shunned me all that day, and by +good hap I was hard at hand when thou drewest nigh our abode. Nay, +Gold-mane, what would’st thou with thy sword? Why art thou so red and +wrathful? Would’st thou fight with my brother because he loveth thy +friend, thine old playmate, thy kinswoman, and thinketh pity of her +sorrow?’ + +He said, with knit brow and gleaming eyes: ‘Would the man take her away +from me perforce?’ + +‘My friend,’ she said, ‘thou art not yet so wise as not to be a fool at +whiles. Is it not so that she herself hath taken herself from thee, +since she hath come to know that thou hast given thyself to another? +Hath she noted nought of thee this winter and spring? Is she well +pleased with the ways of thee?’ + +He said: ‘Thou hast spoken simply with me, and I will do no less with +thee. It was but four days agone that she did me to wit that she knew of +me how I sought my love on the Mountain; and she put me to sore shame, +and afterwards I wept for her sorrow.’ + +Therewith he told her all that the Bride had said to him, as he well +might, for he had forgotten no word of it. + +Then said the Friend: ‘She shall have the token that she craveth, and it +is I that shall give it to her.’ + +Therewith she took from her finger a ring wherein was set a very fair +changeful mountain-stone, and gave it to him, and said: + +‘Thou shalt give her this and tell her whence thou hadst it; and tell her +that I bid her remember that To-morrow is a new day.’ + + + + +CHAPTER XX. THOSE TWO TOGETHER HOLD THE RING OF THE EARTH-GOD. + + +AND now they fell silent both of them, and sat hearkening the sounds of +the Dale, from the whistle of the plover down by the water-side to the +far-off voices of the children and maidens about the kine in the lower +meadows. At last Gold-mane took up the word and said: + +‘Sweet friend, tell me the uttermost of what thou would’st have of me. +Is it not that I should stand by thee and thine in the Folk-mote of the +Dalesmen, and speak for you when ye pray us for help against your foemen; +and then again that I do my best when ye and we are arrayed for battle +against the Dusky Men? This is easy to do, and great is the reward thou +offerest me.’ + +‘I look for this service of thee,’ she said, ‘and none other.’ + +‘And when I go down to the battle,’ said he, ‘shalt thou be sorry for our +sundering?’ + +She said: ‘There shall be no sundering; I shall wend with thee.’ + +Said he: ‘And if I were slain in the battle, would’st thou lament me?’ + +‘Thou shalt not be slain,’ she said. + +Again was there silence betwixt them, till at last he said: + +‘This then is why thou didst draw me to thee in the Wild-wood?’ + +‘Yea,’ said she. + +Again for a while no word was spoken, and Face-of-god looked on her till +she cast her eyes down before him. + +Then at last he spake, and the colour came and went in his face as he +said: ‘Tell me thy name what it is.’ + +She said: ‘I am called the Sun-beam.’ + +Then he said, and his voice trembled therewith: ‘O Sun-beam, I have been +seeking pleasant and cunning words, and can find none such. But tell me +this if thou wilt: dost thou desire me as I desire thee? or is it that +thou wilt suffer me to wed thee and bed thee at last as mere payment for +the help that I shall give to thee and thine? Nay, doubt it not that I +will take the payment, if this is what thou wilt give me and nought else. +Yet tell me.’ + +Her face grew troubled, and she said: + +‘Gold-mane, maybe that thou hast now asked me one question too many; for +this is no fair game to be played between us. For thee, as I deem, there +are this day but two people in the world, and that is thou and I, and the +earth is for us two alone. But, my friend, though I have seen but twenty +and one summers, it is nowise so with me, and to me there are many in the +world; and chiefly the Folk of the Wolf, amidst whose very heart I have +grown up. Moreover, I can think of her whom I have supplanted, the Bride +to wit; and I know her, and how bitter and empty her days shall be for a +while, and how vain all our redes for her shall seem to her. Yea, I know +her sorrow, and see it and grieve for it: so canst not thou, unless thou +verily see her before thee, her face unhappy, and her voice changed and +hard. Well, I will tell thee what thou askest. When I drew thee to me +on the Mountain I thought but of the friendship and brotherhood to be +knitted up between our two Folks, nor did I anywise desire thy love of a +young man. But when I saw thee on the heath and in the Hall that day, it +pleased me to think that a man so fair and chieftain-like should one day +lie by my side; and again when I saw that the love of me had taken hold +of thee, I would not have thee grieved because of me, but would have thee +happy. And now what shall I say?—I know not; I cannot tell. Yet am I +the Friend, as erst I called myself. + +‘And, Gold-mane, I have seen hitherto but the outward show and image of +thee, and though that be goodly, how would it be if thou didst shame me +with little-heartedness and evil deeds? Let me see thee in the Folk-mote +and the battle, and then may I answer thee.’ + +Then she held her peace, and he answered nothing; and she turned her face +from him and said: + +‘Out on it! have I beguiled myself as well as thee? These are but empty +words I have been saying. If thou wilt drag the truth out of me, this is +the very truth: that to-day is happy to me as it is to thee, and that I +have longed sore for its coming. O Gold-mane, O speech-friend, if thou +wert to pray me or command me that I lie in thine arms to-night, I should +know not how to gainsay thee. Yet I beseech thee to forbear, lest thy +death and mine come of it. And why should we die, O friend, when we are +so young, and the world lies so fair before us, and the happy days are at +hand when the Children of the Wolf and the kindreds of the Dale shall +deliver the Folk, and all days shall be good and all years?’ + +They had both risen up as she spake, and now he put forth his hands to +her and took her in his arms, wondering the while, as he drew her to him, +how much slenderer and smaller and weaker she seemed in his embrace than +he had thought of her; and when their lips met, he felt that she kissed +him as he her. Then he held her by the shoulders at arms’ length from +him, and beheld her face how her eyes were closed and her lips quivering. +But before him, in a moment of time, passed a picture of the life to be +in the fair Dale, and all she would give him there, and the days good and +lovely from morn to eve and eve to morn; and though in that moment it was +hard for him to speak, at last he spoke in a voice hoarse at first, and +said: + +‘Thou sayest sooth, O friend; we will not die, but live; I will not drag +our deaths upon us both, nor put a sword in the hands of Folk-might, who +loves me not.’ + +Then he kissed her on the brow and said: ‘Now shalt thou take me by the +hand and lead me forth from the Hall. For the day is waxing old, and +here meseemeth in this dim hall there are words crossing in the air about +us—words spoken in days long ago, and tales of old time, that keep egging +me on to do my will and die, because that is all that the world hath for +a valiant man; and to such words I would not hearken, for in this hour I +have no will to die, nor can I think of death.’ + +She took his hand and led him forth without more words, and they went +hand in hand and paced slowly round the Doom-ring, the light air +breathing upon them till their faces were as calm and quiet as their wont +was, and hers especially as bright and happy as when he had first seen +her that day. + +The sun was sinking now, and only sent one golden ray into the valley +through a cleft in the western rock-wall, but the sky overhead was bright +and clear; from the meadows came the sound of the lowing of kine and the +voices of children a-sporting, and it seemed to Gold-mane that they were +drawing nigher, both the children and the kine, and somewhat he begrudged +it that he should not be alone with the Friend. + +Now when they had made half the circuit of the Doom-ring, the Sun-beam +stopped him, and then led him through the Ring of Stones, and brought him +up to the altar which was amidst of it; and the altar was a great black +stone hewn smooth and clean, and with the image of the Wolf carven on the +front thereof; and on its face lay the gold ring which the priest or +captain of the Folk bore on his arm between the God and the people at all +folk-motes. + +So she said: ‘This is the altar of the God of Earth, and often hath it +been reddened by mighty men; and thereon lieth the Ring of the Sons of +the Wolf; and now it were well that we swore troth on that ring before my +brother cometh; for now will he soon be here.’ + +Then Gold-mane took the Ring and thrust his right hand through it, and +took her right hand in his; so that the Ring lay on both their hands, and +therewith he spake aloud: + +‘I am Face-of-god of the House of the Face, and I do thee to wit, O God +of the Earth, that I pledge my troth to this woman, the Sun-beam of the +Kindred of the Wolf, to beget my offspring on her, and to live with her, +and to die with her: so help me, thou God of the Earth, and the Warrior +and the God of the Face!’ + +Then spake the Sun-beam: ‘I, the Sun-beam of the Children of the Wolf, +pledge my troth to Face-of-god to lie in his bed and to bear his children +and none other’s, and to be his speech-friend till I die: so help me the +Wolf and the Warrior and the God of the Earth!’ + +Then they laid the Ring on the altar again, and they kissed each other +long and sweetly, and then turned away from the altar and departed from +the Doom-ring, going hand in hand together down the meadow, and as they +went, the noise of the kine and the children grew nearer and nearer, and +presently came the whole company of them round a ness of the rock-wall; +there were some thirty little lads and lasses driving on the milch-kine, +with half a score of older maids and grown women, one of whom was +Bow-may, who was lightly and scantily clad, as one who heeds not the +weather, or deems all months midsummer. + +The children came running up merrily when they saw the Sun-beam, but +stopped short shyly when they noted the tall fair stranger with her. +They were all strong and sturdy children, and some very fair, but brown +with the weather, if not with the sun. Bow-may came up to Gold-mane and +took his hand and greeted him kindly and said: + +‘So here thou art at last in Shadowy Vale; and I hope that thou art +content therewith, and as happy as I would wish thee to be. Well, this +is the first time; and when thou comest the second time it may well be +that the world shall be growing better.’ + +She held the distaff which she bore in her hand (for she had been +spinning) as if it were a spear; her limbs were goodly and shapely, and +she trod the thick grass of the Vale with a kind of wary firmness, as +though foemen might be lurking nearby. The Sun-beam smiled upon her +kindly and said: + +‘That shall not fail to be, Bow-may: ye have won a new friend to-day. +But tell me, when dost thou look to see the men here, for I was down by +the water when they went away yesterday?’ + +‘They shall come into the Dale a little after sunset,’ said Bow-may. + +‘Shall I abide them, my friend?’ said Gold-mane, turning to the Sun-beam. + +‘Yea,’ she said; ‘for what else art thou come hither? or art thou so +pressed to depart from us? Last time we met thou wert not so hasty to +sunder.’ + +They smiled on each other; and Bow-may looked on them and laughed +outright; then a flush showed in her cheeks through the tan of them, and +she turned toward the children and the other women who were busied about +the milking of the kine. + +But those two sat down together on a bank amidst the plain meadow, facing +the river and the eastern rock-wall, and the Sun-beam said: + +‘I am fain to speak to thee and to see thine eyes watching me while I +speak; and now, my friend, I will tell thee something unasked which has +to do with what e’en now thou didst ask me; for I would have thee trust +me wholly, and know me for what I am. Time was I schemed and planned for +this day of betrothal; but now I tell thee it has become no longer +needful for bringing to pass our fellowship in arms with thy people. Yea +yesterday, ere he went on a hunt, whereof he shall tell thee, Folk-might +was against it, in words at least; and yet as one who would have it done +if he might have no part in it. So, in good sooth, this hand that lieth +in thine is the hand of a wilful woman, who desireth a man, and would +keep him for her speech-friend. Now art thou fond and happy; yet bear in +mind that there are deeds to be done, and the troth we have just plighted +must be paid for. So hearken, I bid thee. Dost thou care to know why +the wheedling of thee is no longer needful to us?’ + +He said: ‘A little while ago I should have said, Yea, If thy lips say the +words. But now, O friend, it seemeth as if thine heart were already +become a part of mine, and I feel as if the chieftain were growing up in +me and the longing for deeds: so I say, Tell me, for I were fain to hear +what toucheth the welfare of thy Folk and their fellowship with my Folk; +for on that also have I set my heart?’ + +She said gravely and with solemn eyes: + +‘What thou sayest is good: full glad am I that I have not plighted my +troth to a mere goodly lad, but rather to a chieftain and a warrior. Now +then hearken! Since I saw thee first in the autumn this hath happened, +that the Dusky Men, increasing both in numbers and insolence, have it in +their hearts to win more than Silver-dale, and it is years since they +have fallen upon Rose-dale and conquered it, rather by murder than by +battle, and made all men thralls there, for feeble were the Folk thereof; +and doubt it not but that they will look into Burgdale before long. They +are already abroad in the woods, and were it not for the fear of the Wolf +they would be thicker therein, and faring wider; for we have slain many +of them, coming upon them unawares; and they know not where we dwell, nor +who we be: so they fear to spread about over-much and pry into unknown +places lest the Wolf howl on them. Yet beware! for they will gather in +numbers that we may not meet, and then will they swarm into the Dale; and +if ye would live your happy life that ye love so well, ye must now fight +for it; and in that battle must ye needs join yourselves to us, that we +may help each other. Herein have ye nought to choose, for now with you +it is no longer a thing to talk of whether ye will help certain strangers +and guests and thereby win some gain to yourselves, but whether ye have +the hearts to fight for yourselves, and the wits to be the fellows of +tall men and stout warriors who have pledged their lives to win or die +for it.’ + +She was silent a little and then turned and looked fondly on Face-of-god +and said: + +‘Therefore, Gold-mane, we need thee no longer; for thou must needs fight +in our battle. I have no longer aught to do to wheedle thee to love me. +Yet if thou wilt love me, then am I a glad woman.’ + +He said: ‘Thou wottest well that thou hast all my love, neither will I +fail thee in the battle. I am not little-hearted, though I would have +given myself to thee for no reward.’ + +‘It is well,’ said the Sun-beam; ‘nought is undone by that which I have +done. Moreover, it is good that we have plighted troth to-day. For +Folk-might will presently hear thereof, and he must needs abide the thing +which is done. Hearken! he cometh.’ + +For as she spoke there came a glad cry from the women and children, and +those two stood up and turned toward the west and beheld the warriors of +the Wolf coming down into the Dale by the way that Gold-mane had come. + +‘Come,’ said the Sun-beam, ‘here are your brethren in arms, let us go +greet them; they will rejoice in thee.’ + +So they went thither, and there stood eighty and seven men on the grass +below the scree and Folk-might their captain; and besides some valiant +women, and a few carles who were on watch on the waste, and a half score +who had been left in the Dale, these were all the warriors of the Wolf. +They were clad in no holiday raiment, not even Folk-might, but were in +sheep-brown gear of the coarsest, like to husbandmen late come from the +plough, but armed well and goodly. + +But when the twain drew near, the men clashed their spears on their +shields, and cried out for joy of them, for they all knew what +Face-of-god’s presence there betokened of fellowship with the kindreds; +but Folk-might came forward and took Face-of-god’s hand and greeted him +and said: + +‘Hail, son of the Alderman! Here hast thou come into the ancient abode +of chieftains and warriors, and belike deeds await thee also.’ + +Yet his brow was knitted as he said these words, and he spake slowly, as +one that constraineth himself; but presently his face cleared somewhat +and he said: + +‘Dalesman, it behoveth thy people to bestir them if ye would live and see +good days. Hath my sister told thee what is toward? Or what sayest +thou?’ + +‘Hail to thee, son of the Wolf!’ said Face-of-god. ‘Thy sister hath told +me all; and even if these Dusky Felons were not our foe-men also, yet +could I have my way, we should have given thee all help, and should have +brought back peace and good days to thy folk.’ + +Then Folk-might flushed red and spake, as he cast out his hand towards +the warriors and up and down toward the Dale: + +‘These be my folk, and these only: and as to peace, only those of us know +of it who are old men. Yet is it well; and if we and ye together be +strong enough to bring back good days to the feeble men whom the Dusky +Ones torment in Silver-dale it shall be better yet.’ + +Then he turned about to his sister, and looked keenly into her eyes till +she reddened, and took her hand and looked at the wrist and said: + +‘O sister, see I not the mark on thy wrist of the Ring of the God of the +Earth? Have not oaths been sworn since yesterday?’ + +‘True it is,’ she said, ‘that this man and I have plighted troth together +at the altar of the Doom-ring.’ + +Said Folk-might: ‘Thou wilt have thy will, and I may not amend it.’ +Therewith he turned about to Face-of-god and said: + +‘Thou must look to it to keep this oath, whatever other one thou hast +failed in.’ + +Said Face-of-god somewhat wrathfully: ‘I shall keep it, whether thou +biddest me to keep it or break it.’ + +‘That is well,’ said Folk-might, ‘and then for all that hath gone before +thou mayest in a manner pay, if thou art dauntless before the foe.’ + +‘I look to be no blencher in the battle,’ said Face-of-god; ‘that is not +the fashion of our kindred, whosoever may be before us. Yea, and even +were it thy blade, O mighty warrior of the Wolf, I would do my best to +meet it in manly fashion.’ + +As he spake he half drew forth Dale-warden from his sheath, looking +steadily into the eyes of Folk-might; and the Sun-beam looked upon him +happily. But Folk-might laughed and said: + +‘Thy sword is good, and I deem that thine heart will not fail thee; but +it is by my side and not in face of me that thou shalt redden the good +blade: I see not the day when we twain shall hew at each other.’ + +Then in a while he spake again: + +‘Thou must pardon us if our words are rough; for we have stood in rough +places, where we had to speak both short and loud, whereas there was much +to do. But now will we twain talk of matters that concern chieftains who +are going on a hard adventure. And ye women, do ye dight the Hall for +the evening feast, which shall be the feast of the troth-plight for you +twain. This indeed we owe thee, O guest; for little shall be thine +heritage which thou shalt have with my sister, over and above that thy +sword winneth for thee.’ + +But the Sun-beam said: ‘Hast thou any to-night?’ + +‘Yea,’ he said; ‘Spear-god, how many was it?’ + +There came forward a tall man bearing an axe in his right hand, and +carrying over his shoulder by his left hand a bundle of silver arm-rings +just such as Gold-mane had seen on the felons who were slain by +Wood-grey’s house. The carle cast them on the ground and then knelt down +and fell to telling them over; and then looked up and said: ‘Twelve +yesterday in the wood where the battle was going on; and this morning +seven by the tarn in the pine-wood and six near this eastern edge of the +wood: one score and five all told. But, Folk-might, they are coming nigh +to Shadowy Vale.’ + +‘Sooth is that,’ said Folk-might; ‘but it shall be looked to. Come now +apart with me, Face-of-god.’ + +So the others went their ways toward the Hall, while Folk-might led the +Burgdaler to a sheltered nook under the sheer rocks, and there they sat +down to talk, and Folk-might asked Gold-mane closely of the muster of the +Dalesmen and the Shepherds and the Woodland Caries, and he was well +pleased when Face-of-god told him of how many could march to a stricken +field, and of their archery, and of their weapons and their goodness. + +All this took some time in the telling, and now night was coming on +apace, and Folk-might said: + +‘Now will it be time to go to the Hall; but keep in thy mind that these +Dusky Men will overrun you unless ye deal with them betimes. These are +of the kind that ye must cast fear into their hearts by falling on them; +for if ye abide till they fall upon you, they are like the winter wolves +that swarm on and on, how many soever ye slay. And this above all things +shall help you, that we shall bring you whereas ye shall fall on them +unawares and destroy them as boys do with a wasp’s nest. Yet shall many +a mother’s son bite the dust. + +‘Is it not so that in four weeks’ time is your spring-feast and market at +Burgstead, and thereafter the great Folk-mote?’ + +‘So it is,’ said Gold-mane. + +‘Thither shall I come then,’ said Folk-might, ‘and give myself out for +the slayer of Rusty and the ransacker of Harts-bane and Penny-thumb; and +therefor shall I offer good blood-wite and theft-wite; and thy father +shall take that; for he is a just man. Then shall I tell my tale. Yet +it may be thou shalt see us before if battle betide. And now fair befall +this new year; for soon shall the scabbards be empty and the white swords +be dancing in the air, and spears and axes shall be the growth of this +spring-tide.’ + +And he leaped up from his seat and walked to and fro before Gold-mane, +and now was it grown quite dark. Then Folk-might turned to Face-of-god +and said: + +‘Come, guest, the windows of the Hall are yellow; let us to the feast. +To-morrow shalt thou get thee to the beginning of this work. I hope of +thee that thou art a good sword; else have I done a folly and my sister a +worse one. But now forget that, and feast.’ + +Gold-mane arose, not very well at ease, for the man seemed overbearing; +yet how might he fall upon the Sun-beam’s kindred, and the captain of +these new brethren in arms? So he spake not. But Folk-might said to +him: + +‘Yet I would not have thee forget that I was wroth with thee when I saw +thee to-day; and had it not been for the coming battle I had drawn sword +upon thee.’ + +Then Face-of-god’s wrath was stirred, and he said: + +‘There is yet time for that! but why art thou wroth with me? And I shall +tell thee that there is little manliness in thy chiding. For how may I +fight with thee, thou the brother of my plighted speech-friend and my +captain in this battle?’ + +‘Therein thou sayest sooth,’ said Folk-might; ‘but hard it was to see you +two standing together; and thou canst not give the Bride to me as I give +my sister to thee. For I have seen her, and I have seen her looking at +thee; and I know that she will not have it so.’ + +Then they went on together toward the Hall, and Face-of-god was silent +and somewhat troubled; and as they drew near to the Hall, Folk-might +spake again: + +‘Yet time may amend it; and if not, there is the battle, and maybe the +end. Now be we merry!’ + +So they went into the Hall together, and there was the Sun-beam +gloriously arrayed, as erst in the woodland bower, and Face-of-god sat on +the daïs beside her, and the uttermost sweetness of desire entered into +his soul as he noted her eyes and her mouth, that were grown so kind to +him, and her hand that strayed toward his. + +The Hall was full of folk, and all those warriors were there with +Wood-father and his sons, and Wood-mother, and Bow-may and many other +women; and Gold-mane looked down the Hall and deemed that he had never +seen such stalwarth bodies of men, or so bold and meet for battle: as for +the women he had seen fairer in Burgdale, but these were fair of their +own fashion, shapely and well-knit, and strong-armed and large-limbed, +yet sweet-voiced and gentle withal. Nay, the very lads of fifteen +winters or so, whereof a few were there, seemed bold and bright-eyed and +keen of wit, and it seemed like that if the warriors fared afield these +would be with them. + +So wore the feast; and Folk-might as aforetime amongst the healths called +on men to drink to the Jaws of the Wolf, and the Red Hand, and the Silver +Arm, and the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged Sword. But now had +Face-of-god no need to ask what these meant, since he knew that they were +the names of the kindreds of the Wolf. They drank also to the +troth-plight and to those twain, and shouted aloud over the health and +clashed their weapons: and Gold-mane wondered what echo of that shout +would reach to Burgstead. + +Then sang men songs of old time, and amongst them Wood-wont stood with +his fiddle amidst the Hall and Bow-may beside him, and they sang in turn +to it sweetly and clearly; and this is some of what they sang: + + _She singeth_. + + Wild is the waste and long leagues over; + Whither then wend ye spear and sword, + Where nought shall see your helms but the plover, + Far and far from the dear Dale’s sward? + + _He singeth_. + + Many a league shall we wend together + With helm and spear and bended bow. + Hark! how the wind blows up for weather: + Dark shall the night be whither we go. + + Dark shall the night be round the byre, + And dark as we drive the brindled kine; + Dark and dark round the beacon-fire, + Dark down in the pass round our wavering line. + + Turn on thy path, O fair-foot maiden, + And come our ways by the pathless road; + Look how the clouds hang low and laden + Over the walls of the old abode! + + _She singeth_. + + Bare are my feet for the rough waste’s wending, + Wild is the wind, and my kirtle’s thin; + Faint shall I be ere the long way’s ending + Drops down to the Dale and the grief therein. + + _He singeth_. + + Do on the brogues of the wild-wood rover, + Do on the byrnies’ ring-close mail; + Take thou the staff that the barbs hang over, + O’er the wind and the waste and the way to prevail. + + Come, for how from thee shall I sunder? + Come, that a tale may arise in the land; + Come, that the night may be held for a wonder, + When the Wolf was led by a maiden’s hand! + + _She singeth_. + + Now will I fare as ye are faring, + And wend no way but the way ye wend; + And bear but the burdens ye are bearing, + And end the day as ye shall end. + + And many an eve when the clouds are drifting + Down through the Dale till they dim the roof, + Shall they tell in the Hall of the Maiden’s Lifting, + And how we drave the spoil aloof. + + _They sing together_. + + Over the moss through the wind and the weather, + Through the morn and the eve and the death of the day, + Wend we man and maid together, + For out of the waste is born the fray. + +Then the Sun-beam spake to Gold-mane softly, and told him how this song +was made by a minstrel concerning a foray in the early days of their +first abode in Shadowy Vale, and how in good sooth a maiden led the fray +and was the captain of the warriors: + +‘Erst,’ she said, ‘this was counted as a wonder; but now we are so few +that it is no wonder though the women will do whatsoever they may.’ + +So they talked, and Gold-mane was very happy; but ere the good-night cup +was drunk, Folk-might spake to Face-of-god and said: + +‘It were well that ye rose betimes in the morning: but thou shalt not go +back by the way thou camest. Wood-wise and another shall go with thee, +and show thee a way across the necks and the heaths, which is rough +enough as far as toil goes, but where thy life shall be safer; and +thereby shalt thou hit the ghyll of the Weltering Water, and so come down +safely into Burgdale. Now that we are friends and fellows, it is no hurt +for thee to know the shortest way to Shadowy Vale. What thou shalt tell +concerning us in Burgdale I leave the tale thereof to thee; yet belike +thou wilt not tell everything till I come to Burgstead at the spring +market-tide. Now must I presently to bed; for before daylight to-morrow +must I be following the hunt along with two score good men of ours.’ + +‘What beast is afield then?’ said Gold-mane. + +Said Folk-might: ‘The beasts that beset our lives, the Dusky Men. In +these days we have learned how to find companies of them; and forsooth +every week they draw nigher to this Dale; and some day they should happen +upon us if we were not to look to it, and then would there be a murder +great and grim; therefore we scour the heaths round about, and the skirts +of the woodland, and we fall upon these felons in divers guises, so that +they may not know us for the same men; whiles are we clad in homespun, as +to-day, and seem like to field-working carles; whiles in scarlet and +gold, like knights of the Westland; whiles in wolf-skins; whiles in white +glittering gear, like the Wights of the Waste: and in all guises these +felons, for all their fierce hearts, fear us, and flee from us, and we +follow and slay them, and so minish their numbers somewhat against the +great day of battle.’ + +‘Tell me,’ said Gold-mane; ‘when we fall upon Silver-dale shall their +thralls, the old Dale-dwellers, fight for them or for us?’ + +Said Folk-might: ‘The Dusky Men will not dare to put weapons into the +hands of their thralls. Nay, the thralls shall help us; for though they +have but small stomach for the fight, yet joyfully when the fight is over +shall they cut their masters’ throats.’ + +‘How is it with these thralls?’ said Gold-mane. ‘I have never seen a +thrall.’ + +‘But I,’ said Folk-might, ‘have seen a many down in the Cities. And +there were thralls who were the tyrants of thralls, and held the whip +over them; and of the others there were some who were not very hardly +entreated. But with these it is otherwise, and they all bear grievous +pains daily; for the Dusky Men are as hogs in a garden of lilies. +Whatsoever is fair there have they defiled and deflowered, and they +wallow in our fair halls as swine strayed from the dunghill. No delight +in life, no sweet days do they have for themselves, and they begrudge the +delight of others therein. Therefore their thralls know no rest or +solace; their reward of toil is many stripes, and the healing of their +stripes grievous toil. To many have they appointed to dig and mine in +the silver-yielding cliffs, and of all the tasks is that the sorest, and +there do stripes abound the most. Such thralls art thou happy not to +behold till thou hast set them free; as we shall do.’ + +‘Tell me again,’ said Face-of-god; ‘Is there no mixed folk between these +Dusky Men and the Dalesmen, since they have no women of their own, but +lie with the women of the Dale? Moreover, do not the poor folk of the +Dale beget and bear children, so that there are thralls born of thralls?’ + +‘Wisely thou askest this,’ said Folk-might, ‘but thereof shall I tell +thee, that when a Dusky Carle mingles with a woman of the Dale, the child +which she beareth shall oftenest favour his race and not hers; or else +shall it be witless, a fool natural. But as for the children of these +poor thralls; yea, the masters cause them to breed if so their +masterships will, and when the children are born, they keep them or slay +them as they will, as they would with whelps or calves. To be short, +year by year these vile wretches grow fiercer and more beastly, and their +thralls more hapless and down-trodden; and now at last is come the time +either to do or to die, as ye men of Burgdale shall speedily find out. +But now must I go sleep if I am to be where I look to be at sunrise +to-morrow.’ + +Therewith he called for the sleeping-cup, and it was drunk, and all men +fared to bed. But the Sun-beam took Gold-mane’s hand ere they parted, +and said: + +‘I shall arise betimes on the morrow; so I say not farewell to-night; +yea, and after to-morrow it shall not be long ere we meet again.’ + +So Gold-mane lay down in that ancient hall, and it seemed to him ere he +slept as if his own kindred were slipping away from him and he were +becoming a child of the Wolf. ‘And yet,’ said he to himself, ‘I am +become a man; for my Friend, now she no longer telleth me to do or +forbear, and I tremble. Nay, rather she is fain to take the word from +me; and this great warrior and ripe man, he talketh with me as if I were +a chieftain meet for converse with chieftains. Even so it is and shall +be.’ + +And soon thereafter he fell asleep in the Hall in Shadowy Vale. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. FACE-OF-GOD LOOKETH ON THE DUSKY MEN. + + +WHEN he awoke again he saw a man standing over him, and knew him for +Wood-wise: he was clad in his war-gear, and had his quiver at his back +and his bow in his hand, for Wood-father’s children were all good bowmen, +though not so sure as Bow-may. He spake to Face-of-god: + +‘Dawn is in the sky, Dalesman; there is yet time for thee to wash the +night off of thee in our bath of the Shivering Flood and to put thy mouth +to the milk-bowl; but time for nought else: for I and Bow-may are +appointed thy fellows for the road, and it were well that we were back +home speedily.’ + +So Face-of-god leapt up and went forth from the Hall, and Wood-wise led +to where was a pool in the river with steps cut down to it in the rocky +bank. + +‘This,’ said Wood-wise, ‘is the Carle’s Bath; but the Queen’s is lower +down, where the water is wider and shallower below the little mid-dale +force.’ + +So Gold-mane stripped off his raiment and leapt into the ice-cold pool; +and they had brought his weapons and war-gear with them; so when he came +out he clad and armed himself for the road, and then turned with +Wood-wise toward the outgate of the Dale; and soon they saw two men +coming from lower down the water in such wise that they would presently +cross their path, and as yet it was little more than twilight, so that +they saw not at first who they were, but as they drew nearer they knew +them for the Sun-beam and Bow-may. The Sun-beam was clad but in her +white linen smock and blue gown as he had first seen her, her hair was +wet and dripping with the river, her face fresh and rosy: she carried in +her two hands a great bowl of milk, and stepped delicately, lest she +should spill it. But Bow-may was clad in her war-gear with helm and +byrny, and a quiver at her back, and a bended bow in her hand. So they +greeted each other kindly, and the Sun-beam gave the bowl to Face-of-god +and said: + +‘Drink, guest, for thou hast a long and thirsty road before thee.’ + +So Face-of-god drank, and gave her the bowl back again, and she smiled on +him and drank, and the others after her till the bowl was empty: then +Bow-may put her hand on Wood-wise’s shoulder, and they led on toward the +outgate, while those twain followed them hand in hand. But the Sun-beam +said: + +‘This then is the new day I spoke of, and lo! it bringeth our sundering +with it; yet shall it be no longer than a day when all is said, and new +days shall follow after. And now, my friend, I shall see thee no later +than the April market; for doubt not that I shall go thither with +Folk-might, whether he will or not. Also as I led thee out of the house +when we last met, so shall I lead thee out of the Dale to-day, and I will +go with thee a little way on the waste; and therefore am I shod this +morning, as thou seest, for the ways on the waste are rough. And now I +bid thee have courage while my hand holdeth thine. For afterwards I need +not bid thee anything; for thou wilt have enough to do when thou comest +to thy Folk, and must needs think more of warriors then than of maidens.’ + +He looked at her and longed for her, but said soberly: ‘Thou art kind, O +friend, and thinkest kindly of me ever. But methinks it were not well +done for thee to wend with me over a deal of the waste, and come back by +thyself alone, when ye have so many foemen nearby.’ + +‘Nay,’ she said, ‘they be nought so near as that yet, and I wot that +Folk-might hath gone forth toward the north-west, where he looketh to +fall in with a company of the foemen. His battle shall be a guard unto +us.’ + +‘I pray thee turn back at the top of the outgate,’ said he, ‘and be not +venturesome. Thou wottest that the pitcher is not broken the first time +it goeth to the well, nor maybe the twentieth, but at last it cometh not +back.’ + +She said: ‘Nevertheless I shall have my will herein. And it is but a +little way I will wend with thee.’ + +Therewith were they come to the scree, and talk fell down between them as +they clomb it; but when they were in the darksome passage of the rocks, +and could scarce see one another, Face-of-god said: + +‘Where then is another outgate from the Dale? Is it not up the water?’ + +‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and there is none other: at the lower end the rocks +rise sheer from out the water, and a little further down is a great force +thundering betwixt them; so that by no boat or raft may ye come out of +the Dale. But the outgate up the water is called the Road of War, as +this is named the Path of Peace. But now are all ways ways of war.’ + +‘There is peace in my heart,’ said Gold-mane. + +She answered not for a while, but pressed his hand, and he felt her +breath on his cheek; and even therewithal they came out of the dark, and +Gold-mane saw that her cheek was flushed; and now she spake: + +‘One thing would I say to thee, my friend. Thou hast seen me amongst men +of war, amongst outlaws who seek violence; thou hast heard me bid my +brother to count the slain, and I shrinking not; thou knowest (for I have +told thee) how I have schemed and schemed for victorious battle. Yet I +would not have thee think of me as a Chooser of the Slain, a warrior +maiden, or as of one who hath no joy save in the battle whereto she +biddeth others. O friend, the many peaceful hours that I have had on the +grass down yonder, sitting with my rock and spindle in hand, the children +round about my knees hearkening to some old story so well remembered by +me! or the milking of the kine in the dewy summer even, when all was +still but for the voice of the water and the cries of the happy children, +and there round about me were the dear and beauteous maidens with whom I +had grown up, happy amidst all our troubles, since their life was free +and they knew no guile. In such times my heart was at peace indeed, and +it seemed to me as if we had won all we needed; as if war and turmoil +were over, after they had brought about peace and good days for our +little folk. + +‘And as for the days that be, are they not as that rugged pass, full of +bitter winds and the voice of hurrying waters, that leadeth yonder to +Silver-dale, as thou hast divined? and there is nought good in it save +that the breath of life is therein, and that it leadeth to pleasant +places and the peace and plenty of the fair dale.’ + +‘Sweet friend,’ he said, ‘what thou sayest is better than well: for time +shall be, if we come alive out of this pass of battle and bitter strife, +when I shall lead thee into Burgdale to dwell there. And thou wottest of +our people that there is little strife and grudging amongst them, and +that they are merry, and fair to look on, both men and women; and no man +there lacketh what the earth may give us, and it is a saying amongst us +that there may a man have that which he desireth save the sun and moon in +his hands to play with: and of this gladness, which is made up of many +little matters, what story may be told? Yet amongst it shall I live and +thou with me; and ill indeed it were if it wearied thee and thou wert +ever longing for some day of victorious strife, and to behold me coming +back from battle high-raised on the shields of men and crowned with bay; +if thine ears must ever be tickled with the talk of men and their songs +concerning my warrior deeds. For thus it shall not be. When I drive the +herds it shall be at the neighbours’ bidding whereso they will; not necks +of men shall I smite, but the stalks of the tall wheat, and the boles of +the timber-trees which the woodreeve hath marked for felling; the stilts +of the plough rather than the hilts of the sword shall harden my hands; +my shafts shall be for the deer, and my spears for the wood-boar, till +war and sorrow fall upon us, and I fight for the ceasing of war and +trouble. And though I be called a chief and of the blood of chiefs, yet +shall I not be masterful to the goodman of the Dale, but rather to my +hound; for my chieftainship shall be that I shall be well beloved and +trusted, and that no man shall grudge against me. Canst thou learn to +love such a life, which to me seemeth lovely? And thou? of whom I say +that thou art as if thou wert come down from the golden chairs of the +Burg of the Gods.’ + +They were well-nigh out of the steep path by now, and the daylight was +bright about them; there she stayed her feet a moment and turned to him +and said: + +‘All this should I love even now, if the grief of our Folk were but +healed, and hereafter shall I learn yet more of thy well-beloved face.’ + +Therewith she laid her face to his and kissed him fondly, and put his +hand to her side and held it there, saying: ‘Soon shall we be one in body +and in soul.’ + +And he laughed with joy and pride of life, and took her hand and led her +on again, and said: + +‘Yet feel the cold rings of my hauberk, my friend; look at the spears +that cumber my hand, and at Dale-warden hanging by my side. Thou shalt +yet see me as the Slain’s Chooser would see her speech-friend; for there +is much to do ere we win wheat-harvest in Burgdale.’ + +Therewith they stepped together on to the level ground of the waste, and +saw Bow-may sitting on a stone hard by, and Wood-wise standing beside her +bending his bow. Bow-may smiled on Gold-mane and rose up, and they all +went on together, turning so that they went nearly alongside the wall of +the Vale, but westering a little; then the Sun-beam said: + +‘Many a time have I trodden this heath alongside our rock-wall; for if ye +wend a little further as our faces are turned, ye come to the crags over +the place where the Shivering Flood goeth out of Shadowy Vale. There +when ye have clomb a little may’st thou stand on the edge of the +rock-wall, and look down and behold the Flood swirling and eddying in the +black gorge of the rocks, and see presently the reek of the force go up, +and hear the thunder of the waters as they pour over it: and all this +about us now is as the garden of our house—is it not so, Bow-may?’ + +‘Yea,’ said she, ‘and there are goodly cluster-berries to be gotten +hereabout in the autumn; many a time have the Sun-beam and I reddened our +lips with them. Yet is it best to be wary when war is abroad and hot +withal.’ + +‘Yea,’ said the Sun-beam, ‘and all this place comes into the story of our +House: lo! Gold-mane, two score paces before us a little on our right +hand those five grey stones. They are called the Rocks of the Elders: +for there in the first days of our abiding in Shadowy Vale the Elders +were wont to come together to talk privily upon our matters.’ + +Face-of-god looked thither as she spoke, but therewith saw Bow-may, who +went on the left hand of the Sun-beam, as Face-of-god on her right hand, +notch a shaft on her bent bow, and Wood-wise, who was on his right hand, +saw it also and did the like, and therewithal Face-of-god got his target +on to his arm, and even as he did so Bow-may cried out suddenly: + +‘Yea, yea! Cast thyself on to the ground, Sun-beam! Gold-mane, targe +and spear, targe and spear! For I see steel gleaming yonder out from +behind the Elders’ Rocks.’ + +Scarce were the words out of her mouth ere three shafts came flying, and +the bow-strings twanged. Gold-mane felt that one smote his helm and +glanced from it. Therewithal he saw the Sun-beam fall to earth, though +he knew not if she had but cast herself down as Bow-may bade. Bow-may’s +string twanged at once, and a yell came from the foemen: but Wood-wise +loosed not, but set his hand to his mouth and gave a loud wild cry—Ha! +ha! ha! ha! How-ow-ow!—ending in a long and exceeding great whoop like +nought but the wolf’s howl. Now Gold-mane thinking swiftly, in a moment +of time, as war-meet men do, judged that if the Sun-beam were hurt (and +she had made no cry), it were yet wiser to fall on the foe before turning +to tend her, or else all might be lost; so he rushed forward spear in +hand and target on arm, and saw, as he opened up the flank of the Elders’ +Rocks, six men, whereof one leaned aback on the rock with Bow-may’s shaft +in his shoulder, and two others were just in act of loosing at him. In a +moment, as he rushed at them, one shaft went whistling by him, and the +other glanced from off his target; he cast a spear as he bounded on, and +saw it smite one of the shooters full in the naked face, and saw the +blood spout out and change his face and the man roll over, and then in +another moment four men were hewing at him with their short steel axes. +He thrust out his target against them, and then let the weight of his +body come on his other spear, and drave it through the second shooter’s +throat, and even therewith was smitten on the helm so hard that, though +the Alderman’s work held out, he fell to his knees, holding his target +over his head and striving to draw forth Dale-warden; in that nick of +time a shaft whistled close by his ear, and as he rose to his feet again +he saw his foeman rolling over and over, clutching at the ling with both +hands. Then rang out again the terrible wolf-whoop from Wood-wise’s +mouth, and both he and Bow-may loosed a shaft, for the two other foes had +turned their backs and were fleeing fast. Again Bow-may hit the clout, +and the Dusky Man fell dead at once, but Wood-wise’s arrow flew over the +felon’s shoulder as he ran. Then in a trice was Gold-mane bounding after +him like the hare just roused from her form; for it came into his head +that these felons had beheld them coming up out of the Vale, and that if +even this one man escaped, he would bring his company down upon the +Vale-dwellers. + +Strong and light-foot as any was Face-of-god, and though he was cumbered +with his hauberk, yet was Iron-face’s handiwork far lighter than the +war-coat of the Dusky Man, and the race was soon over. The felon turned +breathless to meet Gold-mane, who drave his target against him and cast +him to earth, and as he strove to rise smote off his head at one stroke; +for Dale-warden was a good sword and the Dalesman as fierce of mood as +might be. There he let the felon lie, and, turning, walked back swiftly +toward the Elders’ Rocks, and found there Wood-wise and the dead foemen, +for the carle had slain the wounded, and he was now drawing the silver +arm-rings off the slain men; for all these Dusky Felons bore silver +arm-rings. But Bow-may was walking towards the Sun-beam, and thitherward +followed Gold-mane speedily. + +He found her sitting on a tussock of grass close by where she had fallen, +her face pale, her eyes eager and gleaming; she looked up at him as he +drew nigher and said: + +‘Friend, art thou hurt?’ + +‘Nay,’ he said, ‘and thou? Thou art pale.’ + +‘I am not hurt,’ she said. Then she smiled and said again: + +‘Did I not tell thee that I am no warrior like Bow-may here? Such deeds +make maidens pale.’ + +Said Bow-may: ‘If ye will have the truth, Gold-mane, she is not wont to +grow pale when battle is nigh her. Look you, she hath had the gift of a +new delight, and findeth it sweeter and softer than she had any thought +of; and now hath she feared lest it should be taken from her.’ + +‘Bow-may saith but the sooth,’ said the Sun-beam simply, ‘and kind it is +of her to say it. I saw thee, Bow-may, and good was thy shooting, and I +love thee for it.’ + +Said Bow-may: ‘I never shoot otherwise than well. But those idle +shooters of the Dusky Ones, whereabouts nigh to thee went their shafts?’ + +Said the Sun-beam: ‘One just lifted the hair by my left ear, and that was +not so ill-aimed; as for the other, it pierced my raiment by my right +knee, and pinned me to the earth, so that I tottered and fell, and my +gown and smock are grievously wounded, both of them.’ + +And she took the folds of the garments in her hands to show the rents +therein; and her colour was come again, and she was glad. + +‘What were best to do now?’ she said. + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Let us tarry a little; for some of thy carles shall +surely come up from the Vale: because they will have heard Wood-wise’s +whoop, since the wind sets that way.’ + +‘Yea, they will come,’ said the Sun-beam. + +‘Good is that,’ said Face-of-god; ‘for they shall take the dead felons +and cast them where they be not seen if perchance any more stray hereby. +For if they wind them, they may well happen on the path down to the Vale. +Also, my friend, it were well if thou wert to bid a good few of the +carles that are in the Vale to keep watch and ward about here, lest there +be more foemen wandering about the waste.’ + +She said: ‘Thou art wise in war, Gold-mane; I will do as thou biddest me. +But soothly this is a perilous thing that the Dusky Men are gotten so +close to the Vale.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘This will Folk-might look to when he cometh home; and +it is most like that he will deem it good to fall on them somewhere a +good way aloof, so as to draw them off from wandering over the waste. +Also I will do my best to busy them when I am home in Burgdale.’ + +Therewith came up Wood-wise, and fell to talk with them; and his mind it +was that these foemen were but a band of strayers, and had had no inkling +of Shadowy Vale till they had heard them talking together as they came up +the path from the Vale, and that then they had made that ambush behind +the Elders’ Rocks, so that they might slay the men, and then bear off the +woman. He said withal that it would be best to carry their corpses +further on, so that they might be cast over the cliffs into the fierce +stream of the Shivering Flood. + +Amidst this talk came up men from the Vale, a score of them, well armed; +and they ran to meet the wayfarers; and when they heard what had +befallen, they rejoiced exceedingly, and were above all glad that +Face-of-god had shown himself doughty and deft; and they deemed his rede +wise, to set a watch thereabouts till Folk-might came home, and said that +they would do even so. + +Then spake the Sun-beam and said: + +‘Now must ye wayfarers depart; for the road is but rough, and the day not +over-long.’ + +Then she turned to Face-of-god and put her hand on his shoulder, and +brought her face close to his and spake to him softly: + +‘Doth this second parting seem at all strange to thee, and that I am now +so familiar to thee, I whom thou didst once deem to be a very goddess? +And now thou hast seen me redden before thine eyes because of thee; and +thou hast seen me grow pale with fear because of thee; and thou hast felt +my caresses which I might not refrain; even as if I were altogether such +a maiden as ye warriors hang about for a nine days’ wonder, and then all +is over save an aching heart—wilt thou do so with me? Tell me, have I +not belittled myself before thee as if I asked thee to scorn me? For +thus desire dealeth both with maid and man.’ + +He said: ‘In all this there is but one thing for me to say, and that is +that I love thee; and surely none the less, but rather the more, because +thou lovest me, and art of my kind, and mayest share in my deeds and +think well of them. Now is my heart full of joy, and one thing only +weigheth on it; and that is that my kinswoman the Bride begrudgeth our +love together. For this is the thing that of all things most misliketh +me, that any should bear a grudge against me.’ + +She said: ‘Forget not the token, and my message to her.’ + +‘I will not forget it,’ said he. ‘And now I bid thee to kiss me even +before all these that are looking on; for there is nought to belittle us +therein, since we be troth-plight.’ + +And indeed those folk stood all round about them gazing on them, but a +little aloof, that they might not hear their words if they were minded to +talk privily. For they had long loved the Sun-beam, and now the love of +Face-of-god had begun to spring up in their hearts. + +So the twain embraced and kissed one another, and made no haste +thereover; and those men deemed that but meet and right, and clashed +their weapons on their shields in token of their joy. + +Then Face-of-god turned about and strode out of the ring of men, with +Bow-may and Wood-wise beside him, and they went on their journey over the +necks towards Burgstead. But the Sun-beam turned slowly from that place +toward the Vale, and two of the stoutest carles went along with her to +guard her from harm, and she went down into the Vale pondering all these +things in her heart. + +Then the other carles dragged off the corpses of the Dusky Men till they +had brought them to the sheer rocks above the Shivering Flood, and there +they tossed them over into the boiling caldron of the force, and so +departed taking with them the silver arm-rings of the slain to add to the +tale. + +But when they came back into the Vale the Sun-beam duly ordered that +watch and ward to keep the ingate thereto, and note all that should +befall till Folk-might came home. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. FACE-OF-GOD COMETH HOME TO BURGSTEAD. + + +BUT Face-of-god with Bow-may and Wood-wise fared over the waste, going at +first alongside the cliffs of the Shivering Flood, and then afterwards +turning somewhat to the west. They soon had to climb a very high and +steep bent going up to a mountain-neck; and the way over the neck was +rough indeed when they were on it, and they toiled out of it into a +barren valley, and out of the valley again on to a rough neck; and +such-like their journey the day long, for they were going athwart all +those great dykes that went from the ice-mountains toward the lower dales +like the outspread fingers of a hand or the roots of a great tree. And +the ice-mountains they had on their left hands and whiles at their backs. + +They went very warily, with their bows bended and spear in hand, but saw +no man, good or bad, and but few living things. At noon they rested in a +valley where was a stream, but no grass, nought but stones and sand; but +where they were at least sheltered from the wind, which was mostly very +great in these high wastes; and there Bow-may drew meat and wine from a +wallet she bore, and they ate and drank, and were merry enough; and +Bow-may said: + +‘I would I were going all the way with thee, Gold-mane; for I long sore +to let my eyes rest a while on the land where I shall one day live.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, ‘art thou minded to dwell there? We shall be +glad of that.’ + +‘Whither are thy wits straying?’ said she; ‘whether I am minded to it or +not, I shall dwell there.’ + +And Wood-wise nodded a yea to her. But Face-of-god said: + +‘Good will be thy dwelling; but wherefore must it be so?’ + +Then Wood-wise laughed and said: ‘I shall tell thee in fewer words than +she will, and time presses now: Wood-father and Wood-mother, and I and my +two brethren and this woman have ever been about and anigh the Sun-beam; +and we deem that war and other troubles have made us of closer kin to her +than we were born, whether ye call it brotherhood or what not, and never +shall we sunder from her in life or in death. So when thou goest to +Burgdale with her, there shall we be.’ + +Then was Face-of-god glad when he found that they deemed his wedding so +settled and sure; but Wood-wise fell to making ready for the road. And +Face-of-god said to him: + +‘Tell me one thing, Wood-wise; that whoop that thou gavest forth when we +were at handy-strokes e’en now—is it but a cry of thine own or is it of +thy Folk, and shall I hear it again?’ + +‘Thou may’st look to hear it many a time,’ said Wood-wise, ‘for it is the +cry of the Wolf. Seldom indeed hath battle been joined where men of our +blood are, but that cry is given forth. Come now, to the road!’ + +So they went their ways and the road worsened upon them, and toilsome was +the climbing up steep bents and the scaling of doubtful paths in the +cliff-sides, so that the journey, though the distance of it were not so +long to the fowl flying, was much eked out for them, and it was not till +near nightfall that they came on the ghyll of the Weltering Water some +six miles above Burgstead. Forsooth Wood-wise said that the way might be +made less toilsome though far longer by turning back eastward a little +past the vale where they had rested at midday; and that seemed good to +Gold-mane, in case they should be wending hereafter in a great company +between Burgdale and Shadowy Vale. + +But now those two went with Face-of-god down a path in the side of the +cliff whereby him-seemed he had gone before; and they came down into the +ghyll and sat down together on a stone by the water-side, and Face-of-god +spake to them kindly, for he deemed them good and trusty faring-fellows. + +‘Bow-may,’ said he, ‘thou saidst a while ago that thou wouldst be fain to +look on Burgdale; and indeed it is fair and lovely, and ye may soon be in +it if ye will. Ye shall both be more than welcome to the house of my +father, and heartily I bid you thither. For night is on us, and the way +back is long and toilsome and beset with peril. Sister Bow-may, thou +wottest that it would be a sore grief to me if thou camest to any harm, +and thou also, fellow Wood-wise. Daylight is a good faring-fellow over +the waste.’ + +Said Bow-may: ‘Thou art kind, Gold-mane, and that is thy wont, I know; +and fain were I to-night of the candles in thine hall. But we may not +tarry; for thou wottest how busy we be at home; and Sun-beam needeth me, +if it were only to make her sure that no Dusky Man is bearing off thine +head by its lovely locks. Neither shall we journey in the mirk night; +for look you, the moon yonder.’ + +‘Well,’ said Face-of-god, ‘parting is ill at the best, and I would I +could give you twain a gift, and especially to thee, my sister Bow-may.’ + +Said Wood-wise: ‘Thou may’st well do that; or at least promise the gift; +and that is all one as if we held it in our hands.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Bow-may, ‘Wood-wise and I have been thinking in one way +belike; and I was at point to ask a gift of thee.’ + +‘What is it?’ said Gold-mane. ‘Surely it is thine, if it were but a +guerdon for thy good shooting.’ + +She laughed and handled the skirts of his hauberk as she said: + +‘Show us the dint in thine helm that the steel axe made this morning.’ + +‘There is no such great dint,’ said he; ‘my father forged that helm, and +his work is better than good.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Bow-may, ‘and might I have hauberk and helm of his handiwork, +and Wood-wise a good sword of the same, then were I a glad woman, and +this man a happy carle.’ + +Said Gold-mane: ‘I am well pleased at thine asking, and so shall +Iron-face be when he heareth of thine archery; and how that Hall-face +were now his only son but for thy close shooting. But now must I to the +way; for my heart tells me that there may have been tidings in Burgstead +this while I have been aloof.’ + +So they rose all three, and Bow-may said: + +‘Thou art a kind brother, and soon shall we meet again; and that will be +well.’ + +Then he put his hands on her shoulders and kissed both her cheeks; and he +kissed Wood-wise, and turned and went his ways, threading the stony +tangle about the Weltering Water, which was now at middle height, and +running clear and strong; so turning once he beheld Wood-wise and Bow-may +climbing the path up the side of the ghyll, and Bow-may turned to him +also and waved her bow as token of farewell. Then he went upon his way, +which was rough enough to follow by night, though the moon was shining +brightly high aloft. Yet as he knew his road he made but little of it +all, and in somewhat more than an hour and a half was come out of the +pass into the broken ground at the head of the Dale, and began to make +his way speedily under the bright moonlight toward the Gate, still going +close by the water. But as he went he heard of a sudden cries and rumour +not far from him, unwonted in that place, where none dwelt, and where the +only folk he might look to see were those who cast an angle into the +pools and eddies of the Water. Moreover, he saw about the place whence +came the cries torches moving swiftly hither and thither; so that he +looked to hear of new tidings, and stayed his feet and looked keenly +about him on every side; and just then, between his rough path and the +shimmer of the dancing moonlit water, he saw the moon smite on something +gleaming; so, as quietly as he could, he got his target on his arm, and +shortened his spear in his right hand, and then turned sharply toward +that gleam. Even therewith up sprang a man on his right hand, and then +another in front of him just betwixt him and the water; an axe gleamed +bright in the moon, and he caught a great stroke on his target, and +therewith drave his left shoulder straight forward, so that the man +before him fell over into the water with a mighty splash; for they were +at the very edge of the deepest eddy of the Water. Then he spun round on +his heel, heeding not that another stroke had fallen on his right +shoulder, yet ill-aimed, and not with the full edge, so that it ran down +his byrny and rent it not. So he sent the thrust of his spear crashing +through the face and skull of the smiter, and looked not to him as he +fell, but stood still, brandishing his spear and crying out, ‘For the +Burg and the Face! For the Burg and the Face!’ + +No other foe came against him, but like to the echo of his cry rose a +clear shout not far aloof, ‘For the Face, for the Face! For the Burg and +the Face!’ He muttered, ‘So ends the day as it begun,’ and shouted loud +again, ‘For the Burg and the Face!’ And in a minute more came breaking +forth from the stone-heaps into the moonlit space before the water the +tall shapes of the men of Burgstead, the red torchlight and the moonlight +flashing back from their war-gear and weapons; for every man had his +sword or spear in hand. + +Hall-face was the first of them, and he threw his arms about his brother +and said: ‘Well met, Gold-mane, though thou comest amongst us like +Stone-fist of the Mountain. Art thou hurt? With whom hast thou dealt? +Where be they? Whence comest thou?’ + +‘Nay, I am not hurt,’ said Face-of-god. ‘Stint thy questions then, till +thou hast told me whom thou seekest with spear and sword and candle.’ + +‘Two felons were they,’ said Hall-face, ‘even such as ye saw lying dead +at Wood-grey’s the other day.’ + +‘Then may ye sheathe your swords and go home,’ said Gold-mane, ‘for one +lieth at the bottom of the eddy, and the other, thy feet are well-nigh +treading on him, Hall-face.’ + +Then arose a rumour of praise and victory, and they brought the torches +nigh and looked at the fallen man, and found that he was stark dead; so +they even let him lie there till the morrow, and all turned about toward +the Thorp; and many looked on Face-of-god and wondered concerning him, +whence he was and what had befallen him. Indeed, they would have asked +him thereof, but could not get at him to ask; but whoso could, went as +nigh to Hall-face and him as they might, to hearken to the talk between +the brothers. + +So as they went along Hall-face did verily ask him whence he came: ‘For +was it not so,’ said he, ‘that thou didst enter into the wood seeking +some adventure early in the morning the day before yesterday?’ + +‘Sooth is that,’ said Face-of-god, ‘and I came to Shadowy Vale, and +thence am I come this morning.’ + +Said Hall-face: ‘I know not Shadowy Vale, nor doth any of us. This is a +new word. How say ye, friends, doth any man here know of Shadowy Vale?’ + +They all said, ‘Nay.’ + +Then said Hall-face: ‘Hast thou been amongst mere ghosts and marvels, +brother, or cometh this tale of thy minstrelsy?’ + +‘For all your words,’ said Gold-mane, ‘to that Vale have I been; and, to +speak shortly (for I desire to have your tale, and am waiting for it), I +will tell thee that I found there no marvels or strange wights, but a +folk of valiant men; a folk small in numbers, but great of heart; a folk +come, as we be, from the Fathers and the Gods. And this, moreover, is to +be said of them, that they are the foes of these felons of whom ye were +chasing these twain. And these same Dusky Men of Silver-dale would slay +them every man if they might; and if we look not to it they will soon be +doing the same by us; for they are many, and as venomous as adders, as +fierce as bears, and as foul as swine. But these valiant men, who bear +on their banner the image of the Wolf, should be our fellows in arms, and +they have good will thereto; and they shall show us the way to +Silver-dale by blind paths, so that we may fall upon these felons while +they dwell there tormenting the poor people of the land, and thus may we +destroy them as lads a hornet’s nest. Or else the days shall be hard for +us.’ + +The men who hung about them drank in his words greedily. But Hall-face +was silent a little while, and then he said: ‘Brother Gold-mane, these be +great tidings. Time was when we might have deemed them but a minstrel’s +tale; for Silver-dale we know not, of which thou speakest so glibly, nor +the Dusky Men, any more than the Shadowy Vale. Howbeit, things have +befallen these two last days so strange and new, that putting them +together with the murder at Wood-grey’s, and thy words which seem +somewhat wild, it may well seem to us that tidings unlooked for are +coming our way.’ + +‘Come, then,’ said Face-of-god, ‘give me what thou hast in thy scrip, and +trust me, I shall not jeer at thy tale.’ + +Said Hall-face: ‘I also will be short with the tale; and that the more, +as meseemeth it is not yet done, and that thou thyself shalt share in the +ending of it. It was the day before yesterday, that is the day when thou +departedst into the woods on that adventure whereof thou shalt one day +tell me more, wilt thou not?’ + +‘Yea, in good time,’ said Face-of-god. + +‘Well,’ quoth Hall-face, ‘we went into the woods that day and in the +morning, but after sunrise, to the number of a score: we looked to meet a +bear and a she-bear with cubs in a certain place; for one of the +Woodlanders, a keen hunter, had told us of their lair. Also we were +wishful to slay some of the wild-swine, the yearlings, if we might. +Therefore, though we had no helms or shields or coats of fence, we had +bowshot a plenty, and good store of casting-weapons, besides our +wood-knives and an axe or so; and some of us, of whom I was one, bore our +battle-swords, as we are wont ever to do, be the foe beast or man. + +‘Thus armed we went up Wildlake’s Way and came to Carlstead, where +half-a-score Woodlanders joined themselves to us, so that we became a +band. We went up the half-cleared places past Carlstead for a mile, and +then turned east into the wood, and went I know not how far, for the +Woodlanders led us by crooked paths, but two hours wore away in our +going, till we came to the place where they looked to find the bears. It +is a place that may well be noted, for it is unlike the wood round about. +There is a close thicket some two furlongs about of thorn and briar and +ill-grown ash and oak and other trees, planted by the birds belike; and +it stands as it were in an island amidst of a wide-spreading woodlawn of +fine turf, set about in the most goodly fashion with great tall +straight-boled oak-trees, that seem to have been planted of set purpose +by man’s hand. Yea, dost thou know the place?’ + +‘Methinks I do,’ said Gold-mane, ‘and I seem to have heard the +Woodlanders give it a name and call it Boars-bait.’ + +‘That may be,’ said Hall-face. ‘Well, there we were, the dogs and the +men, and we drew nigh the thicket and beset it, and doubted not to find +prey therein: but when we would set the dogs at the thicket to enter it, +they were uneasy, and would not take up the slot, but growled and turned +about this way and that, so that we deemed that they winded some fierce +beast at our flanks or backs. + +‘Even so it was, and fierce enough and deadly was the beast; for suddenly +we heard bow-strings twang, and shafts came flying; and Iron-shield of +the Upper Dale, who was close beside me, leapt up into the air and fell +down dead with an arrow through his back. Then I bethought me in the +twinkling of an eye, and I cried out, “The foe are on us! take the cover +of the tree-boles and be wary! For the Burg and the Face! For the Burg +and the Face!” + +‘So we scattered and covered ourselves with the oak-boles, but besides +Iron-shield, who was slain outright, two goodmen were sorely hurt, to wit +Bald-face, a man of our house, and Stonyford of the Lower Dale. + +‘I looked from behind my tree-bole, a great one; and far off down the +glades I saw men moving, clad in gay raiment; but nearer to me, not a +hundred yards from my cover, I saw an arm clad in scarlet come out from +behind a tree-bole, so I loosed at it, and missed not; for straight there +tottered out from behind the tree one of those dusky foul-favoured men +like to those that were slain by Wood-grey. I had another shaft ready +notched, so I loosed and set the shaft in his throat, and he fell. + +‘Straightway was a yelling and howling about us like the cries of scalded +curs, and the oak-wood swarmed thick with these felons rushing on us; for +it seems that the man whom I had slain was a chief amongst them, or we +judged so by his goodly raiment. + +‘Methought then our last day was come. What could we do but run together +again after we had loosed at a venture, and so withstand them sword and +spear in hand? Some fell beneath our shot, but not many, for they came +on very swiftly. + +‘So they fell on us; but for all their fierceness and their numbers they +might not break our array, and we slew four and hurt many by sword-hewing +and spear-casting and push of spear; and five of us were hurt and one +slain by their dart-casting. So they drew off from us a little, and +strove to spread out and fall to shooting at us again; but this we would +not suffer, but pushed on as they fell back, keeping as close together as +we might for the trees. For we said that we would all die together if +needs must; and verily the stour was hard. + +‘Yet hearken! In that nick of time rose up a strange cry not far from +us, Ha! ha! ha! ha! How-ow-ow! ending like the howl of a wolf, and then +another and another and another, till the whole wood rang again. + +‘At first we deemed that here were come fresh foemen, and that we were +undone indeed; but when they heard it, the foe-men before us faltered and +gave way, and at last turned their backs and fled, and we followed, +keeping well together still: thereby the more part of these men escaped +us, for they fled wildly here and there from those who bore that cry with +them; so we knew that our work was being done for us; therefore we stood, +and saw tall men clad in sheep-brown weed running through the glades +pursuing those felons and smiting them down, till both fleers and +pursuers passed out of our sight like men in a dream, or as when ye roll +up a pictured cloth to lay it in the coffer. + +‘But to Stone-face’s mind those brown-clad men were the Wights of the +Wood that be of the Fathers’ blood, and our very friends; and when some +of us would yet have gone forward and foregathered with them, and +followed the chase along with them, Stone-face gainsaid it, bidding us +not to run into the arms of a second death, when we had but just escaped +from the first. Sooth to say, moreover, we had divers hurt men that +needed looking to. + +‘So what with one thing, what with another, we turned back: but +War-cliff’s brother, a tall man, had felled two of those felons with an +oak sapling which he had torn from the thicket; but he had not slain +them, and by now they were just awakening from their swoon, and were +sitting up looking round them with fierce rolling eyes, expecting the +stroke, for Raven of Longscree was standing over them with a naked +war-sword in his hand. But now that our blood was cool, we were loth to +slay them as they lay in our hands; so we bound them and brought them +away with us; and our own dead we carried also on such biers as we might +lightly make there, and with them three that were so grievously hurt that +they might not go afoot, these we left at Carlstead: they were Tardy the +Son of the Untamed, and Swan of Bull-meadow, both of the Lower Dale, and +a Woodlander, Undoomed to wit. But the dead were Iron-shield aforesaid, +and Wool-sark, and the Hewer, a Woodlander. + +‘So came we sadly at eventide to Burgstead with the two dead Burgdalers, +and the captive felons, and the wounded of us that might go afoot; and ye +may judge that they of Burgdale and our father deemed these tidings great +enough, and wotted not what next should befall. Stone-face would have +had those two felons slain there and then; for no true tale could we get +out of them, nor indeed any word at all. But the Alderman would not have +it so; and he deemed they might serve our turn as hostages if any of our +folk should be taken: for one and all we deemed, and still deem, that war +is on us and that new folk have gathered on our skirts. + +‘So the captives were shut up in the red out-bower of our house; and our +father was minded that thou mightest tell us somewhat of them when thou +wert come home. But about dusk to-day the word went that they had broken +out and gotten them weapons and fled up the Dale; and so it was. + +‘But to-morrow morning will a Gate-thing be holden, and there it will be +looked for of thee that thou tell us a true tale of thy goings. For it +is deemed, and it is my deeming especially, that thou may’st tell us more +of these men than thou hast yet told us. Is it not so?’ + +‘Yea, surely,’ said Gold-mane, ‘I can make as many words as ye will about +it; yet when all is said, it will come to much the same tale as I have +already told thee. Yet belike, if ye are minded to take up the sword to +defend you, I may tell you in what wise to lay hold on the hilts.’ + +‘And that is well,’ said Hall-face, ‘and no less do I look for of thee. +But lo! here are we come to the Gate of the Burg that abideth battle.’ + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. TALK IN THE HALL OF THE HOUSE OF THE FACE. + + +IN sooth they were come to the very Gate of Burgstead, and the great +gates were shut, and only a wicket was open, and a half score of stout +men in all their war-gear were holding ward thereby. They gave place to +Hall-face and his company, albeit some of the warders followed them +through the wicket that they might hear the story told. + +The street was full of folk, both men and women, talking together eagerly +concerning all these tidings, and when they saw the men of the +Hue-and-cry they came thronging about them, so that they might scarce get +to the door of the House of the Face because of the press; so Hall-face +(who was a very tall man) cried out: + +‘Good people, all is well! the runaways are slain, and Face-of-god is +come back with us; give place a little, that we may come into our house.’ + +Then the throng set up a shout, and made way a little, so that Hall-face +and Gold-mane and the others could get to the door. And they entered +into the Hall, and saw much folk therein; and men were sitting at table, +for supper was not yet over. But when they saw the new-comers they +mostly rose up from the board and stood silent to hear the tale, for they +had been talking many together each to each, so that the Hall was full of +confused noise. + +So Hall-face again cried out: ‘Men in this hall, good is the tidings. +The runaways are slain; and it was Face-of-god who slew them as he came +back safe from the waste.’ + +Then they shouted for joy, and the brethren and Stone-face with them (for +he had entered with them from the street) went up on to the daïs, while +the others of the Hue-and-cry gat them seats where they might at the +endlong tables. + +But when Face-of-god came up on to the daïs, there sat Iron-face looking +down on the thronged Hall with a ruddy cheerful countenance, and beside +him sat the Bride; for he had caused her to be brought thither when he +had heard of the tidings of battle. She was daintily clad in a +flame-coloured kirtle embroidered with gold about the bosom and sleeves, +and there was a fillet of golden roses on her ruddy hair. Her eyes shone +bright and eager, and the pommels of her cheeks were flushed and red +contrary to their wont. Needs must Gold-mane sit by her, and when he +came close to her he knew not what to do, but he put forth his hand to +her, yet with a troubled countenance; for he feared her grief mingled +with her beauty: as for her, she wavered in her mind whether she should +forbear to touch him or not; but she saw that men about were looking at +them, and especially was Iron-face looking on her: therefore she stood up +and took Gold-mane’s hand and kissed his face as she had been wont to do, +and by then was her face as white as paper; and her anguish pierced his +heart, so that he well-nigh groaned for grief of her. But Iron-face +looked on her and said kindly: + +‘Kinswoman, thou art pale; thou hast feared for thy mate amidst all these +tidings of war, and still fearest for him. But pluck up a heart; for the +man is a deft warrior for all his fair face, which thou lovest as a woman +should, and his hands may yet save his head. And if he be slain, yet are +there other men of the kindred, and the earth will not be a desert to +thee even then.’ + +She looked at Iron-face, and the colour was come back to her face +somewhat, and she said: + +‘It is true; I have feared for him; for he goeth into perilous places. +But for thee, thou art kind, and I thank thee for it.’ + +And therewith she kissed Iron-face and sat down in her place, and strove +to overmaster her grief, that her face might not be changed by it; for +now were thoughts of battle, and valiant hopes arising in men’s hearts; +and it seemed to her too grievous if she should mar that feast on the eve +of battle. + +But Iron-face kissed and embraced his son and said: ‘Art thou late come +from the waste? Hast thou seen new things? We look to have a notable +tale from thee; though here also have been tidings, and it is not unlike +that we shall presently have new work on our hands.’ + +‘Father,’ quoth Face-of-god, ‘I deem that when thou hast heard my tale +thou wilt think no less of it than that there are valiant folk to be +holpen, poor folk to be delivered, and evil folk to be swept from off the +face of the earth.’ + +‘It is well, son,’ said Iron-face. ‘I see that thy tale is long; let it +alone for to-night. To-morrow shall we hold a Gate-thing, and then shall +we hear all that thou hast to tell. Now eat thy meat and drink a bowl of +wine, and comfort thy troth-plight maiden.’ + +So Gold-mane sat down by the Bride, and ate and drank as he needs must; +but he was ill at ease and he durst not speak to her. For, on the one +hand, he thought concerning his love for the Sun-beam, and how sweet and +good a thing it was that she should take him by the hand and lead him +into noble deeds and great fame, caressing him so softly and sweetly the +while; and, on the other hand, there sat the Bride beside him, sorrowful +and angry, begrudging all that sweetness of love, as though it were +something foul and unseemly; and heavy on him lay the weight of that +grudge, for he was a man of a friendly heart. + +Stone-face sat outward from him on the other side of the Bride; and he +leaned across her towards Gold-mane and said: + +‘Fair shall be thy tale to-morrow, if thou tellest us all thine +adventure. Or wilt thou tell us less than all?’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘In good time shalt thou know it all, foster-father; +but it is not unlike that by the time that thou hast heard it, there +shall be so many other things to tell of, that my tale shall seem of +little account to thee—even as the saw saith that one nail driveth out +the other.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Stone-face, ‘but one tale belike shall be knit up with the +others, as it fareth with the figures that come one after other on the +weaver’s cloth; though one maketh not the other, yet one cometh of the +other.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Wise art thou now, foster-father, but thou shalt be +wiser yet in this matter by then a month hath worn: and to-morrow shalt +thou know enough to set thine hands a-work.’ + +So the talk fell between them; and the night wore, and the men of +Burgdale feasted in their ancient hall with merry hearts, little weighed +down by thought of the battle that might be and the trouble to come; for +they were valorous and kindly folk. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. FACE-OF-GOD GIVETH THAT TOKEN TO THE BRIDE. + + +NOW on the morrow, when Face-of-god arose and other men with him, and the +Hall was astir and there was no little throng therein, the Bride came up +to him; for she had slept in the House of the Face by the bidding of the +Alderman; and she spake to him before all men, and bade him come forth +with her into the garden, because she would speak to him apart. He +yeasaid her, though with a heavy heart; and to the folk about that seemed +meet and due, since those twain were deemed to be troth-plight, and they +smiled kindly on them as they went out of the Hall together. + +So they came into the garden, where the pear-trees were blossoming over +the spring lilies, and the cherries were showering their flowers on the +deep green grass, and everything smelled sweetly on the warm windless +spring morning. + +She led the way, going before him till they came by a smooth grass path +between the berry bushes, to a square space of grass about which were +barberry trees, their first tender leaves bright green in the sun against +the dry yellowish twigs. There was a sundial amidmost of the grass, and +betwixt the garden-boughs one could see the long grey roof of the ancient +hall; and sweet familiar sounds of the nesting birds and men and women +going on their errands were all about in the scented air. She turned +about at the sundial and faced Face-of-god, her hand lightly laid on the +scored brass, and spake with no anger in her voice: + +‘I ask thee if thou hast brought me the token whereon thou shalt swear to +give me that gift.’ + +‘Yea,’ said he; and therewith drew the ring from his bosom, and held it +out to her. She reached out her hand to him slowly and took it, and +their fingers met as she did so, and he noted that her hand was warm and +firm and wholesome as he well remembered it. + +She said: ‘Whence hadst thou this fair finger-ring?’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘My friend there in the mountain-valley drew it from +off her finger for thee, and bade me bear thee a message.’ + +Her face flushed red: ‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and doth she send me a message? +Then doth she know of me, and ye have talked of me together. Well, give +the message!’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘She saith, that thou shalt bear in mind, That +to-morrow is a new day.’ + +‘Yea,’ she said, ‘for her it is so, and for thee; but not for me. But +now I have brought thee here that thou mightest swear thine oath to me; +lay thine hand on this ring and on this brazen plate whereby the sun +measures the hours of the day for happy folk, and swear by the +spring-tide of the year and all glad things that find a mate, and by the +God of the Earth that rejoiceth in the life of man.’ + +Then he laid his hand on the finger-ring as it lay on the dial-plate and +said: + +‘By the spring-tide and the live things that long to multiply their kind; +by the God of the Earth that rejoiceth in the life of man, I swear to +give to my kinswoman the Bride the second man-child that I beget; to be +hers, to leave or cherish, to love or hate, as her will may bid her.’ +Then he looked on her soberly and said: ‘It is duly sworn; is it enough?’ + +‘Yea,’ she said; but he saw how the tears ran out of her eyes and wetted +the bosom of her kirtle, and she hung her head for shame of her grief. +And Gold-mane was all abashed, and had no word to say; for he knew that +no word of his might comfort her; and he deemed it ill done to stay there +and behold her sorrow; and he knew not how to get him gone, and be glad +elsewhere, and leave her alone. + +Then, as if she had read his thought, she looked up at him and said +smiling a little amidst of her tears: + +‘I bid thee stay by me till the flood is over; for I have yet a word to +say to thee.’ + +So he stood there gazing down on the grass in his turn, and not daring to +raise his eyes to her face, and the minutes seemed long to him: till at +last she said in a voice scarcely yet clear of weeping: + +‘Wilt thou say anything to me, and tell me what thou hast done, and why, +and what thou deemest will come of it?’ + +He said: ‘I will tell the truth as I know it, because thou askest it of +me, and not because I would excuse myself before thee. What have I done? +Yesterday I plighted my troth to wed the woman that I met last autumn in +the wood. And why? I wot not why, but that I longed for her. Yet I +must tell thee that it seemed to me, and yet seemeth, that I might do no +otherwise—that there was nothing else in the world for me to do. What do +I deem will come of it, sayest thou? This, that we shall be happy +together, she and I, till the day of our death.’ + +She said: ‘And even so long shall I be sorry: so far are we sundered now. +Alas! who looked for it? And whither shall I turn to now?’ + +Said Gold-mane: ‘She bade me tell thee that to-morrow is a new day: +meseemeth I know her meaning.’ + +‘No word of hers hath any meaning to me,’ said the Bride. + +‘Nay,’ said he, ‘but hast thou not heard these rumours of war that are in +the Dale? Shall not these things avail thee? Much may grow out of them; +and thou with the mighty heart, so faithful and compassionate!’ + +She said: ‘What sayest thou? What may grow out of them? Yea, I have +heard those rumours as a man sick to death heareth men talk of their +business down in the street while he lieth on his bed; and already he +hath done with it all, and hath no world to mend or mar. For me nought +shall grow out of it. What meanest thou?’ + +Said Gold-mane: ‘Is there nought in the fellowship of Folks, and the +aiding of the valiant, and the deliverance of the hapless?’ + +‘Nay,’ she said, ‘there is nought to me. I cannot think of it to-day nor +yet to-morrow belike. Yet true it is that I may mingle in it, though +thinking nought of it. But this shall not avail me.’ + +She was silent a little, but presently spake and said: ‘Thou sayest +right; it is not thou that hast done this, but the woman who sent me the +ring and the message of an old saw. O that she should be born to sunder +us! How hath it befallen that I am now so little to thee and she so +much?’ + +And again she was silent; and after a while Face-of-god spake kindly and +softly and said: ‘Kinswoman, wilt thou for ever begrudge our love? this +grudge lieth heavy on my soul, and it is I alone that have to bear it.’ + +She said: ‘This is but a light burden for thee to bear, when thou hast +nought else to bear! But do I begrudge thee thy love, Gold-mane? I know +not that. Rather meseemeth I do not believe in it—nor shall do ever.’ + +Then she held her peace a long while, nor did he speak one word: and they +were so still, that a robin came hopping about them, close to the hem of +her kirtle, and a starling pitched in the apple-tree hard by and whistled +and chuckled, turning about and about, heeding them nought. Then at last +she lifted up her face from looking on the grass and said: ‘These are +idle words and avail nothing: one thing only I know, that we are +sundered. And now it repenteth me that I have shown thee my tears and my +grief and my sickness of the earth and those that dwell thereon. I am +ashamed of it, as if thou hadst smitten me, and I had come and shown thee +the stripes, and said, See what thou hast done! hast thou no pity? Yea, +thou pitiest me, and wilt try to forget thy pity. Belike thou art right +when thou sayest, To-morrow is a new day; belike matters will arise that +will call me back to life, and I shall once more take heed of the joy and +sorrow of my people. Nay, it is most like that this I shall feign to do +even now. But if to-morrow be a new day, it is to-day now and not +to-morrow, and so shall it be for long. Hereof belike we shall talk no +more, thou and I. For as the days wear, the dealings between us shall be +that thou shalt but get thee away from my life, and I shall be nought to +thee but the name of a kinswoman. Thus should it be even wert thou to +strive to make it otherwise; and thou shalt _not_ strive. So let all +this be; for this is not the word I had to say to thee. But hearken! now +are we sundered, and it irketh me beyond measure that folk know it not, +and are kind, and rejoice in our love, and deem it a happy thing for the +folk; and this burden I may bear no longer. So I shall declare unto men +that I will not wed thee; and belike they may wonder why it is, till they +see thee wedded to the Woman of the Mountain. Art thou content that so +it shall be?’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Nay, thou shalt not take this all upon thyself; I also +shall declare unto the Folk that I will wed none but her, the +Mountain-Woman.’ + +She said: ‘This shalt thou not do; I forbid it thee. And I _will_ take +it all upon myself. Shall I have it said of me that I am unmeet to wed +thee, and that thou hast found me out at last and at latest? I lay this +upon thee, that wheresoever I declare this and whatsoever I may say, thou +shalt hold thy peace. This at least thou may’st do for me. Wilt thou?’ + +‘Yea,’ he said, ‘though it shall put me to shame.’ + +Again she was silent for a little; then she said: + +‘O Gold-mane, this would I take upon myself not soothly for any shame of +seeming to be thy cast-off; but because it is I who needs must bear all +the sorrow of our sundering; and I have the will to bear it greater and +heavier, that I may be as the women of old time, and they that have come +from the Gods, lest I belittle my life with malice and spite and +confusion, and it become poisonous to me. Be at peace! be at peace! And +leave all to the wearing of the years; and forget not that which thou +hast sworn!’ + +Therewith she turned and went from that green place toward the House of +the Face, walking slowly through the garden amongst the sweet odours, +beneath the fair blossoms, a body most dainty and beauteous of fashion, +but the casket of grievous sorrow, which all that goodliness availed not. + +But Face-of-god lingered in that place a little, and for that little +while the joy of his life was dulled and overworn; and the days before +his wandering on the mountain seemed to him free and careless and happy +days that he could not but regret. He was ashamed, moreover, that this +so unquenchable grief should come but of him, and the pleasure of his +life, which he himself had found out for himself, and which was but such +a little portion of the Earth and the deeds thereof. But presently his +thought wandered from all this, and as he turned away from the sundial +and went his ways through the garden, he called to mind his longing for +the day of the spring market, when he should see the Sun-beam again and +be cherished by the sweetness of her love. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. OF THE GATE-THING AT BURGSTEAD. + + +BUT now must he hasten, for the Gate-thing was to be holden two hours +before noon; so he betook him speedily to the Hall, and took his shield +and did on a goodly helm and girt his sword to his side, for men must +needs go to all folk-motes with their weapons and clad in war-gear. Thus +he went forth to the Gate with many others, and there already were many +folk assembled in the space aforesaid betwixt the Gate of the Burg and +the sheer rocks on the face of which were the steps that led up to the +ancient Tower on the height. The Alderman was sitting on the great stone +by the Gate-side which was his appointed place, and beside him on the +stone bench were the six Wardens of the Burg; but of the six Wardens of +the Dale there were but three, for the others had not yet heard tell of +the battle or had got the summons to the Thing, since they had been about +their business down the Dale. + +Face-of-god took his place silently amongst the neighbours, but men made +way for him, so that he must needs stand in front, facing his father and +the Wardens; and there went up a murmur of expectation round about him, +both because the word had gone about that he had a tale of new tidings to +tell, and also because men deemed him their best and handiest man, though +he was yet so young. + +Now the Alderman looked around and beheld a great throng gathered +together, and he looked on the shadow of the Gate which the southering +sun was casting on the hard white ground of the Thing-stead, and he saw +that it had just taken in the standing-stone which was in the midst of +the place. On the face of the said stone was carven the image of a +fighting man with shield on arm and axe in hand; for it had been set +there in old time in memory of the man who had bidden the Folk build the +Gate and its wall, and had showed them how to fashion it: for he was a +deft house-smith as well as a great warrior; and his name was Iron-hand. +So when the Alderman saw that this stone was wholly within the shadow of +the Gate he knew that it was the due time for the hallowing-in of the +Thing. So he bade one of the wardens who sat beside him and had a great +slug-horn slung about him, to rise and set the horn to his mouth. + +So that man arose and blew three great blasts that went bellowing about +the towers and down the street, and beat back again from the face of the +sheer rocks and up them and over into the wild-wood; and the sound of it +went on the light west-wind along the lips of the Dale toward the +mountain wastes. And many a goodman, when he heard the voice of the horn +in the bright spring morning, left spade or axe or plough-stilts, or the +foddering of the ewes and their younglings, and turned back home to fetch +his sword and helm and hasten to the Thing, though he knew not why it was +summoned: and women wending over the meadows, who had not yet heard of +the battle in the wood, hearkened and stood still on the green grass or +amidst the ripples of the ford, and the threat of coming trouble smote +heavy on their hearts, for they knew that great tidings must be towards +if a Thing must needs be summoned so close to the Great Folk-mote. + +But now the Alderman stood up and spake amidst the silence that followed +the last echoes of the horn: + +‘Now is hallowed in this Gate-thing of the Burgstead Men and the Men of +the Dale, wherein they shall take counsel concerning matters late +befallen, that press hard upon them. Let no man break the peace of the +Holy Thing, lest he become a man accursed in holy places from the plain +up to the mountain, and from the mountain down to the plain; a man not to +be cherished of any man of good will, not be holpen with victuals or +edge-tool or draught-beast; a man to be sheltered under no roof-tree, and +warmed at no hearth of man: so help us the Warrior and the God of the +Earth, and Him of the Face, and all the Fathers!’ + +When he had spoken men clashed their weapons in token of assent; and he +sat down again, and there was silence for a space. But presently came +thrusting forward a goodman of the Dale, who seemed as if he had come +hurriedly to the Thing; for his face was running down with sweat, his +wide-rimmed iron cap sat awry over his brow, and he was girt with a rusty +sword without a scabbard, and the girdle was ill-braced up about his +loins. So he said: + +‘I am Red-coat of Waterless of the Lower Dale. Early this morning as I +was going afield I met on the way a man akin to me, Fox of Upton to wit, +and he told me that men were being summoned to a Gate-thing. So I turned +back home, and caught up any weapon that came handy, and here I am, +Alderman, asking thee of the tidings which hath driven thee to call this +Thing so hard on the Great Folk-mote, for I know them nothing so.’ + +Then stood up Iron-face the Alderman and said: ‘This is well asked, and +soon shall ye be as wise as I am on this matter. Know ye, O men of +Burgstead and the Dale, that we had not called this Gate-thing so hard on +the Great Folk-mote had not great need been to look into troublous +matters. Long have ye dwelt in peace, and it is years on years now since +any foeman hath fallen on the Dale: but, as ye will bear in mind, last +autumn were there ransackings in the Dale and amidst of the Shepherds +after the manner of deeds of war; and it troubleth us that none can say +who wrought these ill deeds. Next, but a little while agone, was +Wood-grey, a valiant goodman of the Woodlanders, slain close to his own +door by evil men. These men we took at first for mere gangrel felons and +outcasts from their own folk: though there were some who spoke against +that from the beginning. + +‘But thirdly are new tidings again: for three days ago, while some of the +folk were hunting peaceably in the Wild-wood and thinking no evil, they +were fallen upon of set purpose by a host of men-at-arms, and nought +would serve but mere battle for dear life, so that many of our neighbours +were hurt, and three slain outright; and now mark this, that those who +there fell upon our folk were clad and armed even as the two felons that +slew Wood-grey, and moreover were like them in aspect of body. Now stand +forth Hall-face my son, and answer to my questions in a loud voice, so +that all may hear thee.’ + +So Hall-face stood forth, clad in gleaming war-gear, with an axe over his +shoulder, and seemed a doughty warrior. And Iron-face said to him: + +‘Tell me, son, those whom ye met in the wood, and of whom ye brought home +two captives, how much like were they to the murder-carles at +Wood-grey’s?’ + +Said Hall-face: ‘As like as peas out of the same cod, and to our eyes all +those whom we saw in the wood might have been sons of one father and one +mother, so much alike were they.’ + +‘Yea,’ said the Alderman; ‘now tell me how many by thy deeming fell upon +you in the wood?’ + +Said Hall-face: ‘We deemed that if they were any less than threescore, +they were little less.’ + +‘Great was the odds,’ said the Alderman. ‘Or how many were ye?’ + +‘One score and seven,’ said Hall-face. + +Said the Alderman: ‘And yet ye escaped with life all save those three?’ + +Hall-face said: ‘I deem that scarce one should have come back alive, had +it not been that as we fought came a noise like the howling of wolves, +and thereat the foemen turned and fled, and there followed on the fleers +tall men clad in sheep-brown raiment, who smote them down as they fled.’ + +‘Here then is the story, neighbours,’ said the Alderman, ‘and ye may see +thereby that if those slayers of Wood-grey were outcast, their band is a +great one; but it seemeth rather that they were men of a folk whose craft +it is to rob with the armed hand, and to slay the robbed; and that they +are now gathering on our borders for war. Yet, moreover, they have +foemen in the woods who should be fellows-in-arms of us. How sayest +thou, Stone-face? Thou art old, and hast seen many wars in the Dale, and +knowest the Wild-wood to its innermost. + +‘Alderman,’ said Stone-face, ‘and ye neighbours of the Dale, maybe these +foes whom ye have met are not of the race of man, but are trolls and +wood-wights. Now if they be trolls it is ill, for then is the world +growing worser, and the wood shall be right perilous for those who needs +must fare therein. Yet if they be men it is a worse matter; for the +trolls would not come out of the waste into the sunlight of the Dale. +But these foes, if they be men, are lusting after our fair Dale to eat it +up, and it is most like that they are gathering a huge host to fall upon +us at home. Such things I have heard of when I was young, and the aspect +of the evil men who overran the kindreds of old time, according to all +tales and lays that I have heard, is even such as the aspect of those +whom we have seen of late. As to those wolves who saved the neighbours +and chased their foemen, there is one here who belike knoweth more of all +this than we do, and that, O Alderman, is thy son whom I have fostered, +Face-of-god to wit. Bid him answer to thy questioning, and tell us what +he hath seen and heard of late; then shall we verily know the whole story +as far as it can be known.’ + +Then men pressed round, and were eager to hear what Face-of-god would be +saying. But or ever the Alderman could begin to question him, the throng +was cloven by new-comers, and these were the men who had been sent to +bring home the corpses of the Dusky Men: so they had cast loaded hooks +into the Weltering Water, and had dragged up him whom Face-of-god had +shoved into the eddy, and who had sunk like a stone just where he fell, +and now they were bringing him on a bier along with him who had been +slain a-land. They were set down in the place before the Alderman, and +men who had not seen them before looked eagerly on them that they might +behold the aspect of their foemen; and nought lovely were they to look +on; for the drowned man was already bleached and swollen with the water, +and the other, his face was all wryed and twisted with that spear-thrust +in the mouth. + +Then the Alderman said: ‘I would question my son Face-of-god. Let him +stand forth!’ + +And therewith he smiled merrily in his son’s face, for he was standing +right in front of him; and he said: + +‘Ask of me, Alderman, and I will answer.’ + +‘Kinsman,’ said Iron-face, ‘look at these two dead men, and tell me, if +thou hast seen any such besides those two murder-carles who were slain at +Carlstead; or if thou knowest aught of their folk?’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Yesterday I saw six others like to these both in array +and of body, and three of them I slew, for we were in battle with them +early in the morning.’ + +There was a murmur of joy at this word, since all men took these felons +for deadly foemen; but Iron-face said: ‘What meanest thou by “we”?’ + +‘I and the men who had guested me overnight,’ said Face-of-god, ‘and they +slew the other three; or rather a woman of them slew the felons.’ + +‘Valiant she was; all good go with her hand!’ said the Alderman. ‘But +what be these people, and where do they dwell?’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘As to what they are, they are of the kindred of the +Gods and the Fathers, valiant men, and guest-cherishing: rich have they +been, and now are poor: and their poverty cometh of these same felons, +who mastered them by numbers not to be withstood. As to where they +dwell: when I say the name of their dwelling-place men mock at me, as if +I named some valley in the moon: yet came I to Burgdale thence in one day +across the mountain-necks led by sure guides, and I tell thee that the +name of their abode is Shadowy Vale.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Iron-face, ‘knoweth any man here of Shadowy Vale, or where it +is?’ + +None answered for a while; but there was an old man who was sitting on +the shafts of a wain on the outskirts of the throng, and when he heard +this word he asked his neighbour what the Alderman was saying, and he +told him. Then said that elder: + +‘Give me place; for I have a word to say hereon.’ Therewith he arose, +and made his way to the front of the ring of men, and said: ‘Alderman, +thou knowest me?’ + +‘Yea,’ said Iron-face, ‘thou art called the Fiddle, because of thy sweet +speech and thy minstrelsy; whereof I mind me well in the time when I was +young and thou no longer young.’ + +‘So it is,’ said the Fiddle. ‘Now hearken! When I was very young I +heard of a vale lying far away across the mountain-necks; a vale where +the sun shone never in winter and scantily in summer; for my sworn +foster-brother, Fight-fain, a bold man and a great hunter, had happened +upon it; and on a day in full midsummer he brought me thither; and even +now I see the Vale before me as in a picture; a marvellous place, well +grassed, treeless, narrow, betwixt great cliff-walls of black stone, with +a green river running through it towards a yawning gap and a huge force. +Amidst that Vale was a doom-ring of black stones, and nigh thereto a +feast-hall well builded of the like stones, over whose door was carven +the image of a wolf with red gaping jaws, and within it (for we entered +into it) were stone benches on the daïs. Thence we came away, and +thither again we went in late autumn, and so dusk and cold it was at that +season, that we knew not what to call it save the valley of deep shade. +But its real name we never knew; for there was no man there to give us a +name or tell us any tale thereof; but all was waste there; the wimbrel +laughed across its water, the raven croaked from its crags, the eagle +screamed over it, and the voices of its waters never ceased; and thus we +left it. So the seasons passed, and we went thither no more: for +Fight-fain died, and without him wandering over the waste was irksome to +me; so never have I seen that valley again, or heard men tell thereof. + +‘Now, neighbours, have I told you of a valley which seemeth to be Shadowy +Vale; and this is true and no made-up story.’ + +The Alderman nodded kindly to him, and then said to Face-of-god: +‘Kinsman, is this word according with what thou knowest of Shadowy Vale?’ + +‘Yea, on all points,’ said Face-of-god; ‘he hath put before me a picture +of the valley. And whereas he saith, that in his youth it was waste, +this also goeth with my knowledge thereof. For once was it peopled, and +then was waste, and now again is it peopled.’ + +‘Tell us then more of the folk thereof,’ said the Alderman; ‘are they +many?’ + +‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘they are not. How might they be many, dwelling +in that narrow Vale amid the wastes? But they are valiant, both men and +women, and strong and well-liking. Once they dwelt in a fair dale called +Silver-dale, the name whereof will be to you as a name in a lay; and +there were they wealthy and happy. Then fell upon them this murderous +Folk, whom they call the Dusky Men; and they fought and were overcome, +and many of them were slain, and many enthralled, and the remnant of them +escaped through the passes of the mountains and came back to dwell in +Shadowy Vale, where their forefathers had dwelt long and long ago; and +this overthrow befell them ten years agone. But now their old foemen +have broken out from Silver-dale and have taken to scouring the wood +seeking prey; so they fall upon these Dusky Men as occasion serves, and +slay them without pity, as if they were adders or evil dragons; and +indeed they be worse. And these valiant men know for certain that their +foemen are now of mind to fall upon this Dale and destroy it, as they +have done with others nigher to them. And they will slay our men, and +lie with our women against their will, and enthrall our children, and +torment all those that lie under their hands till life shall be worse +than death to them. Therefore, O Alderman and Wardens, and ye neighbours +all, it behoveth you to take counsel what we shall do, and that +speedily.’ + +There was again a murmur, as of men nothing daunted, but intent on taking +some way through the coming trouble. But no man said aught till the +Alderman spake: + +‘When didst thou first happen upon this Earl-folk, son?’ + +‘Late last autumn,’ said Face-of-god. + +Said Iron-face: ‘Then mightest thou have told us of this tale before.’ + +‘Yea,’ said his son, ‘but I knew it not, or but little of it, till two +days agone. In the autumn I wandered in the woodland, and on the fell I +happened on a few of this folk dwelling in a booth by the pine-wood; and +they were kind and guest-fain with me, and gave me meat and drink and +lodging, and bade me come to Shadowy Vale in the spring, when I should +know more of them. And that was I fain of; for they are wise and goodly +men. But I deemed no more of those that I saw there save as men who had +been outlawed by their own folk for deeds that were unlawful belike, but +not shameful, and were biding their time of return, and were living as +they might meanwhile. But of the whole Folk and their foemen knew I no +more than ye did, till two days agone, when I met them again in Shadowy +Vale. Also I think before long ye shall see their chieftain in +Burgstead, for he hath a word for us. Lastly, my mind it is that those +brown-clad men who helped Hall-face and his company in the wood were +nought but men of this Earl-kin seeking their foemen; for indeed they +told me that they had come upon a battle in the woodland wherein they had +slain their foemen. Now have I told you all that ye need to know +concerning these matters.’ + +Again was there silence as Iron-face sat pondering a question for his +son; then a goodman of the Upper Dale, Gritgarth to wit, spake and said: + +‘Gold-mane mine, tell us how many is this folk; I mean their +fighting-men?’ + +‘Well asked, neighbour,’ said Iron-face. + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Their fighting-men of full age may be five score; but +besides that there shall be some two or three score of women that will +fight, whoever says them nay; and many of these are little worse in the +field than men; or no worse, for they shoot well in the bow. Moreover, +there will be a full score of swains not yet twenty winters old whom ye +may not hinder to fight if anything is a-doing.’ + +‘This is no great host,’ said the Alderman; ‘yet if they deem there is +little to lose by fighting, and nought to gain by sitting still, they may +go far in winning their desire; and that more especially if they may draw +into their quarrel some other valiant Folk more in number than they be. +I marvel not, though, they were kind to thee, son Gold-mane, if they knew +who thou wert.’ + +‘They knew it,’ said Face-of-god. + +‘Neighbours,’ said the Alderman, ‘have ye any rede hereon, and aught to +say to back your rede?’ + +Then spake the Fiddle: ‘As ye know and may see, I am now very old, and, +as the word goes, unmeet for battle: yet might I get me to the field, +either on mine own legs or on the legs of some four-foot beast, I would +strike, if it were but one stroke, on these pests of the earth. And, +Alderman, meseemeth we shall do amiss if we bid not the Earl-folk of +Shadowy Vale to be our fellows in arms in this adventure. For look you, +how few soever they be, they will be sure to know the ways of our foemen, +and the mountain passes, and the surest and nighest roads across the +necks and the mires of the waste; and though they be not a host, yet +shall they be worth a host to us?’ + +When men heard his words they shouted for joy of them; for hatred of the +Dusky Men who should so mar their happy life in the Dale was growing up +in them, and the more that hatred waxed, the more waxed their love of +those valiant ones. + +Now Red-coat of Waterless spake again: he was a big man, both tall and +broad, ruddy-faced and red-haired, some forty winters old. He said: + +‘Life hath been well with us of the Lower Dale, and we deem that we have +much to lose in losing it. Yet ill would the bargain be to buy life with +thralldom: we have been over-merry hitherto for that. Therefore I say, +to battle! And as to these men, these well-wishers of Face-of-god, if +they also are minded for battle with our foes, we were fools indeed if we +did not join them to our company, were they but one score instead of +six.’ + +Men shouted again, and they said that Red-coat had spoken well. Then one +after other the goodmen of the Dale came and gave their word for +fellowship in arms with the Men of Shadowy Vale, if there were such as +Face-of-god had said, which they doubted not; and amongst them that spake +were Fox of Nethertown, and Warwell, and Gritgarth, and Bearswain, and +Warcliff, and Hart of Highcliff, and Worm of Willowholm, and Bullsbane, +and Highneb of the Marsh: all these were stout men-at-arms and men of +good counsel. + +Last of all the Alderman spake and said: + +‘As to the war, that must we needs meet if all be sooth that we have +heard, and I doubt it not. + +‘Now therefore let us look to it like wise men while time yet serves. Ye +shall know that the muster of the Dalesmen will bring under shield eight +long hundreds of men well-armed, and of the Shepherd-Folk four hundreds, +and of the Woodlanders two hundreds; and this is a goodly host if it be +well ordered and wisely led. Now am I your Alderman and your Doomster, +and I can heave up a sword as well as another maybe, nor do I think that +I shall blench in the battle; yet I misdoubt me that I am no leader or +orderer of men-of-war: therefore ye will do wisely to choose a wiser +man-at-arms than I be for your War-leader; and if at the Great Folk-mote, +when all the Houses and Kindreds are gathered, men yeasay your choosing, +then let him abide; but if they naysay it, let him give place to another. +For time presses. Will ye so choose?’ + +‘Yea, yea!’ cried all men. + +‘Good is that, neighbours,’ said the Alderman. ‘Whom will ye have for +War-leader? Consider well.’ + +Short was their rede, for every man opened his mouth and cried out +‘Face-of-god!’ Then said the Alderman: + +‘The man is young and untried; yet though he is so near akin to me, I +will say that ye will do wisely to take him; for he is both deft of his +hands and brisk; and moreover, of this matter he knoweth more than all we +together. Now therefore I declare him your War-leader till the time of +the Great Folk-mote.’ + +Then all men shouted with great glee and clashed their weapons; but some +few put their heads together and spake apart a little while, and then one +of them, Red-coat of Waterless to wit, came forward and said: ‘Alderman, +some of us deem it good that Stone-face, the old man wise in war and in +the ways of the Wood, should be named as a counsellor to the War-leader; +and Hall-face, a very brisk and strong young man, to be his right hand +and sword-bearer.’ + +‘Good is that,’ said Iron-face. ‘Neighbours, will ye have it so?’ This +also they yeasaid without delay, and the Alderman declared Stone-face and +Hall-face the helpers of Face-of-god in this business. Then he said: + +‘If any hath aught to say concerning what is best to be done at once, it +were good that he said it now before all and not to murmur and grudge +hereafter.’ + +None spake save the Fiddle, who said: ‘Alderman and War-leader, one thing +would I say: that if these foemen are anywise akin to those overrunners +of the Folks of whom the tales went in my youth (for I also as well as +Stone-face mind me well of those tales concerning them), it shall not +avail us to sit still and await their onset. For then may they not be +withstood, when they have gathered head and burst out and over the folk +that have been happy, even as the waters that overtop a dyke and cover +with their muddy ruin the deep green grass and the flower-buds of spring. +Therefore my rede is, as soon as may be to go seek these folk in the +woodland and wheresoever else they may be wandering. What sayest thou, +Face-of-god?’ + +‘My rede is as thine,’ said he; ‘and to begin with, I do now call upon +ten tens of good men to meet me in arms at the beginning of Wildlake’s +Way to-morrow morning at daybreak; and I bid my brother Hall-face to +summon such as are most meet thereto. For this I deem good, that we +scour the wood daily at present till we hear fresh tidings from them of +Shadowy Vale, who are nigher than we to the foemen. Now, neighbours, are +ye ready to meet me?’ + +Then all shouted, ‘Yea, we will go, we will go!’ + +Said the Alderman: ‘Now have we made provision for the war in that which +is nearest to our hands. Yet have we to deal with the matter of the +fellowship with the Folk whom Face-of-god hath seen. This is a matter +for thee, son, at least till the Great Folk-mote is holden. Tell me +then, shall we send a messenger to Shadowy Vale to speak with this folk, +or shall we abide the chieftain’s coming?’ + +‘By my rede,’ said Face-of-god, ‘we shall abide his coming: for first, +though I might well make my way thither, I doubt if I could give any the +bearings, so that he could come there without me; and belike I am needed +at home, since I am become War-leader. Moreover, when your messenger +cometh to Shadowy Vale, he may well chance to find neither the chieftain +there, nor the best of his men; for whiles are they here, and whiles +there, as they wend following after the Dusky Men.’ + +‘It is well, son,’ said the Alderman, ‘let it be as thou sayest: soothly +this matter must needs be brought before the Great Folk-mote. Now will I +ask if any other hath any word to say, or any rede to give before this +Gate-thing sundereth?’ + +But no man came forward, and all men seemed well content and of good +heart; and it was now well past noontide. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. THE ENDING OF THE GATE-THING. + + +BUT just as the Alderman was on the point of rising to declare the +breaking-up of the Thing, there came a stir in the throng and it opened, +and a warrior came forth into the innermost of the ring of men, arrayed +in goodly glittering War-gear; clad in such wise that a tunicle of +precious gold-wrought web covered the hauberk all but the sleeves +thereof, and the hem of it beset with blue mountain-stones smote against +the ankles and well-nigh touched the feet, shod with sandals +gold-embroidered and gemmed. This warrior bore a goodly gilded helm on +the head, and held in hand a spear with gold-garlanded shaft, and was +girt with a sword whose hilts and scabbard both were adorned with gold +and gems: beardless, smooth-cheeked, exceeding fair of face was the +warrior, but pale and somewhat haggard-eyed: and those who were nearby +beheld and wondered; for they saw that there was come the Bride arrayed +for war and battle, as if she were a messenger from the House of the +Gods, and the Burg that endureth for ever. + +Then she fell to speech in a voice which at first was somewhat hoarse and +broken, but cleared as she went on, and she said: + +‘There sittest thou, O Alderman of Burgdale! Is Face-of-god thy son +anywhere nigh, so that he can hear me?’ + +But Iron-face wondered at her word, and said: ‘He is beside thee, as he +should be.’ For indeed Face-of-god was touching her, shoulder to +shoulder. But she looked not to the right hand nor the left, but said: + +‘Hearken, Iron-face! Chief of the House of the Face, Alderman of the +Dale, and ye also, neighbours and goodmen of the Dale: I am a woman +called the Bride, of the House of the Steer, and ye have heard that I +have plighted my troth to Face-of-god to wed with him, to love him, and +lie in his bed. But it is not so: we are not troth-plight; nor will I +wed with him, nor any other, but will wend with you to the war, and play +my part therein according to what might is in me; nor will I be worser +than the wives of Shadowy Vale.’ + +Face-of-god heard her words with no change of countenance; but Iron-face +reddened over all his face, and stared at her, and knit his brows and +said: + +‘Maiden, what are these words? What have we done to thee? Have I not +been to thee as a father, and loved thee dearly? Is not my son goodly +and manly and deft in arms? Hath it not ever been the wont of the House +of the Face to wed in the House of the Steer? and in these two Houses +there hath never yet been a goodlier man and a lovelier maiden than are +ye two. What have we done then?’ + +‘Ye have done nought against me,’ she said, ‘and all that thou sayest is +sooth; yet will I not wed with Face-of-god.’ + +Yet fiercer waxed the face of the Alderman, and he said in a loud voice: + +‘But how if I tell thee that I will speak with thy kindred of the Steer, +and thou shalt do after my bidding whether thou wilt or whether thou wilt +not?’ + +‘And how will ye compel me thereto?’ she said. ‘Are there thralls in the +Dale? Or will ye make me an outlaw? Who shall heed it? Or I shall +betake me to Shadowy Vale and become one of their warrior-maidens.’ + +Now was the Alderman’s face changing from red to white, and belike he +forgat the Thing, and what he was doing there, and he cried out: + +‘This is an evil day, and who shall help me? Thou, Face-of-god, what +hast thou to say? Wilt thou let this woman go without a word? What hath +bewitched thee?’ + +But never a word spake his son, but stood looking straight forward, cold +and calm by seeming. Then turned Iron-face again to the Bride, and said +in a softer voice: + +‘Tell me, maiden, whom I erst called daughter, what hath befallen, that +thou wilt leave my son; thou who wert once so kind and loving to him; +whose hand was always seeking his, whose eyes were ever following his; +who wouldst go where he bade, and come when he called. What hath betid +that ye have cast him out, and flee from our House?’ + +She flushed red beneath her helm and said: + +‘There is war in the land, and I have seen it coming, and that things +shall change around us. I have looked about me and seen men happy and +women content, and children weary for mere mirth and joy. And I have +thought, in a day, or two days or three, all this shall be changed, and +the women shall be, some anxious and wearied with waiting, some casting +all hope away; and the men, some shall come back to the garth no more, +and some shall come back maimed and useless, and there shall be loss of +friends and fellows, and mirth departed, and dull days and empty hours, +and the children wandering about marvelling at the sorrow of the house. +All this I saw before me, and grief and pain and wounding and death; and +I said: Shall I be any better than the worst of the folk that loveth me? +Nay, this shall never be; and since I have learned to be deft with mine +hands in all the play of war, and that I am as strong as many a man, and +as hardy-hearted as any, I will give myself to the Warrior and the God of +the Face; and the battle-field shall be my home, and the after-grief of +the fight my banquet and holiday, that I may bear the burden of my +people, in the battle and out of it; and know every sorrow that the Dale +hath; and cast aside as a grievous and ugly thing the bed of the warrior +that the maiden desires, and the toying of lips and hands and soft words +of desire, and all the joy that dwelleth in the Castle of Love and the +Garden thereof; while the world outside is sick and sorry, and the fields +lie waste and the harvest burneth. Even so have I sworn, even so will I +do.’ + +Her eyes glittered and her cheek was flushed, and her voice was clear and +ringing now; and when she ended there arose a murmur of praise from the +men round about her. But Iron-face said coldly: + +‘These are great words; but I know not what they mean. If thou wilt to +the field and fight among the carles (and that I would not naysay, for it +hath oft been done and praised aforetime), why shouldest thou not go side +by side with Face-of-god and as his plighted maiden?’ + +The light which the sweetness of speech had brought into her face had +died out of it now, and she looked weary and hapless as she answered him +slowly: + +‘I will not wed with Face-of-god, but will fare afield as a virgin of +war, as I have sworn to the Warrior.’ + +Then waxed Iron-face exceeding wroth, and he rose up before all men and +cried loudly and fiercely: + +‘There is some lie abroad, that windeth about us as the gossamers in the +lanes of an autumn morning.’ + +And therewith he strode up to Face-of-god as though he had nought to do +with the Thing; and he stood before him and cried out at him while all +men wondered: + +‘Thou! what hast thou done to turn this maiden’s heart to stone? Who is +it that is devising guile with thee to throw aside this worthy wedding in +a worthy House, with whom our sons are ever wont to wed? Speak, tell the +tale!’ + +But Face-of-god held his peace and stood calm and proud before all men. + +Then the blood mounted to Iron-face’s head, and he forgat folk and +kindred and the war to come, and he cried so that all the place rang with +the words of his anger: + +‘Thou dastard! I see thee now; it is thou that hast done this, and not +the maiden; and now thou hast made her bear a double burden, and set her +on to speak for thee, whilst thou standest by saying nought, and wilt +take no scruple’s weight of her shame upon thee!’ + +But his son spake never a word, and Iron-face cried: ‘Out on thee! I +know thee now, and why thou wouldest not to the West-land last winter. I +am no fool; I know thee. Where hast thou hidden the stranger woman?’ + +Therewith he drew forth his sword and hove it aloft as if to hew down +Face-of-god, who spake not nor flinched nor raised a hand from his side. +But the Bride threw herself in front of Gold-mane, while there arose an +angry cry of ‘The Peace of the Holy Thing! Peace-breaking, +peace-breaking!’ and some cried, ‘For the War-leader, the War-leader!’ +and as men could for the press they drew forth their swords, and there +was tumult and noise all over the Thing-stead. + +But Stone-face caught hold of the Alderman’s right arm and dragged down +the sword, and the big carle, Red-coat of Waterless, came up behind him +and cast his arms about his middle and drew him back; and presently he +looked around him, and slowly sheathed his sword, and went back to his +place and sat him down; and in a little while the noise abated and swords +were sheathed, and men waxed quiet again, and the Alderman arose and said +in a loud voice, but in the wonted way of the head man of the Thing: + +‘Here hath been trouble in the Holy Thing; a violent man hath troubled +it, and drawn sword on a neighbour; will the neighbours give the dooming +hereof into the hands of the Alderman?’ + +Now all knew Iron-face, and they cried out, ‘That will we.’ So he spake +again: + +‘I doom the troubler of the Peace of the Holy Thing to pay a fine, to wit +double the blood-wite that would be duly paid for a full-grown freeman of +the kindreds.’ + +Then the cry went up and men yeasaid his doom, and all said that it was +well and fairly doomed; and Iron-face sat still. + +But Stone-face stood forth and said: + +‘Here have been wild words in the air; and dreams have taken shape and +come amongst us, and have bewitched us, so that friends and kin have +wrangled. And meseemeth that this is through the wizardry of these +felons, who, even dead as they are, have cast spells over us. Good it +were to cast them into the Death Tarn, and then to get to our work; for +there is much to do.’ + +All men yeasaid that; and Forkbeard of Lea went with those who had borne +the corpses thither to cast them into the black pool. + +But the Fiddle spake and said: + +‘Stone-face sayeth sooth. O Alderman, thou art no young man, yet am I +old enough to be thy father; so will I give thee a rede, and say this: +Face-of-god thy son is no liar or dastard or beguiler, but he is a young +man and exceeding goodly of fashion, well-spoken and kind; so that few +women may look on him and hear him without desiring his kindness and +love, and to such men as this many things happen. Moreover, he hath now +become our captain, and is a deft warrior with his hands, and as I deem, +a sober and careful leader of men; therefore we need him and his courage +and his skill of leading. So rage not against him as if he had done an +ill deed not to be forgiven—whatever he hath done, whereof we know +not—for life is long before him, and most like we shall still have to +thank him for many good deeds towards us. As for the maiden, she is both +lovely and wise. She hath a sorrow at her heart, and we deem that we +know what it is. Yet hath she not lied when she said that she would bear +the burden of the griefs of the people. Even so shall she do; and +whether she will, or whether she will not, that shall heal her own +griefs. For to-morrow is a new day. Therefore, if thou do after my +rede, thou wilt not meddle betwixt these twain, but wilt remember all +that we have to do, and that war is coming upon us. And when that is +over, we shall turn round and behold each other, and see that we are not +wholly what we were before; and then shall that which were hard to +forgive, be forgotten, and that which is remembered be easy to forgive.’ + +So he spake; and Iron-face sat still and put his left hand to his beard +as one who pondereth; but the Bride looked in the face of the old man the +Fiddle, and then she turned and looked at Gold-mane, and her face +softened, and she stood before the Alderman, and bent down before him and +held out both her hands to him the palms upward. Then she said: ‘Thou +hast been wroth with me, and I marvel not; for thy hope, and the hope +which we all had, hath deceived thee. But kind indeed hast thou been to +me ere now: therefore I pray thee take it not amiss if I call to thy mind +the oath which thou swearedst on the Holy Boar last Yule, that thou +wouldst not gainsay the prayer of any man if thou couldest perform it; +therefore I bid thee naysay not mine: and that is, that thou wilt ask me +no more about this matter, but wilt suffer me to fare afield like any +swain of the Dale, and to deal so with my folk that they shall not hinder +me. Also I pray thee that thou wilt put no shame upon Face-of-god my +playmate and my kinsman, nor show thine anger to him openly, even if for +a little while thy love for him be abated. No more than this will I ask +of thee.’ + +All men who heard her were moved to the heart by her kindness and the +sweetness of her voice, which was like to the robin singing suddenly on a +frosty morning of early winter. But as for Gold-mane, his heart was +smitten sorely by it, and her sorrow and her friendliness grieved him out +of measure. + +But Iron-face answered after a little while, speaking slowly and +hoarsely, and with the shame yet clinging to him of a man who has been +wroth and has speedily let his wrath run off him. So he said: + +‘It is well, my daughter. I have no will to forswear myself; nor hast +thou asked me a thing which is over-hard. Yet indeed I would that to-day +were yesterday, or that many days were worn away.’ + +Then he stood up and cried in a loud voice over the throng: + +‘Let none forget the muster; but hold him ready against the time that the +Warden shall come to him. Let all men obey the War-leader, Face-of-god, +without question or delay. As to the fine of the peace-breaker, it shall +be laid on the altar of the God at the Great Folk-mote. Herewith is the +Thing broken up.’ + +Then all men shouted and clashed their weapons, and so sundered, and went +about their business. + +And the talk of men it was that the breaking of the troth-plight between +those twain was ill; for they loved Face-of-god, and as for the Bride +they deemed her the Dearest of the kindreds and the Jewel of the Folk, +and as if she were the fairest and the kindest of all the Gods. Neither +did the wrath of Iron-face mislike any; but they said he had done well +and manly both to be wroth and to let his wrath run off him. As to the +war which was to come, they kept a good heart about it, and deemed it as +a game to be played, wherein they might show themselves deft and valiant, +and so get back to their merry life again. + +So wore the day through afternoon to even and night. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. FACE-OF-GOD LEADETH A BAND THROUGH THE WOOD. + + +NEXT morning tryst was held faithfully, and an hundred and a half were +gathered together on Wildlake’s Way; and Face-of-god ordered them into +three companies. He made Hall-face leader over the first one, and bade +him hold on his way northward, and then to make for Boars-bait and see if +he should meet with anything thereabout where the battle had been. +Red-coat of Waterless he made captain of the second band; and he had it +in charge to wend eastward along the edge of the Dale, and not to go deep +into the wood, but to go as far as he might within the time appointed, +toward the Mountains. Furthermore, he bade both Hall-face and Red-coat +to bring their bands back to Wildlake’s Way by the morrow at sunset, +where other goodmen should be come to take the places of their men; and +then if he and his company were back again, he would bid them further +what to do; but if not, as seemed likely, then Hall-face’s band to go +west toward the Shepherd country half a day’s journey, and so back, and +Red-coat’s east along the Dale’s lip again for the like time, and then +back, so that there might be a constant watch and ward of the Dale kept +against the Felons. + +All being ordered Gold-mane led his own company north-east through the +thick wood, thinking that he might so fare as to come nigh to +Silver-dale, or at least to hear tidings thereof. This intent he told to +Stone-face, but the old man shook his head and said: + +‘Good is this if it may be done; but it is not for everyone to go down to +Hell in his lifetime and come back safe with a tale thereof. However, +whither thou wilt lead, thither will I follow, though assured death +waylayeth us.’ + +And the old carle was joyous and proud to be on this adventure, and said, +that it was good indeed that his foster-son had with him a man well +stricken in years, who had both seen many things, and learned many, and +had good rede to give to valiant men. + +So they went on their ways, and fared very warily when they were gotten +beyond those parts of the wood which they knew well. By this time they +were strung out in a long line; and they noted their road carefully, +blazing the trees on either side when there were trees, and piling up +little stone-heaps where the trees failed them. For Stone-face said that +oft it befell men amidst the thicket and the waste to be misled by wights +that begrudged men their lives, so that they went round and round in a +ring which they might not depart from till they died; and no man doubted +his word herein. + +All day they went, and met no foe, nay, no man at all; nought but the +wild things of the wood; and that day the wood changed little about them +from mile to mile. There were many thickets across their road which they +had to go round about; so that to the crow flying over the tree-tops the +journey had not been long to the place where night came upon them, and +where they had to make the wood their bedchamber. + +That night they lighted no fire, but ate such cold victual as they might +carry with them; nor had they shot any venison, since they had with them +more than enough; they made little noise or stir therefore and fell +asleep when they had set the watch. + +On the morrow they arose betimes, and broke their fast and went their +ways till noon: by then the wood had thinned somewhat, and there was +little underwood betwixt the scrubby oak and ash which were pretty nigh +all the trees about: the ground also was broken, and here and there +rocky, and they went into and out of rough little dales, most of which +had in them a brook of water running west and southwest; and now +Face-of-god led his men somewhat more easterly; and still for some while +they met no man. + +At last, about four hours after noon, when they were going less warily, +because they had hitherto come across nothing to hinder them, rising over +the brow of a somewhat steep ridge, they saw down in the valley below +them a half score of men sitting by the brook-side eating and drinking, +their weapons lying beside them, and along with them stood a woman with +her hands tied behind her back. + +They saw at once that these men were of the Felons, so they that had +their bows bent, loosed at them without more ado, while the others ran in +upon them with sword and spear. The felons leapt up and ran scattering +down the dale, such of them as were not smitten by the shafts; but he who +was nighest to the woman, ere he ran, turned and caught up a sword from +the ground and thrust it through her, and the next moment fell across the +brook with an arrow in his back. + +No one of the felons was nimble enough to escape from the fleet-foot +hunters of Burgdale, and they were all slain there to the number of +eleven. + +But when they came back to the woman to tend her, she breathed her last +in their hands: she was a young and fair woman, black-haired and +dark-eyed. She had on her body a gown of rich web, but nought else: she +had been bruised and sore mishandled, and the Burgdale carles wept for +pity of her, and for wrath, as they straightened her limbs on the turf of +the little valley. They let her lie there a little, whilst they searched +round about, lest there should be any other poor soul needing their help, +or any felon lurking thereby; but they found nought else save a bundle +wherein was another rich gown and divers woman’s gear, and sundry rings +and jewels, and therewithal the weapons and war-gear of a knight, +delicately wrought after the Westland fashion: these seemed to them to +betoken other foul deeds of these murder-carles. So when they had abided +a while, they laid the dead woman in mould by the brook-side, and buried +with her the other woman’s attire and the knight’s gear, all but his +sword and shield, which they had away with them: then they cast the +carcasses of the felons into the brake, but brought away their weapons +and the silver rings from their arms, which they wore like all the others +of them whom they had fallen in with; and so went on their way to the +north-east, full of wrath against those dastards of the Earth. + +It was hard on sunset when they left the valley of murder, and they went +no long way thence before they must needs make stay for the night; and +when they had arrayed their sleeping-stead the moon was up, and they saw +that before them lay the close wood again, for they had made their lair +on the top of a little ridge. + +There then they lay, and nought stirred them in the night, and betimes on +the morrow they were afoot, and entered the abovesaid thicket, wherein +two of them, keen hunters, had been aforetime, but had not gone deep into +it. Through this wood they went all day toward the north-east, and met +nought but the wild things therein. At last, when it was near sunset, +they came out of the thicket into a small plain, or shallow dale rather, +with no great trees in it, but thorn-brakes here and there where the +ground sank into hollows; a little river ran through the midst of it, and +winded round about a height whose face toward the river went down sheer +into the water, but away from it sank down in a long slope to where the +thick wood began again: and this height or burg looked well-nigh west. + +Thitherward they went; but as they were drawing nigh to the river, and +were on the top of a bent above a bushy hollow between them and the +water, they espied a man standing in the river near the bank, who saw +them not, because he was stooping down intent on something in the bank or +under it: so they gat them speedily down into the hollow without noise, +that they might get some tidings of the man. + +Then Face-of-god bade his men abide hidden under the bushes and stole +forward quietly up the further bank of the hollow, his target on his arm +and his spear poised. When he was behind the last bush on the top of the +bent he was within half a spear-cast of the water and the man; so he +looked on him and saw that he was quite naked except for a clout about +his middle. + +Face-of-god saw at once that he was not one of the Dusky Men; he was a +black-haired man, but white-skinned, and of fair stature, though not so +tall as the Burgdale folk. He was busied in tickling trouts, and just as +Face-of-god came out from the bush into the westering sunlight, he threw +up a fish on to the bank, and looked up therewithal, and beheld the +weaponed man glittering, and uttered a cry, but fled not when he saw the +spear poised for casting. + +Then Face-of-god spake to him and said: ‘Come hither, Woodsman! we will +not harm thee, but we desire speech of thee: and it will not avail thee +to flee, since I have bowmen of the best in the hollow yonder.’ + +The man put forth his hands towards him as if praying him to forbear +casting, and looked at him hard, and then came dripping from out the +water, and seemed not greatly afeard; for he stooped down and picked up +the trouts he had taken, and came towards Face-of-god stringing the +last-caught one through the gills on to the withy whereon were the +others: and Face-of-god saw that he was a goodly man of some thirty +winters. + +Then Face-of-god looked on him with friendly eyes and said: + +‘Art thou a foemen? or wilt thou be helpful to us?’ + +He answered in the speech of the kindreds with the hoarse voice of a much +weather-beaten man: + +‘Thou seest, lord, that I am naked and unarmed.’ + +‘Yet may’st thou bewray us,’ said Face-of-god. ‘What man art thou?’ + +Said the man: ‘I am the runaway thrall of evil men; I have fled from +Rose-dale and the Dusky Men. Hast thou the heart to hurt me?’ + +‘We are the foemen of the Dusky Men,’ said Face-of-God; ‘wilt thou help +us against them?’ + +The man knit his brows and said: ‘Yea, if ye will give me your word not +to suffer me to fall into their hands alive. But whence art thou, to be +so bold?’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘We are of Burgdale; and I will swear to thee on the +edge of the sword that thou shalt not fall alive into the hands of the +Dusky Men.’ + +‘Of Burgdale have I heard,’ said the man; ‘and in sooth thou seemest not +such a man as would bewray a hapless man. But now had I best bring you +to some lurking-place where ye shall not be easily found of these devils, +who now oft-times scour the woods hereabout.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Come first and see my fellows; and then if thou +thinkest we have need to hide, it is well.’ + +So the man went side by side with him towards their lair, and as they +went Gold-mane noted marks of stripes on his back and sides, and said: +‘Sorely hast thou been mishandled, poor man!’ + +Then the man turned on him and said somewhat fiercely: ‘Said I not that I +had been a thrall of the Dusky Men? how then should I have escaped +tormenting and scourging, if I had been with them for but three days?’ + +As he spake they came about a thorn-bush, and there were the Burgdale men +down in the hollow; and the man said: ‘Are these thy fellows? Call to +mind that thou hast sworn by the edge of the sword not to hurt me.’ + +‘Poor man!’ said Face-of-god; ‘these are thy friends, unless thou +bewrayest us.’ + +Then he cried aloud to his folk: ‘Here is now a good hap! this is a +runaway thrall of the Dusky Men; of him shall we hear tidings; so cherish +him all ye may.’ + +So the carles thronged about him and bestirred themselves to help him, +and one gave him his surcoat for a kirtle, and another cast a cloak about +him; and they brought him meat and drink, such as they had ready to hand: +and the man looked as if he scarce believed in all this, but deemed +himself to be in a dream. But presently he turned to Face-of-god and +said: + +‘Now I see so many men and weapons I deem that ye have no need to skulk +in caves to-night, though I know of good ones: yet shall ye do well not +to light a fire till moon-setting; for the flame ye may lightly hide, but +the smoke may be seen from far aloof.’ + +But they bade him to meat, and he needed no second bidding but ate +lustily, and they gave him wine, and he drank a great draught and sighed +as for joy. Then he said in a trembling voice, as though he feared a +naysay: + +‘If ye are from Burgdale ye shall be faring back again presently; and I +pray you to take me with you.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Yea surely, friend, that will we do, and rejoice in +thee.’ + +Then he drank another cup which Warcliff held out to him, and spake +again: ‘Yet if ye would abide here till about noon to-morrow, or +mayhappen a little later, I would bring other runaways to see you; and +them also might ye take with you: ye may think when ye see them that ye +shall have small gain of their company; for poor wretched folk they be, +like to myself. Yet since ye seek for tidings, herein might they do you +more service than I; for amongst them are some who came out of the +hapless Dale within this moon; and it is six months since I escaped. +Moreover, though they may look spent and outworn now, yet if ye give them +a little rest, and feed them well, they shall yet do many a day’s work +for you: and I tell you that if ye take them for thralls, and put collars +on their necks, and use them no worse than a goodman useth his oxen and +his asses, beating them not save when they are idle or at fault, it shall +be to them as if they were come to heaven out of hell, and to such +goodhap as they have not thought of, save in dreams, for many and many a +day. And thus I entreat you to do because ye seem to me to be happy and +merciful men, who will not begrudge us this happiness.’ + +The carles of Burgdale listened eagerly to what he said, and they looked +at him with great eyes and marvelled; and their hearts were moved with +pity towards him; and Stone-face said: + +‘Herein, O War-leader, need I give thee no rede, for thou mayst see +clearly that all we deem that we should lose our manhood and become the +dastards of the Warrior if we did not abide the coming of these poor men, +and take them back to the Dale, and cherish them.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Wolf of Whitegarth, ‘and great thanks we owe to this man that +he biddeth us this: for great will be the gain to us if we become so like +the Gods that we may deliver the poor from misery. Now must I needs +think how they shall wonder when they come to Burgdale and find out how +happy it is to dwell there.’ + +‘Surely,’ said Face-of-god, ‘thus shall we do, whatever cometh of it. +But, friend of the wood, as to thralls, there be none such in the Dale, +but therein are all men friends and neighbours, and even so shall ye be.’ + +And he fell a-musing, when he bethought him of how little he had known of +sorrow. + +But that man, when he beheld the happy faces of the Burgdalers, and +hearkened to their friendly voices, and understood what they said, and he +also was become strong with the meat and drink, he bowed his head adown +and wept a long while; and they meddled not with him, till he turned +again to them and said: + +‘Since ye are in arms, and seem to be seeking your foemen, I suppose ye +wot that these tyrants and man-quellers will fall upon you in Burgdale +ere the summer is well worn.’ + +‘So much we deem indeed,’ said Face-of-god, ‘but we were fain to hear the +certainty of it, and how thou knowest thereof.’ + +Said the man: ‘It was six moons ago that I fled, as I have told you; and +even then it was the common talk amongst our masters that there were fair +dales to the south which they would overrun. Man would say to man: We +were over many in Silver-dale, and we needed more thralls, because those +we had were lessening, and especially the women; now are we more at ease +in Rose-dale, though we have sent thralls to Silver-dale; but yet we can +bear no more men from thence to eat up our stock from us: let them fare +south to the happy dales, and conquer them, and we will go with them and +help therein, whether we come back to Rose-dale or no. Such talk did I +hear then with mine own ears: but some of those whom I shall bring to you +to-morrow shall know better what is doing, since they have fled from +Rose-dale but a few days. Moreover, there is a man and a woman who have +fled from Silver-dale itself, and are but a month from it, journeying all +the time save when they must needs hide; and these say that their masters +have got to know the way to Burgdale, and are minded for it before the +winter, as I said; and nought else but the ways thither do they desire to +know, since they have no fear.’ + +By then was night come, and though the moon was high in heaven, and +lighted all that waste, the Burgdalers must needs light a fire for +cooking their meat, whatsoever that woodsman might say; moreover, the +night was cold and somewhat frosty. A little before they had come to +that place they had shot a fat buck and some smaller deer, but of other +meat they had no great store, though there was wine enough. So they lit +their fire in the thickest of the thorn-bush to hide it all they might, +and thereat they cooked their venison and the trouts which the runaway +had taken, and they fell to, and ate and drank and were merry, making +much of that poor man till him-seemed he was gotten into the company of +the kindest of the Gods. + +But when they were full, Face-of-god spake to him, and asked him his +name; and he named himself Dallach; but said he: ‘Lord, this is according +to the naming of men in Rose-dale before we were enthralled: but now what +names have thralls? Also I am not altogether of the blood of them of +Rose-dale, but of better and more warrior-like kin.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Thou hast named Silver-dale; knowest thou it?’ + +Dallach answered: ‘I have never seen it. It is far hence; in a week’s +journey, making all diligence, and not being forced to hide and skulk +like those runaways, ye shall come to the mouth thereof lying west, where +its rock-walls fall off toward the plain.’ + +‘But,’ said Face-of-god, ‘is there no other way into that Dale?’ + +‘Nay, none that folk wot of,’ said Dallach, ‘except to bold cragsmen with +their lives in their hands.’ + +‘Knowest thou aught of the affairs of Silver-dale?’ said Face-of-god. + +Said Dallach: ‘Somewhat I know: we wot that but a few years ago there was +a valiant folk dwelling therein, who were lords of the whole dale, and +that they were vanquished by the Dusky Men: but whether they were all +slain and enthralled we wot not; but we deem it otherwise. As for me it +is of their blood that I am partly come; for my father’s father came +thence to settle in Rose-dale, and wedded a woman of the Dale, who was my +father’s mother.’ + +‘When was it that ye fell under the Dusky Men?’ said Face-of-god. + +Said Dallach: ‘It was five years ago. They came into the Dale a great +company, all in arms.’ + +‘Was there battle betwixt you?’ said Face-of-god. + +‘Alas! not so,’ said Dallach. ‘We were a happy folk there; but soft and +delicate: for the Dale is exceeding fertile, and beareth wealth in +abundance, both corn and oil and wine and fruit, and of beasts for man’s +service the best that may be. Would that there had been battle, and that +I had died therein with those that had a heart to fight; and even so +saith now every man, yea, every woman in the Dale. But it was not so +when the elders met in our Council-House on the day when the Dusky Men +bade us pay them tribute and give them houses to dwell in and lands to +live by. Then had we weapons in our hands, but no hearts to use them.’ + +‘What befell then?’ said the goodman of Whitegarth. + +Said Dallach: ‘Look ye to it, lords, that it befall not in Burgdale! We +gave them all they asked for, and deemed we had much left. What befell, +sayst thou? We sat quiet; we went about our work in fear and trembling, +for grim and hideous were they to look on. At first they meddled not +much with us, save to take from our houses what they would of meat and +drink, or raiment, or plenishing. And all this we deemed we might bear, +and that we needed no more than to toil a little more each day so as to +win somewhat more of wealth. But soon we found that it would not be so; +for they had no mind to till the teeming earth or work in the acres we +had given them, or to sit at the loom, or hammer in the stithy, or do any +manlike work; it was we that must do all that for their behoof, and it +was altogether for them that we laboured, and nought for ourselves; and +our bodies were only so much our own as they were needful to be kept +alive for labour. Herein were our tasks harder than the toil of any +mules or asses, save for the younger and goodlier of the women, whom they +would keep fair and delicate to be their bed-thralls. + +‘Yet not even so were our bodies safe from their malice: for these men +were not only tyrants, but fools and madmen. Let alone that there were +few days without stripes and torments to satiate their fury or their +pleasure, so that in all streets and nigh any house might you hear +wailing and screaming and groaning; but moreover, though a wise man would +not willingly slay his own thrall any more than his own horse or ox, yet +did these men so wax in folly and malice, that they would often hew at +man or woman as they met them in the way from mere grimness of soul; and +if they slew them it was well. Thereof indeed came quarrels enough +betwixt master and master, for they are much given to man-slaying amongst +themselves: but what profit to us thereof? Nay, if the dead man were a +chieftain, then woe betide the thralls! for thereof must many an one be +slain on his grave-mound to serve him on the hell-road. To be short: we +have heard of men who be fierce, and men who be grim; but these we may +scarce believe us to be men at all, but trolls rather; and ill will it be +if their race waxeth in the world.’ + +The Burgdale men hearkened with all their ears, and wondered that such +things could befall; and they rejoiced at the work that lay before them, +and their hearts rose high at the thought of battle in that behalf, and +the fame that should come of it. As for the runaway, they made so much +of him that the man marvelled; for they dealt with him like a woman +cherishing a son, and knew not how to be kind enough to him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. THE MEN OF BURGDALE MEET THE RUNAWAYS. + + +NOW ere the night was far spent, Dallach arose and said: + +‘Kind folk, ye will presently be sleeping; but I bid you keep a good +watch, and if ye will be ruled by me, ye will kindle no fire on the +morrow, for the smoke riseth thick in the morning air, and is as a +beacon. As for me, I shall leave you here to rest, and I myself will +fare on mine errand.’ + +They bade him sleep and rest him after so many toils and hardships, +saying that they were not tied to an hour to be back in Burgdale; but he +said: ‘Nay, the moon is high, and it is as good as daylight to me, who +could find my way even by starlight; and your tarrying here is nowise +safe. Moreover, if I could find those folk and bring them part of the +way by night and cloud it were well; for if we were taken again, burning +quick would be the best death by which we should die. As for me, now am +I strong with meat and drink and hope; and when I come to Burgdale there +will be time enough for resting and slumber.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Shall I not wend with thee to see these people and the +lairs wherein they hide?’ + +The man smiled: ‘Nay, earl,’ said he, ‘that shall not be. For wot ye +what? If they were to see me in company of a man-at-arms they would deem +that I was bringing the foe upon them, and would flee, or mayhappen would +fall upon us. For as for me, when I saw thee, thou wert close anigh me, +so I knew thee to be no Dusky Man; but they would see the glitter of +thine arms from afar, and to them all weaponed men are foemen. Thou, +lord, knowest not the heart of a thrall, nor the fear and doubt that is +in it. Nay, I myself must cast off these clothes that ye have given me, +and fare naked, lest they mistrust me. Only I will take a spear in my +hand, and sling a knife round my neck, if ye will give them to me; for if +the worst happen, I will not be taken alive.’ + +Therewith he cast off his raiment, and they gave him the weapons and +wished him good speed, and he went his way twixt moonlight and shadow; +but the Burgdalers went to sleep when they had set a watch. + +Early in the morning they awoke, and the sun was shining and the thrushes +singing in the thorn-brake, and all seemed fair and peaceful, and a +little haze still hung about the face of the burg over the river. So +they went down to the water and washed the night from off them; and +thence the most part of them went back to their lair among the +thorn-bushes: but four of them went up the dale into the oak-wood to +shoot a buck, and five more they sent out to watch their skirts around +them; and Face-of-god with old Stone-face went over a ford of the stream, +and came on to the lower slope of the burg, and so went up it to the top. +Thence they looked about to see if aught were stirring, but they saw +little save the waste and the wood, which on the north-east was thick of +big trees stretching out a long way. Their own lair was clear to see +over its bank and the bushes thereof, and that misliked Face-of-god, lest +any foe should climb the burg that day. The morning was clear, and +Face-of-god looking north-and-by-west deemed he saw smoke rising into the +air over the tree-covered ridges that hid the further distance toward +that aírt, though further east uphove the black shoulders of the Great +that Waste and the snowy peaks behind them. The said smoke was not such +as cometh from one great fire, but was like a thin veil staining the pale +blue sky, as when men are burning ling on the heath-side and it is seen +aloof. + +He showed that smoke to Stone-face, who smiled and said: + +‘Now will they be lighting the cooking fires in Rose-dale: would I were +there with a few hundreds of axes and staves at my back!’ + +‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, smiling in his face, ‘but where I pray thee are +these elves and wood-wights, that we meet them not? Grim things there +are in the woods, and things fair enough also: but meseemeth that the +trolls and the elves of thy young years have been frighted away.’ + +Said Stone-face: ‘Maybe, foster-son; that hath been seen ere now, that +when one race of man overrunneth the land inhabited by another, the +wights and elves that love the vanquished are seen no more, or get them +away far off into the outermost wilds, where few men ever come.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, ‘that may well be. But deemest thou by that +token that we shall be vanquished?’ + +‘As for us, I know not,’ said Stone-face; ‘but thy friends of Shadowy +Vale have been vanquished. Moreover, concerning these felons whom now we +are hunting, are we all so sure that they be men? Certain it is, that +when I go into battle with them, I shall smite with no more pity than my +sword, as if I were smiting things that may not feel the woes of man.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Yea, even so shall it be with me. But what thinkest +thou of these runaways? Shall we have tidings of them, or shall Dallach +bring the foe upon us? It was for the sake of that question that I have +clomb the burg: and that we might watch the land about us.’ + +‘Nay,’ said Stone-face, ‘I have seen many men, and I deem of Dallach that +he is a true man. I deem we shall soon have tidings of his fellows; and +they may have seen the elves and wood-wights: I would fain ask them +thereof, and am eager to see them.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘And I somewhat dread to see them, and their rags and +their misery and the weals of their stripes. It irked me to see Dallach +when he first fell to his meat last night, how he ate like a dog for fear +and famine. How shall it be, moreover, when we have them in the Dale, +and they fall to the deed of kind there, as they needs must. Will they +not bear us evil and thrall-like men?’ + +‘Maybe,’ said Stone-face, ‘and maybe not; for they have been thralls but +for a little while: and I deem that in no long time shall ye see them +much bettered by plenteous meat and rest. And after all is said, this +Dallach bore him like a valiant man; also it was valiant of him to flee; +and of the others may ye say the like. But look you! there are men going +down yonder towards our lair: belike those shall be our guests, and there +be no Dusky Men amongst them. Come, let us home!’ + +So Face-of-god looked and beheld from the height of the burg shapes of +men grey and colourless creeping toward the lair from sunshine to shadow, +like wild creatures shy and fearful of the hunter, or so he deemed of +them. + +So he turned away, angry and sad of heart, and the twain went down the +burg and across the water to their camp, having seen little to tell of +from the height. + +When they came to their campment there were their folk standing in a ring +round about Dallach and the other runaways. They made way for the +War-leader and Stone-face, who came amongst them and beheld the Runaways, +that they were many more than they looked to see; for they were of carles +one score and three, and of women eighteen, all told save Dallach. When +they saw those twain come through the ring of men and perceived that they +were chieftains, some of them fell down on their knees before them and +held out their joined hands to them, and kissed the Burgdalers’ feet and +the hems of their garments, while the tears streamed out of their eyes: +some stood moving little and staring before them stupidly: and some kept +glancing from face to face of the well-liking happy Burgdale carles, +though for a while even their faces were sad and downcast at the sight of +the poor men: some also kept murmuring one or two words in their country +tongue, and Dallach told Face-of-god that these were crying out for +victual. + +It must be said of these poor folk that they were of divers conditions, +and chiefly of three: and first there were seven of Rose-dale and five of +Silver-dale late come to the wood (of these Silver-dalers Dallach had +told but of two, for the other three were but just come). Of these +twelve were seven women, and all, save two of the women, were clad in one +scanty kirtle or shirt only; for such was the wont of the Dusky Men with +their thralls. They had brought away weapons, and had amongst them six +axes and a spear, and a sword, and five knives, and one man had a shield. + +Yet though these were clad and armed, yet in some wise were they the +worst of all; they were so timorous and cringing, and most of them +heavy-eyed and sullen and down-looking. Many of them had been grievously +mishandled: one man had had his left hand smitten off; another was docked +of three of his toes, and the gristle of his nose slit up; one was halt, +and four had been ear-cropped, nor did any lack weals of whipping. Of +the Silver-dale new-comers the three men were the worst of all the +Runaways, with wild wandering eyes, but sullen also, and cringing if any +drew nigh, and would not look anyone in the face, save presently +Face-of-god, on whom they were soon fond to fawn, as a dog on his master. +But the women who were with them, and who were well-nigh as timorous as +the men, were those two gaily-dad ones, and they were soft-handed and +white-skinned, save for the last days of weather in the wood; for they +had been bed-thralls of the Dusky Men. + +Such were the new-comers to the wood. But others had been, like Dallach, +months therein; it may be said that there were eighteen of these, carles +and queens together. Little raiment they had amongst them, and some were +all but stark naked, so that on these might well be seen as on Dallach +the marks of old stripes, and of these also were there men who had been +shorn of some member or other, and they were all burnt and blackened by +the weather of the woodland; yet for all their nakedness, they bore +themselves bolder and more manlike than the later comers, nor did they +altogether lack weapons taken from their foemen, and most of them had +some edge-tool or another. Of these folk were four from Silver-dale, +though Dallach knew it not. + +Besides these were a half score and one who had been years in the wood +instead of months; weather-beaten indeed were these, shaggy and +rough-skinned like wild men of kind. Some of them had made themselves +skin breeches or clouts, some went stark naked; of weapons of the Dale +had they few, but they bore bows of hazel or wych-elm strung with +deer-gut, and shafts headed with flint stones; staves also of the same +fashion, and great clubs of oak or holly: some of them also had made them +targets of skin and willow-twigs, for these were the warriors of the +Runaways: they had a few steel knives amongst them, but had mostly +learned the craft of using sharp flints for knives: but four of these +were women. + +Three of these men were of the kindreds of the Wolf from Silver-dale, and +had been in the wood for hard upon ten years, and wild as they were, and +without hope of meeting their fellows again, they went proudly and boldly +amongst the others, overtopping them by the head and more. For the +greater part of these men were somewhat short of stature, though by +nature strong and stout of body. + +It must be told that though Dallach had thus gotten all these many +Runaways together, yet had they not been dwelling together as one folk; +for they durst not, lest the Dusky Men should hear thereof and fall upon +them, but they had kept themselves as best they could in caves and in +brakes three together or two, or even faring alone as Dallach did: only +as he was a strong and stout-hearted man, he went to and fro and wandered +about more than the others, so that he foregathered with most of them and +knew them. He said also that he doubted not but that there were more +Runaways in the wood, but these were all he could come at. Divers who +had fled had died from time to time, and some had been caught and cruelly +slain by their masters. They were none of them old; the oldest, said +Dallach, scant of forty winters, though many from their aspect might have +been old enough. + +So Face-of-god looked and beheld all these poor people; and said to +himself, that he might well have dreaded that sight. For here was he +brought face to face with the Sorrow of the Earth, whereof he had known +nought heretofore, save it might be as a tale in a minstrel’s song. And +when he thought of the minutes that had made the hours, and the hours +that had made the days that these men had passed through, his heart +failed him, and he was dumb and might not speak, though he perceived that +the men of Burgdale looked for speech from him; but he waved his hand to +his folk, and they understood him, for they had heard Dallach say that +some of them were crying for victual. So they set to work and dighted +for them such meat as they had, and they set them down on the grass and +made themselves their carvers and serving-men, and bade them eat what +they would of such as there was. Yet, indeed, it grieved the Burgdalers +again to note how these folk were driven to eat; for they themselves, +though they were merry folk, were exceeding courteous at table, and of +great observance of manners: whereas these poor Runaways ate, some of +them like hungry dogs, and some hiding their meat as if they feared it +should be taken from them, and some cowering over it like falcons, and +scarce any with a manlike pleasure in their meal. And, their eating +over, the more part of them sat dull and mopish, and as if all things +were forgotten for the time present. + +Albeit presently Dallach bestirred him and said to Face-of-god: ‘Lord of +the Earl-folk, if I might give thee rede, it were best to turn your faces +to Burgdale without more tarrying. For we are over-nigh to Rose-dale, +being but thus many in company. But when we come to our next +resting-place, then shall bring thee to speech with the last-comers from +Silver-dale; for there they talk with the tongue of the kindreds; but we +of Rose-dale for the more part talk otherwise; though in my house it came +down from father to son.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, gazing still on that unhappy folk, as they sat +or lay upon the grass at rest for a little while: but him-seemed as he +gazed that some memories of past time stirred in some of them; for some, +they hung their heads and the tears stole out of their eyes and rolled +down their cheeks. But those older Runaways of Silver-dale were not +crouched down like most of the others, but strode up and down like beasts +in a den; yet were the tears on the face of one of these. Then +Face-of-god constrained himself, and spake to the folk, and said: ‘We are +now over-nigh to our foes of Rose-dale to lie here any longer, being too +few to fall upon them. We will come hither again with a host when we +have duly questioned these men who have sought refuge with us: and let us +call yonder height the Burg of the Runaways, and it shall be a landmark +for us when we are on the road to Rose-dale.’ + +Then the Burgdalers bade the Runaways courteously and kindly to arise and +take the road with them; and by that time were their men all come in; and +four of them had venison with them, which was needful, if they were to +eat that night or the morrow, as the guests had eaten them to the bone. + +So they tarried no more, but set out on the homeward way; and Face-of-god +bade Dallach walk beside him, and asked him such concerning Rose-dale and +its Dusky Men. Dallach told him that these were not so many as they were +masterful, not being above eight hundreds of men, all fighting-men. As +to women, they had none of their own race, but lay with the Daleswomen at +their will, and begat children of them; and all or most of the said +children favoured the race of their begetters. Of the men-children they +reared most, but the women-children they slew at once; for they valued +not women of their own blood: but besides the women of the Dale, they +would go at whiles in bands to the edges of the Plain and beguile +wayfarers, and bring back with them thence women to be their bed-thralls; +albeit some of these were bought with a price from the Westland men. + +As to the number of the folk of Rose-dale, its own folk, he said they +would number some five thousand souls, one with another; of whom some +thousand might be fit to bear arms if they had the heart thereto, as they +had none. Yet being closely questioned, he deemed that they might fall +on their masters from behind, if battle were joined. + +He said that the folk of Rose-dale had been a goodly folk before they +were enthralled, and peaceable with one another, but that now it was a +sport of the Dusky Men to set a match between their thralls to fight it +out with sword and buckler or otherwise; and the vanquished man, if he +were not sore hurt, they would scourge, or shear some member from him, or +even slay him outright, if the match between the owners were so made. +And many other sad and grievous tales he told to Face-of-god, more than +need be told again; so that the War-leader went along sorry and angry, +with his teeth set, and his hand on the sword-hilt. + +Thus they went till night fell on them, and they could scarce see the +signs they had made on their outward journey. Then they made stay in a +little valley, having set a watch duly; and since they were by this time +far from Rose-dale, and were a great company as regarded scattered bands +of the foe, they lighted their fires and cooked their venison, and made +good cheer to the Runaways, and so went to sleep in the wild-wood. + +When morning was come they gat them at once to the road; and if the +Burgdalers were eager to be out of the wood, their eagerness was as +nought to the eagerness of the Runaways, most of whom could not be easy +now, and deemed every minute lost unless they were wending on to the +Dale; so that this day they were willing to get over the more ground, +whereas they had not set out on their road till afternoon yesterday. + +Howsoever, they rested at noontide, and Face-of-god bade Dallach bring +him to speech with others of the Runaways, and first that he might talk +with those three men of the kindreds who had fled from Silver-dale in +early days. So Dallach brought them to him; but he found that though +they spake the tongue, they were so few-spoken from wildness and +loneliness, at least at first, that nought could come from them that was +not dragged from them. + +These men said that they had been in the wood more than nine years, so +that they knew but little of the conditions of the Dale in that present +day. However, as to what Dallach had said concerning the Dusky Men, they +strengthened his words; and they said that the Dusky Men took no delight +save in beholding torments and misery, and that they doubted if they were +men or trolls. They said that since they had dwelt in the wood they had +slain not a few of the foemen, waylaying them as occasion served, but +that in this warfare they had lost two of their fellows. When +Face-of-god asked them of their deeming of the numbers of the Dusky Men, +they said that before those bands had broken into Rose-dale, they counted +them, as far as they could call to mind, at about three thousand men, all +warriors; and that somewhat less than one thousand had gone up into +Rose-dale, and some had died, and many had been cast away in the +wild-wood, their fellows knew not how. Yet had not their numbers in +Silver-dale diminished; because two years after they (the speakers) had +fled, came three more Dusky Companies or Tribes into Silver-dale, and +each of these tribes was of three long hundreds; and with their coming +had the cruelty and misery much increased in the Dale, so that the +thralls began to die fast; and that drave the Dusky Men beyond the +borders of Silver-dale, so that they fell upon Rose-dale. When asked how +many of the kindreds might yet be abiding in Silver-dale, their faces +clouded, and they seemed exceeding wroth, and answered, that they would +willingly hope that most of those that had not been slain at the time of +the overthrow were now dead, yet indeed they feared there were yet some +alive, and mayhappen not a few women. + +By then must they get on foot again, and so the talk fell between them; +but when they made stay for the night, after they had done their meat, +Face-of-god prayed Dallach bring to him some of the latest-come folk from +Silver-dale, and he brought to him the man and the woman who had been in +the Dale within that moon. As to the man, if those of the Earl-folk had +been few-spoken from fierceness and wildness, he was no less so from mere +dulness and weariness of misery; but the woman’s tongue went glibly +enough, and it seemed to pleasure her to talk about her past miseries. +As aforesaid, she was better clad than most of those of Rose-dale, and +indeed might be called gaily clad, and where her raiment was befouled or +rent, it was from the roughness of the wood and its weather, and not from +the thralldom. She was a young and fair woman, black-haired and +grey-eyed. She had washed herself that day in a woodland stream which +they had crossed on the road, and had arrayed her garments as trimly as +she might, and had plucked some fumitory, wherewith she had made a +garland for her head. She sat down on the grass in front of Face-of-god, +while the man her mate stood leaning against a tree and looked on her +greedily. The Burgdale carles drew near to her to hearken her story, and +looked kindly on the twain. She smiled on them, but especially on +Face-of-god, and said: + +‘Thou hast sent for me, lord, and I wot well thou wouldst hear my tale +shortly, for it would be long to tell if I were to tell it fully, and +bring into it all that I have endured, which has been bitter enough, for +all that ye see me smooth of skin and well-liking of body. I have been +the bed-thrall of one of the chieftains of the Dusky Men, at whose house +many of their great men would assemble, so that ye may ask me whatso ye +will; as I have heard much talk and may call it to mind. Now if ye ask +me whether I have fled because of the shame that I, a free woman come of +free folk, should be a mere thrall in the bed of the foes of my kin, and +with no price paid for me, I must needs say it is not so; since over long +have we of the Dale been thralls to be ashamed of such a matter. And +again, if ye deem that I have fled because I have been burdened with +grievous toil and been driven thereto by the whip, ye may look on my +hands and my body and ye will see that I have toiled little therewith: +nor again did I flee because I could not endure a few stripes now and +again; for such usage do thralls look for, even when they are delicately +kept for the sake of the fairness of their bodies, and this they may well +endure; yea also, and the mere fear of death by torment now and again. +But before me lay death both assured and horrible; so I took mine own +counsel, and told none for fear of bewrayal, save him who guarded me; and +that was this man; who fled not from fear, but from love of me, and to +him I have given all that I might give. So we got out of the house and +down the Dale by night and cloud, and hid for one whole day in the Dale +itself, where I trembled and feared, so that I deemed I should die of +fear; but this man was well pleased with my company, and with the lack of +toil and beating even for the day. And in the night again we fled and +reached the wild-wood before dawn, and well-nigh fell into the hands of +those who were hunting us, and had outgone us the day before, as we lay +hid. Well, what is to say? They saw us not, else had we not been here, +but scattered piece-meal over the land. This carle knew the passes of +the wood, because he had followed his master therein, who was a great +hunter in the wastes, contrary to the wont of these men, and he had lain +a night on the burg yonder; therefore he brought me thither, because he +knew that thereabout was plenty of prey easy to take, and he had a bow +with him; and there we fell in with others of our folk who had fled +before, and with Dallach; who e’en now told us what was hard to believe, +that there was a fair young man like one of the Gods leading a band of +goodly warriors, and seeking for us to bring us into a peaceful and happy +land; and this man would not have gone with him because he feared that he +might fall into thralldom of other folk, who would take me away from him; +but for me, I said I would go in any case, for I was weary of the wood +and its roughness and toil, and that if I had a new master he would +scarcely be worse than my old one was at his best, and him I could +endure. So I went, and glad and glad I am, whatever ye will do with me. +And now will I answer whatso ye may ask of me.’ + +She laid her limbs together daintily and looked fondly on Face-of-god, +and the carle scowled at her somewhat at first, but presently, as he +watched her, his face smoothed itself out of its wrinkles. + +But Face-of-god pondered a little while, and then asked the woman if she +had heard any words to remember of late days concerning the affairs of +the Dusky Men and their intent; and he said: + +‘I pray thee, sister, be truthful in thine answer, for somewhat lieth on +it.’ + +She said: ‘How could I speak aught but the sooth to thee, O lovely lord? +The last word spoken hereof I mind me well: for my master had been +mishandling me, and I was sullen to him after the smart, and he mocked +and jeered me, and said: Ye women deem we cannot do without you, but ye +are fools, and know nothing; we are going to conquer a new land where the +women are plenty, and far fairer than ye be; and we shall leave you to +fare afield like the other thralls, or work in the digging of silver; and +belike ye wot what that meaneth. Also he said that they would leave us +to the new tribe of their folk, far wilder than they, whom they looked +for in the Dale in about a moon’s wearing; so that they needs must seek +to other lands. Also this same talk would we hear whenever it pleased +any of them to mock us their bed-thralls. Now, my sweet lord, this is +nought but the very sooth.’ + +Again spake Face-of-god after a while: + +‘Tell me, sister, hast thou heard of any of the Dusky Men being slain in +the wood?’ + +‘Yea,’ she said, and turned pale therewith and caught her breath as one +choking; but said in a little while: + +‘This alone was it hard for me to tell thee amongst all the I griefs I +have borne, whereof I might have told thee many tales, and will do one +day if thou wilt suffer it; but fear makes this hard for me. For in very +sooth this was the cause of my fleeing, that my master was brought in +slain by an arrow in the wood; and he was to be borne to bale and burned +in three days’ wearing; and we three bed-thralls of his, and three of the +best of the men-thralls, were to be burned quick on his bale-fire after +sore torments; therefore I fled, and hid a knife in my bosom, that I +might not be taken alive; but sweet was life to me, and belike I should +not have smitten myself.’ + +And she wept sore for pity of herself before them all. But Face-of-god +said: + +‘Knowest thou, sister, by whom the man was slain?’ + +‘Nay,’ she said, still sobbing; ‘but I heard nought thereof, nor had I +noted it in my terror. The death of others, who were slain before him, +and the loss of many, we knew not how, made them more bitterly cruel with +us.’ + +And again was she weeping; but Face-of-god said kindly to her: ‘Weep no +more, sister, for now shall all thy troubles be over; I feel in my heart +that we shall overcome these felons, and make an end of them, and there +then is Burgdale for thee in its length and breadth, or thine own Dale to +dwell in freely.’ + +‘Nay,’ she said, ‘never will I go back thither!’ and she turned round to +him and kissed his feet, and then arose and turned a little toward her +mate; and the carle caught her by the hand and led her away, and seemed +glad so to do. + +So once again they fell asleep in the woods, and again the next morning +fared on their way early that they might come into Burgdale before +nightfall. When they stayed a while at noontide and ate, Face-of-god +again had talk with the Runaways, and this time with those of Rose-dale, +and he heard much the same story from them that he had heard before, told +in divers ways, till his heart was sick with the hearing of it. + +On this last day Face-of-god led his men well athwart the wood, so that +he hit Wildlake’s Way without coming to Carl-stead; and he came down into +the Dale some four hours after noon on a bright day of latter March. At +the ingate to the Dale he found watches set, the men whereof told him +that the tidings were not right great. Hall-face’s company had fallen in +with a band of the Felons three score in number in the oak-wood nigh to +Boars-bait, and had slain some and chased the rest, since they found it +hard to follow them home as they ran for the tangled thicket: of the +Burgdalers had two been slain and five hurt in this battle. + +As for Red-coat’s company, they had fallen in with no foemen. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. THEY BRING THE RUNAWAYS TO BURGSTEAD. + + +SO now being out of the wood, they went peaceably and safely along the +Portway, the Runaways mingling with the Dalesmen. Strange showed amidst +the health and wealth of the Dale the rags and misery and nakedness of +the thralls, like a dream amidst the trim gaiety of spring; and +whomsoever they met, or came up with on the road, whatso his business +might be, could not refrain himself from following them, but mingled with +the men-at-arms, and asked them of the tidings; and when they heard who +these poor people were, even delivered thralls of the Foemen, they were +glad at heart and cried out for joy; and many of the women, nay, of the +men also, when they first came across that misery from out the heart of +their own pleasant life, wept for pity and love of the poor folk, now at +last set free, and blessed the swords that should do the like by the +whole people. + +They went slowly as men began to gather about them; yea, some of the good +folk that lived hard by must needs fare home to their houses to fetch +cakes and wine for the guests; and they made them sit down and rest on +the green grass by the side of the Portway, and eat and drink to cheer +their hearts; others, women and young swains, while they rested went down +into the meadows and plucked of the spring flowers, and twined them +hastily with deft and well-wont fingers into chaplets and garlands for +their heads and bodies. Thus indeed they covered their nakedness, till +the lowering faces and weather-beaten skins of those hardly-entreated +thralls looked grimly out from amidst the knots of cowslip and oxlip, and +the branches of the milk-white blackthorn bloom, and the long trumpets of +the daffodils, of the hue that wrappeth round the quill which the webster +takes in hand when she would pleasure her soul with the sight of the +yellow growing upon the dark green web. + +So they went on again as the evening was waning, and when they were +gotten within a furlong of the Gate, lo! there was come the minstrelsy, +the pipe and the tabor, the fiddle and the harp, and the folk that had +learned to sing the sweetest, both men and women, and Redesman at the +head of them all. + +Then fell the throng into an ordered company; first went the music, and +then a score of Face-of-god’s warriors with drawn swords and uplifted +spears; and then the flower-bedecked misery of the Runaways, men and +women going together, gaunt, befouled, and hollow-eyed, with here and +there a flushed cheek or gleaming eye, or tear-bedewed face, as the joy +and triumph of the eve pierced through their wonted weariness of grief; +then the rest of the warriors, and lastly the mingled crowd of Dalesfolk, +tall men and fair women gaily arrayed, clean-faced, clear-skinned, and +sleek-haired, with glancing eyes and ruddy lips. + +And now Redesman turned about to the music and drew his bow across his +fiddle, and the other bows ran out in concert, and the harps followed the +story of them, and he lifted up his voice and sang the words of an old +song, and all the singers joined him and blended their voices with his. +And these are some of the words which they sang: + + Lo! here is Spring, and all we are living, + We that were wan with Winter’s fear; + Reach out your hands to her hands that are giving, + Lest ye lose her love and the light of the year. + + Many a morn did we wake to sorrow, + When low on the land the cloud-wrath lay; + Many an eve we feared to-morrow, + The unbegun unfinished day. + + Ah we—we hoped not, and thou wert tardy; + Nought wert thou helping; nought we prayed. + Where was the eager heart, the hardy? + Where was the sweet-voiced unafraid? + + But now thou lovest, now thou leadest, + Where is gone the grief of our minds? + What was the word of the tale, that thou heedest + E’en as the breath of the bygone winds? + + Green and green is thy garment growing + Over thy blossoming limbs beneath; + Up o’er our feet rise the blades of thy sowing, + Pierced are our hearts with thine odorous breath. + + But where art thou wending, thou new-comer? + Hurrying on to the Courts of the Sun? + Where art thou now in the House of the Summer? + Told are thy days and thy deed is done. + + Spring has been here for us that are living + After the days of Winter’s fear; + Here in our hands is the wealth of her giving, + The Love of the Earth, and the Light of the Year. + +Thus came they to the Gate, and lo! the Bride thereby, leaning against a +buttress, gazing with no dull eyes at the coming throng. She was now +clad in her woman’s attire again, to wit a light flame-coloured gown over +a green kirtle; but she yet bore a gilded helm on her head and a sword +girt to her side in token of her oath to the God. She had been in +Hall-face’s company in that last battle, and had done a man’s service +there, fighting very valiantly, but had not been hurt, and had come back +to Burgstead when the shift of men was. + +Now she drew herself up and stood a little way before the Gate and looked +forth on the throng, and when her eyes beheld the Runaways amidst of the +weaponed carles of Burgdale, her face flushed, and her eyes filled with +tears as she stood, partly wondering, partly deeming what they were. She +waited till Stone-face came by her, and then she took the old man by the +sleeve, and drew him apart a little and said to him: ‘What meaneth this +show, my friend? Who hath clad these folk thus strangely; and who be +these three naked tall ones, so fierce-looking, but somewhat noble of +aspect?’ + +For indeed those three men of the kindreds, when they had gotten into the +Dale, and had rested them, and drunk a cup of wine, and when they had +seen the chaplets and wreaths of the spring-flowers wherewith they were +bedecked, and had smelt the sweet savour of them, fell to walking +proudly, heeding not their nakedness; for no rag had they upon them save +breech-clouts of deer-skin: they had changed weapons with the Burgdale +carles; and one had gotten a great axe, which he bore over his shoulder, +and the shaft thereof was all done about with copper; and another had +shouldered a long heavy thrusting-spear, and the third, an exceeding tall +man, bore a long broad-bladed war-sword. Thus they went, brown of skin +beneath their flower-garlands, their long hair bleached by the sun +falling about their shoulders; high they strode amongst the shuffling +carles and tripping women of the later-come thralls. But when they heard +the music, and saw that they were coming to the Gate in triumph, strange +thoughts of old memories swelled up in their hearts, and they refrained +them not from weeping, for they felt that the joy of life had come back +to them. + +Nor must it be deemed that these were the only ones amongst the Runaways +whose hearts were cheered and softened: already were many of them coming +back to life, as they felt their worn bodies caressed by the clear soft +air of Burgdale, and the sweetness of the flowers that hung about them, +and saw all round about the kind and happy faces of their well-willers. + +So Stone-face looked on the Bride as she stood with face yet +tear-bedewed, awaiting his answer, and said: + +‘Daughter, thou sayest who clad these folk thus? It was misery that hath +so dight them; and they are the images of what we shall be if we love +foul life better than fair death, and so fall into the hands of the +Felons, who were the masters of these men. As for the tall naked men, +they are of our own blood, and kinsmen to Face-of-god’s new friends; and +they are of the best of the vanquished: it was in early days that they +fled from thralldom; as we may have to do. Now, daughter, I bid thee be +as joyous as thou art valiant, and then shall all be well.’ + +Therewith she smiled on him, and he departed, and she stood a little +while, as the throng moved on and was swallowed by the Gate, and looked +after them; and for all her pity for the other folk, she thought chiefly +of those fearless tall men who were of the blood of those with whom it +was lawful to wed. + +There she stood as the wind dried the tears upon her cheeks, thinking of +the sorrow which these folk had endured, and their stripes and mocking, +their squalor and famine; and she wondered and looked on her own fair and +shapely hands with the precious finger-rings thereon, and on the dainty +cloth and trim broidery of her sleeve; and she touched her smooth cheek +with the back of her hand, and smiled, and felt the spring sweet in her +mouth, and its savour goodly in her nostrils; and therewith she called to +mind the aspect of her lovely body, as whiles she had seen it imaged, all +its full measure, in the clear pool at midsummer, or piece-meal, in the +shining steel of the Westland mirror. She thought also with what joy she +drew the breath of life, yea, even amidst of grief, and of how sweet and +pure and well-nurtured she was, and how well beloved of many friends and +the whole folk, and she set all this beside those woeful bodies and +lowering faces, and felt shame of her sorrow of heart, and the pain it +had brought to her; and ever amidst shame and pity of all that misery +rose up before her the images of those tall fierce men, and it seemed to +her as if she had seen something like to them in some dream or +imagination of her mind. + +So came the Burgdalers and their guests into the street of Burgstead +amidst music and singing; and the throng was great there. Then +Face-of-god bade make a ring about the strangers, and they did so, and he +and the Runaways alone were in the midst of it; and he spake in a loud +voice and said: + +‘Men of the Dale and the Burg, these folk whom here ye see in such a +sorry plight are they whom our deadly foes have rejoiced to torment; let +us therefore rejoice to cherish them. Now let those men come forth who +deem that they have enough and more, so that they may each take into +their houses some two or three of these friends such as would be fain to +be together. And since I am War-leader, and have the right hereto, I +will first choose them whom I will lead into the House of the Face. And +lo you! will I have this man (and he laid his hand on Dallach),who is he +whom I first came across, and who found us all these others, and next I +will have yonder tall carles, the three of them, because I perceive them +to be men meet to be with a War-leader, and to follow him in battle.’ + +Therewith he drew the three Men of the Wolf towards him, but Dallach +already was standing beside him. And folk rejoiced in Face-of-god. + +But the Bride came forward next, and spake to him meekly and simply: + +‘War-leader, let me have of the women those who need me most, that I may +bring them to the House of the Steer, and try if there be not some good +days yet to be found for them, wherein they shall but remember the past +grief as an ugly dream.’ + +Then Face-of-god looked on her, and him-seemed he had never seen her so +fair; and all the shame wherewith he had beheld her of late was gone from +him, and his heart ran over with friendly love towards her as she looked +into his face with kindly eyes; and he said: + +‘Kinswoman, take thy choice as thy kindness biddeth, and happy shall they +be whom thou choosest.’ + +She bowed her head soberly, and chose from among the guests four women of +the saddest and most grievous, and no man of their kindred spake for +going along with them; then she went her ways home, leading one of them +by the hand, and strange was it to see those twain going through sun and +shade together, that poor wretch along with the goodliest of women. + +Then came forward one after other of the worthy goodmen of the Dale, and +especially such as were old, and they led away one one man, and another +two, and another three, and often would a man crave to go with a woman or +a woman with a man, and it was not gainsaid them. So were all the guests +apportioned, and ill-content were those goodmen that had to depart +without a guest; and one man would say to another: ‘Such-an-one, be not +downcast; this guest shall be between us, if he will, and shall dwell +with thee and me month about; but this first month with me, since I was +first comer.’ And so forth was it said. + +Now to prevent the time to come, it may be said about the Runaways, that +when they had been a little while amongst the Burgdalers, well fed and +well clad and kindly cherished, it was marvellous how they were bettered +in aspect of body, and it began to be seen of them that they were +well-favoured people, and divers of the women exceeding goodly, +black-haired and grey-eyed, and very clear-skinned and white-skinned; +most of them were young, and the oldest had not seen above forty winters. +They of Rose-dale, and especially such as had first fled away to the +wood, were very soon seen to be merry and kindly folk; but they who had +been longest in captivity, and notably those from Silver-dale who were +not of the kindreds, were for a long time sullen and heavy, and it +availed little to trust to them for the doing of work; albeit they would +follow about their friends of Burgdale with the love of a dog; also they +were, divers of them, somewhat thievish, and if they lacked anything +would liefer take it by stealth than ask for it; which forsooth the +Burgdale men took not amiss, but deemed of it as a jest rather. + +Very few of the Runaways had any will to fare back to their old homes, or +indeed could be got to go into the wood, or, after a day or two, to say +any word of Rose-dale or Silver-dale. In this and other matters the +Burgdalers dealt with them as with children who must have their way; for +they deemed that their guests had much time to make up; also they were +well content when they saw how goodly they were, for these Dalesmen loved +to see men goodly of body and of a cheerful countenance. + +As for Dallach and the three Silver-dale men of the kindred, they went +gladly whereas the Burgdale men would have them; and half a score others +took weapons in their hands when the war was foughten: concerning which +more hereafter. + +But on the even whereof the tale now tells, Face-of-god and Stone-face +and their company met after nightfall in the Hall of the Face clad in +glorious raiment, and therewith were Dallach and the men of Silver-dale, +washen and docked of their long hair, after the fashion of warriors who +bear the helm; and they were clad in gay attire, with battle-swords girt +to their sides and gold rings on their arms. Somewhat stern and sad-eyed +were those Silver-dalers yet, though they looked on those about them +kindly and courteously when they met their eyes; and Face-of-god yearned +towards them when he called to mind the beauty and wisdom and +loving-kindness of the Sun-beam. They were, as aforesaid, strong men and +tall, and one of them taller than any amidst that house of tall men. +Their names were Wolf-stone, the tallest, and God-swain, and Spear-fist; +and God-swain the youngest was of thirty winters, and Wolf-stone of +forty. They came into the Hall in such wise, that when they were washed +and attired, and all men were assembled in the Hall, and the Alderman and +the chieftains sitting on the daïs, Face-of-god brought them in from the +out-bower, holding Dallach by the right hand and Wolf-stone by the left; +and he looked but a stripling beside that huge man. + +And when the men in the Hall beheld such goodly warriors, and remembered +their grief late past, they all stood up and shouted for joy of them. +But Face-of-god passed up the Hall with them, and stood before the daïs +and said: + +‘O Alderman of the Dale and Chief of the House of the Face, here I bring +to you the foes of our foemen, whom I have met in the Wild-wood, and +bidden to our House; and meseemeth they will be our friends, and stand +beside us in the day of battle. Therefore I say, take these guests and +me together, or put us all to the door together; and if thou wilt take +them, then show them to such places as thou deemest meet.’ + +Then stood up the Alderman and said: + +‘Men of Silver-dale and Rose-dale, I bid you welcome! Be ye our friends, +and abide here with us as long as seemeth good to you, and share in all +that is ours. Son Face-of-god, show these warriors to seats on the daïs +beside thee, and cherish them as well as thou knowest how.’ + +Then Face-of-god brought them up on to the daïs and sat down on the right +hand of his father, with Dallach on his right hand, and then Wolf-stone +out from him; then sat Stone-face, that there might be a man of the Dale +to talk with them and serve them; and on his right hand first Spear-fist +and then God-swain. And when they were all sat down, and the meat was on +the board, Iron-face turned to his son Face-of-god and took his hand, and +said in a loud voice, so that many might hear him: + +‘Son Face-of-god, son Gold-mane, thou bearest with thee both ill luck and +good. Erewhile, when thou wanderedst out into the Wild-wood, seeking +thou knewest not what from out of the Land of Dreams, thou didst but +bring aback to us grief and shame; but now that thou hast gone forth with +the neighbours seeking thy foemen, thou hast come aback to us with thine +hands full of honour and joy for us, and we thank thee for thy gifts, and +I call thee a lucky man. Herewith, kinsman, I drink to thee and the +lasting of thy luck.’ + +Therewith he stood up and drank the health of the War-leader and the +Guests: and all men were exceeding joyous thereat, when they called to +mind his wrath at the Gate-thing, and they shouted for gladness as they +drank that health, and the feast became exceeding merry in the House of +the Face; and as to the war to come, it seemed to them as if it were over +and done in all triumph. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. HALL-FACE GOETH TOWARD ROSE-DALE. + + +ON the morrow Face-of-god took counsel with Hall-face and Stone-face as +to what were best to be done, and they sat on the daïs in the Hall to +talk it over. + +Short was the time that had worn since that day in Shadowy Vale, for it +was but eight days since then; yet so many things had befallen in that +time, and, to speak shortly, the outlook for the Burgdalers had changed +so much, that the time seemed long to all the three, and especially to +Face-of-god. + +It was yet twenty days till the Great Folk-mote should beholden, and to +Hall-face the time seemed long enough to do somewhat, and he deemed it +were good to gather force and fall on the Dusky Men in Rose-dale, since +now they had gotten men who could lead them the nighest way and by the +safest passes, and who knew all the ways of the foemen. But to +Stone-face this rede seemed not so good; for they would have to go and +come back, and fight and conquer, in less time than twenty days, or be +belated of the Folk-mote, and meanwhile much might happen. + +‘For,’ said Stone-face, ‘we may deem the fighting-men of Rose-dale to be +little less than one thousand, and however we fall on them, even if it be +unawares at first, they shall fight stubbornly; so that we may not send +against them many less than they be, and that shall strip Burgdale of its +fighting-men, so that whatever befalls, we that be left shall have to +bide at home.’ + +Now was Face-of-god of the same mind as Stone-face; and he said moreover: +‘When we go to Rose-dale we must abide there a while unless we be +overthrown. For if ye conquer it and come away at once, presently shall +the tidings come to the ears of the Dusky Men in Silver-dale, and they +shall join themselves to those of Rose-dale who have fled before you, and +between them they shall destroy the unhappy people therein; for ye cannot +take them all away with you: and that shall they do all the more now, +when they look to have new thralls in Burgdale, both men and women. And +this we may not suffer, but must abide till we have met all our foemen +and have overcome them, so that the poor folk there shall be safe from +them till they have learned how to defend their dale. Now my rede is, +that we send out the War-arrow at once up and down the Dale, and to the +Shepherds and Woodlanders, and appoint a day for the Muster and +Weapon-show of all our Folk, and that day to be the day before the Spring +Market, that is to say, four days before the Great Folk-mote, and +meantime that we keep sure watch about the border of the wood, and now +and again scour the wood, so as to clear the Dale of their wandering +bands.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Hall-face; ‘and I pray thee, brother, let me have an hundred +of men and thy Dallach, and let us go somewhat deep into the wood towards +Rose-dale, and see what we may come across; peradventure it might be +something better than hart or wild-swine.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘I see no harm therein, if Dallach goeth with thee +freely; for I will have no force put on him or any other of the Runaways. +Yet meseemeth it were not ill for thee to find the road to Rose-dale; for +I have it in my mind to send a company thither to give those Rose-dale +man-quellers somewhat to do at home when we fall upon Silver-dale. +Therefore go find Dallach, and get thy men together at once; for the +sooner thou art gone on thy way the better. But this I bid thee, go no +further than three days out, that ye may be back home betimes.’ + +At this word Hall-face’s eyes gleamed with joy, and he went out from the +Hall straightway and sought Dallach, and found him at the Gate. +Iron-face had given him a new sword, a good one, and had bidden him call +it Thicket-clearer, and he would not leave it any moment of the day or +night, but would lay it under his pillow at night as a child does with a +new toy; and now he was leaning against a buttress and drawing the said +sword half out of the scabbard and poring over its blade, which was +indeed fair enough, being wrought with dark grey waving lines like the +eddies of the Weltering Water. + +So Hall-face greeted him, and smiled and said: + +‘Guest, if thou wilt, thou may’st take that new blade of my father’s work +which thou lovest so, a journey which shall rejoice it.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Dallach, ‘I suppose that thou wouldest fare on thy brother’s +footsteps, and deemest that I am the man to lead thee on the road, and +even farther than he went; and though it might be thought by some that I +have seen enough of Rose-dale and the parts thereabout for one while, yet +will I go with thee; for now am I a man again, body and soul.’ + +And therewith he drew Thicket-clearer right out of his sheath and waved +him in the air. And Hall-face was glad of him and said he was well apaid +of his help. So they went away together to gather men, and on the morrow +Hall-face departed and went into the Wild-wood with Dallach and an +hundred and two score men. + +But as for Face-of-god, he fared up and down the Dale following the +War-arrow, and went into all houses, and talked with the folk, both young +and old, men and women, and told them closely all that had betid and all +that was like to betide; and he was well pleased with that which he saw +and heard; for all took his words well, and were nought afeard or +dismayed by the tidings; and he saw that they would not hang aback. +Meantime the days wore, and Hall-face came not back till the seventh day, +and he brought with him twelve more Runaways, of whom five were women. +But he had lost four men, and had with him Dallach and five others of the +Dalesmen borne upon litters sore hurt; and this was his story: + +They got to the Burg of the Runaways on the forenoon of the third day, +and thereby came on five carles of the Runaways—men who had missed +meeting Dallach that other day, but knew what had been done; for one of +them had been sick and could not come with him, and he had told the +others: so now they were hanging about the Burg of the Runaways hoping +somewhat that he might come again; and they met the Burgdalers full of +joy, and brought them trouts that they had caught in the river. + +As for the other runaways, namely, five women and two more carles—they +had gotten them close to the entrance into Silver-dale, where by night +and cloud they came on a campment of the Dusky Men, who were leading home +these seven poor wretches, runaways whom they had caught, that they might +slay them most evilly in Rose-stead. So Hall-face fell on the Dusky Men, +and delivered their captives, but slew not all the foe, and they that +fled brought pursuers on them who came up with them the next day, so near +was Rose-dale, though they made all diligence homeward. The Burgdalers +must needs turn and fight with those pursuers, and at last they drave +them aback so that they might go on their ways home. They let not the +grass grow beneath their feet thereafter, till they were assured by +meeting a band of the Woodlanders, who had gone forth to help them, and +with whom they rested a little. But neither so were they quite done with +the foemen, who came upon them next day a very many: these however they +and the Woodlanders, who were all fresh and unwounded and very valiant, +speedily put to the worse; and so they came on to Burgstead, leaving +those of them who were sorest hurt to be tended by the Woodlanders at +Carlstead, who, as might be looked for, deal with them very lovingly. + +It was in the first fight that they suffered that loss of slain and +wounded; and therein the newly delivered thralls fought valiantly against +their masters: as for Dallach, it was no marvel, said Hall-face, that he +was hurt; but rather a marvel that he was not slain, so little he recked +of point and edge, if he might but slay the foemen. + +Such was Hall-face’s-tale; and Face-of-god deemed that he had done +unwisely to let him go that journey; for the slaying of a few Dusky Men +was but a light gain to set against the loss of so many Burgdalers; yet +was he glad of the deliverance of those Runaways, and deemed it a gain +indeed. But henceforth would he hold all still till he should have +tidings of Folk-might; so nought was done thereafter save the warding of +the Dale, from the country of the Shepherds to the Waste above the +Eastern passes. + +But Face-of-god himself went up amongst the Shepherds, and abode with a +goodman hight Hound-under-Greenbury, who gathered to him the folk from +the country-side, and they went up on to Greenbury, and sat on the green +grass while he spoke with them and told them, as he had told the others, +what had been done and what should be done. And they heard him gladly, +and he deemed that there would be no blenching in them, for they were all +in one tale to live and die with their friends of Burgdale, and they said +that they would have no other word save that to bear to the Great +Folk-mote. + +So he went away well-pleased, and he fared on thence to the Woodlanders, +and guested at the house of a valiant man hight Wargrove, who on the +morrow morn called the folk together to a green lawn of the Wild-wood, so +that there was scarce a soul of them that was not there. Then he laid +the whole matter before them; and if the Dalesmen had been merry and +ready, and the Shepherds stout-hearted and friendly, yet were the +Wood-landers more eager still, so that every hour seemed long to them +till they stood in their war-gear; and they told him that now at last was +the hour drawing nigh which they had dreamed of, but had scarce dared to +hope for, when the lost way should be found, and the crooked made +straight, and that which had been broken should be mended; that their +meat and drink, and sleeping and waking, and all that they did were now +become to them but the means of living till the day was come whereon the +two remnants of the children of the Wolf should meet and become one Folk +to live or die together. + +Then went Face-of-god back to Burgstead again, and as he stood anigh the +Thing-stead once more, and looked down on the Dale as he had beheld it +last autumn, he bethought him that with all that had been done and all +that had been promised, the earth was clearing of her trouble, and that +now there was nought betwixt him and the happy days of life which the +Dale should give to the dwellers therein, save the gathering hosts of the +battle-field and the day when the last word should be spoken and the +first stroke smitten. So he went down on to the Portway well content. + +Thereafter till the day of the Weapon-show there is nought to tell of, +save that Dallach and the other wounded men began to grow whole again; +and all men sat at home, or went on the woodland ward, expecting great +tidings after the holding of the Folk-mote. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. OF THE WEAPON-SHOW OF THE MEN OF BURGDALE AND THEIR +NEIGHBOURS. + + +NOW on the day appointed for the Weapon-show came the Folk flock-meal to +the great and wide meadow that was cleft by Wildlake as it ran to join +the Weltering Water. Early in the morning, even before sunrise, had the +wains full of women and children begun to come thither. Also there came +little horses and asses from the Shepherd country with one or two or +three damsels or children sitting on each, and by wain-side or by beast +strode the men of the house, merry and fair in their war-gear. The +Woodlanders, moreover, man and woman, elder and swain and young damsel, +streamed out of the wood from Carlstead, eager to make the day begin +before the sunrise, and end before his setting. + +Then all men fell to pitching of tents and tilting over of wains; for the +April sun was hot in the Dale, and when he arose the meads were gay with +more than the spring flowers; for the tents and the tilts were stained +and broidered with many colours, and there was none who had not furbished +up his war-gear so that all shone and glittered. And many wore gay +surcoats over their armour, and the women were clad in all their bravery, +and the Houses mostly of a suit; for one bore blue and another +corn-colour, and another green, and another brazil, and so forth, and all +gleaming and glowing with broidery of gold and bright hues. But the +women of the Shepherds were all clad in white, embroidered with green +boughs and red blossoms, and the Woodland women wore dark red kirtles. +Moreover, the women had set garlands of flowers on their heads and the +helms of the men, and for the most part they were slim of body and tall +and light-limbed, and as dainty to look upon as the willow-boughs that +waved on the brook-side. + +Thither had the goodmen who were guesting the Runaways brought their +guests, even now much bettered by their new soft days; and much the poor +folk marvelled at all this joyance, and they scarce knew where they were; +but to some it brought back to their minds days of joyance before the +thralldom and all that they had lost, so that their hearts were heavy a +while, till they saw the warriors of the kindreds streaming into the mead +and bethought them why they carried steel. + +Now by then the sun was fully up there was a great throng on the Portway, +and this was the folk of the Burg on their way to the Weapon-mead. The +men-at-arms were in the midst of the throng, and at the head of them was +the War-leader, with the banner of the Face before him, wherein was done +the image of the God with the ray-ringed head. But at the rearward of +the warriors went the Alderman and the Burg-wardens, before whom was +borne the banner of the Burg pictured with the Gate and its Towers; but +in the midst betwixt those two was the banner of the Steer, a white beast +on a green field. + +So when the Dale-wardens who were down in the meadow heard the music and +beheld who were coming, they bade the companies of the Dale and the +Shepherds and the Woodlanders who were down there to pitch their banners +in a half circle about the ingle of the meadow which was made by the +streams of Wildlake and the Weltering Water, and gather to them to be +ordered there under their leaders of scores and half-hundreds and +hundreds; and even so they did. But the banners of the Dale without the +Burg were the Bridge, and the Bull, and the Vine, and the Sickle. And +the Shepherds had three banners, to wit Greenbury, and the Fleece, and +the Thorn. + +As for the Woodlanders, they said that they were abiding their great +banner, but it should come in good time; ‘and meantime,’ said they, ‘here +are the war-tokens that we shall fight under; for they are good enough +banners for us poor men, the remnant of the valiant of time past.’ +Therewith they showed two great spears, and athwart the one was tied an +arrow, its point dipped in blood, its feathers singed with fire; and they +said, ‘This is the banner of the War-shaft.’ + +On the other spear there was nought; but the head thereof was great and +long, and they had so burnished the steel that the sun smote out a ray of +light from it, so that it might be seen from afar. And they said: ‘This +is the Banner of the Spear! Down yonder where the ravens are gathering +ye shall see a banner flying over us. There shall fall many a mother’s +son.’ + +Smiled the Dale-wardens, and said that these were good banners to fight +under; and those that stood nearby shouted for the valiancy of the +Woodland Carles. + +Now the Dale-wardens went to the entrance from the Portway to the meadow, +and there met the Men of the Burg, and two of them went one on either +side of the War-leader to show him to his seat, and the others abode till +the Alderman and Burg-wardens came up, and then joined themselves to +them, and the horns blew up both in the meadow and on the road, and the +new-comers went their ways to their appointed places amidst the shouts of +the Dalesmen; and the women and children and old men from the Burg +followed after, till all the mead was covered with bright raiment and +glittering gear, save within the ring of men at the further end. + +So came the War-leader to his seat of green turf raised in the ingle +aforesaid; and he stood beside it till the Alderman and Wardens had taken +their places on a seat behind him raised higher than his; below him on +the step of his seat sat the Scrivener with his pen and ink-horn and +scroll of parchment, and men had brought him a smooth shield whereon to +write. + +On the left side of Face-of-god stood the men of the Face all glittering +in their arms, and amongst them were Wolf-stone and his two fellows, but +Dallach was not yet whole of his hurts. On his right were the folk of +the House of the Steer: the leader of that House was an old white-bearded +man, grandfather of the Bride, for her father was dead; and who but the +Bride herself stood beside him in her glorious war-gear, looking as if +she were new come from the City of the Gods, thought most men; but those +who beheld her closely deemed that she looked heavy-eyed and haggard, as +if she were aweary. Nevertheless, wheresoever she passed, and whosoever +looked on her (and all men looked on her), there arose a murmur of praise +and love; and the women, and especially the young ones, said how fair her +deed was, and how meet she was for it; and some of them were for doing on +war-gear and faring to battle with the carles; and of these some were +sober and solemn, as was well seen afterwards, and some spake lightly: +some also fell to boasting of how they could run and climb and swim and +shoot in the bow, and fell to baring of their arms to show how strong +they were: and indeed they were no weaklings, though their arms were +fair. + +There then stood the ring of men, each company under its banner; and +beyond them stood the women and children and men unmeet for battle; and +beyond them again the tilted wains and the tents. + +Now Face-of-god sat him down on the turf-seat with his bright helm on his +head and his naked sword across his knees, while the horns blew up +loudly, and when they had done, the elder of the Dale-wardens cried out +for silence. Then again arose Face-of-god and said: + +‘Men of the Dale, and ye friends of the Shepherds, and ye, O valiant +Woodlanders; we are not assembled here to take counsel, for in three +days’ time shall the Great Folk-mote be holden, whereat shall be counsel +enough. But since I have been appointed your Chief and War-leader, till +such time as the Folk-mote shall either yeasay or naysay my leadership, I +have sent for you that we may look each other in the face and number our +host and behold our weapons, and see if we be meet for battle and for the +dealing with a great host of foemen. For now no longer can it be said +that we are going to war, but rather that war is on our borders, and we +are blended with it; as many have learned to their cost; for some have +been slain and some sorely hurt. Therefore I bid you now, all ye that +are weaponed, wend past us that the tale of you may be taken. But first +let every hundred-leader and half-hundred-leader and score-leader make +sure that he hath his tale aright, and give his word to the captain of +his banner that he in turn may give it out to the Scrivener with his name +and the House and Company that he leadeth.’ + +So he spake and sat him adown; and the horns blew again in token that the +companies should go past; and the first that came was Hall-ward of the +House of the Steer, and the first of those that went after him was the +Bride, going as if she were his son. + +So he cried out his name, and the name of his House, and said, ‘An +hundred and a half,’ and passed forth, his men following him in most +goodly array. Each man was girt with a good sword and bore a long heavy +spear over his shoulder, save a score who bare bows; and no man lacked a +helm, a shield, and a coat of fence. + +Then came a goodly man of thirty winters, and stayed before the Scrivener +and cried out: + +‘Write down the House of the Bridge of the Upper Dale at one hundred, and +War-well their leader.’ + +And he strode on, and his men followed clad and weaponed like those of +the Steer, save that some had axes hanging to their girdles instead of +swords; and most bore casting-spears instead of the long spears, and half +a score were bowmen. + +Then came Fox of Upton leading the men of the Bull of Middale, an hundred +and a half lacking two; very great and tall were his men, and they also +bore long spears, and one score and two were bowmen. + +Then Fork-beard of Lea, a man well on in years, led on the men of the +Vine, an hundred and a half and five men thereto; two score of them bare +bow in hand and were girt with sword; the rest bore their swords naked in +their right hands, and their shields (which were but small bucklers) +hanging at their backs, and in the left hand each bore two +casting-spears. With these went two doughty women-at-arms among the +bowmen, tall and well-knit, already growing brown with the spring sun, +for their work lay among the stocks of the vines on the southward-looking +bents. + +Next came a tall young man, yellow-haired, with a thin red beard, and +gave himself out for Red-beard of the Knolls; he bore his father’s name, +as the custom of their house was, but the old man, who had long been head +man of the House of the Sickle, was late dead in his bed, and the young +man had not seen twenty winters. He bade the Scrivener write the tale of +the Men of the Sickle at an hundred and a half, and his folk fared past +the War-leader joyously, being one half of them bowmen; and fell shooters +they were; the other half were girt with swords, and bore withal long +ashen staves armed with great blades curved inwards, which weapon they +called heft-sax. + +All these bands, as the name and the tale of them was declared were +greeted with loud shouts from their fellows and the bystanders; but now +arose a greater shout still, as Stone-face, clad in goodly glittering +array, came forth and said: + +‘I am Stone-face of the House of the Face, and I bring with me two +hundreds of men with their best war-gear and weapons: write it down, +Scrivener!’ + +And he strode on like a young man after those who had gone past, and +after him came the tall Hall-face and his men, a gallant sight to see: +two score bowmen girt with swords, and the others with naked swords +waving aloft, and each bearing two casting-spears in his left hand. + +Then came a man of middle age, broad-shouldered, yellow-haired, +blue-eyed, of wide and ruddy countenance, and after him a goodly company; +and again great was the shout that went up to the heavens; for he said: + +‘Scrivener, write down that Hound-under-Greenbury, from amongst the +dwellers in the hills where the sheep feed, leadeth the men who go under +the banner of Greenbury, to the tale of an hundred and four score.’ + +Therewith he passed on, and his men followed, stout, stark, and +merry-faced, girt with swords, and bearing over their shoulders +long-staved axes, and spears not so long as those which the Dalesmen +bore; and they had but a half score of arrow-shot with them. + +Next came a young man, blue-eyed also, with hair the colour of flax on +the distaff, broad-faced and short-nosed, low of stature, but very +strong-built, who cried out in a loud, cheerful voice: + +‘I am Strongitharm of the Shepherds, and these valiant men are of the +Fleece and the Thorn blended together, for so they would have it; and +their tale is one hundred and two score and ten.’ + +Then the men of those kindreds went past merry and shouting, and they +were clad and weaponed like to them of Greenbury, but had with them a +score of bowmen. And all these Shepherd-folk wore over their hauberks +white woollen surcoats broidered with green and red. + +Now again uprose the cry, and there stood before the War-leader a very +tall man of fifty winters, dark-faced and grey-eyed, and he spake slowly +and somewhat softly, and said: + +‘War-leader, this is Red-wolf of the Woodlanders leading the men who go +under the sign of the War-shaft, to the number of an hundred and two.’ + +Then he passed on, and his men after him, tall, lean, and silent amidst +the shouting. All these men bare bows, for they were keen hunters; each +had at his girdle a little axe and a wood-knife, and some had long swords +withal. They wore, everyone of the carles, short green surcoats over +their coats of fence; but amongst them were three women who bore like +weapons to the men, but were clad in red kirtles under their hauberks, +which were of good ring-mail gleaming over them from throat to knee. + +Last came another tall man, but young, of twenty-five winters, and spake: + +‘Scrivener, I am Bears-bane of the Woodlanders, and these that come after +me wend under the sign of the Spear, and they are of the tale of one +hundred and seven.’ + +And he passed by at once, and his men followed him, clad and weaponed no +otherwise than they of the War-shaft, and with them were two women. + +Now went all those companies back to their banners, and stood there; and +there arose among the bystanders much talk concerning the Weapon-show, +and who were the best arrayed of the Houses. And of the old men, some +spake of past weapon-shows which they had seen in their youth, and they +set them beside this one, and praised and blamed. So it went on a little +while till the horns blew again, and once more there was silence. Then +arose Face-of-god and said: + +‘Men of Burgdale, and ye Shepherd-folk, and ye of the Woodland, now shall +ye wot how many weaponed men we may bring together for this war. +Scrivener, arise and give forth the tale of the companies, as they have +been told unto you.’ + +Then the Scrivener stood up on the turf-bench beside Face-of-god, and +spake in a loud voice, reading from his scroll: + +‘Of the Men of Burgdale there have passed by me nine hundreds and six; of +the Shepherds three hundreds and eight and ten; and of the Woodlanders +two hundreds and nine; so that all told our men are fourteen hundreds and +thirty and three.’ + +Now in those days men reckoned by long hundreds, so that the whole tale +of the host was one thousand, five hundred, and four score and one, +telling the tale in short hundreds. + +When the tale had been given forth and heard, men shouted again, and they +rejoiced that they were so many. For it exceeded the reckoning which the +Alderman had given out at the Gate-thing. But Face-of-god said: + +‘Neighbours, we have held our Weapon-show; but now hold you ready, each +man, for the Hosting toward very battle; for belike within seven days +shall the leaders of hundreds and twenties summon you to be ready in arms +to take whatso fortune may befall. Now is sundered the Weapon-show. Be +ye as merry to-day as your hearts bid you to be.’ + +Therewith he came down from his seat with the Alderman and the Wardens, +and they mingled with the good folk of the Dale and the Shepherds and the +Woodlanders, and merry was their converse there. It yet lacked an hour +of noon; so presently they fell to and feasted in the green meadow, +drinking from wain to wain and from tent to tent; and thereafter they +played and sported in the meads, shooting at the butts and wrestling, and +trying other masteries. Then they fell to dancing one and all, and so at +last to supper on the green grass in great merriment. Nor might you have +known from the demeanour of any that any threat of evil overhung the +Dale. Nay, so glad were they, and so friendly, that you might rather +have deemed that this was the land whereof tales tell, wherein people die +not, but live for ever, without growing any older than when they first +come thither, unless they be born into the land itself, and then they +grow into fair manhood, and so abide. In sooth, both the land and the +folk were fair enough to be that land and the folk thereof. + +But a little after sunset they sundered, and some fared home; but many of +them abode in the tents and tilted wains, because the morrow was the +first day of the Spring Market: and already were some of the Westland +chapmen come; yea, two of them were with the bystanders in the meadow; +and more were looked for ere the night was far spent. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. THE MEN OF SHADOWY VALE COME TO THE SPRING MARKET AT +BURGSTEAD. + + +ON the morrow betimes in the morning the Westland chapmen, who were now +all come, went out from the House of the Face, where they were ever wont +to be lodged, and set up their booths adown the street betwixt gate and +bridge. Gay was the show; for the booths were tilted over with painted +cloths, and the merchants themselves were clad in long gowns of fine +cloth; scarlet, and blue, and white, and green, and black, with broidered +welts of gold and silver; and their knaves were gaily attired in short +coats of divers hues, with silver rings about their arms, and short +swords girt to their sides. People began to gather about these chapmen +at once when they fell to opening their bales and their packs, and +unloading their wains. There had they iron, both in pigs and forged +scrap and nails; steel they had, and silver, both in ingots and vessel; +pearls from over sea; cinnabar and other colours for staining, such as +were not in the mountains: madder from the marshes, and purple of the +sea, and scarlet grain from the holm-oaks by its edge, and woad from the +deep clayey fields of the plain; silken thread also from the outer ocean, +and rare webs of silk, and jars of olive oil, and fine pottery, and +scented woods, and sugar of the cane. But gold they had none with them, +for that they took there; and for weapons, save a few silver-gilt toys, +they had no market. + +So presently they fell to chaffer; for the carles brought them little +bags of the river-borne gold, so that the weights and scales were at +work; others had with them scrolls and tallies to tell the number of the +beasts which they had to sell, and the chapmen gave them wares therefor +without beholding the beasts; for they wotted that the Dalesmen lied not +in chaffer. While the day was yet young withal came the Dalesmen from +the mid and nether Dale with their wares and set up their booths; and +they had with them flasks and kegs of the wine which they had to sell; +and bales of the good winter-woven cloth, some grey, some dyed, and +pieces of fine linen; and blades of swords, and knives, and axes of such +fashion as the Westland men used; and golden cups and chains, and fair +rings set with mountain-blue stones, and copper bowls, and vessels gilt +and parcel-gilt, and mountain-blue for staining. There were men of the +Shepherds also with such fleeces as they could spare from the daily +chaffer with the neighbours. And of the Woodlanders were four carles and +a woman with peltries and dressed deer-skins, and a few pieces of +well-carven wood-work for bedsteads and chairs and such like. + +Soon was the Burg thronged with folk in all its open places, and all were +eager and merry, and it could not have been told from their demeanour and +countenance that the shadow of a grievous trouble hung over them. True +it was that every man of the Dale and the neighbours was girt with his +sword, or bore spear or axe or other weapon in his hand, and that most +had their bucklers at their backs and their helms on their heads; but +this was ever their custom at all meetings of men, not because they +dreaded war or were fain of strife, but in token that they were free men, +from whom none should take the weapons without battle. + +Such were the folk of the land: as for the chapmen, they were well-spoken +and courteous, and blithe with the folk, as they well might be, for they +had good pennyworths of them; yet they dealt with them without using +measureless lying, as behoved folk dealing with simple and proud people; +and many was the tale they told of the tidings of the Cities and the +Plain. + +There amongst the throng was the Bride in her maiden’s attire, but girt +with the sword, going from booth to booth with her guests of the +Runaways, and doing those poor people what pleasure she might, and giving +them gifts from the goods there, such as they set their hearts on. And +the more part of the Runaways were about among the people of the Fair; +but Dallach, being still weak, sat on a bench by the door of the House of +the Face looking on well-pleased at all the stir of folk. + +Hall-face was gone on the woodland ward; while Face-of-god went among the +folk in his most glorious attire; but he soon betook him to the place of +meeting without the Gate, where Stone-face and some of the elders were +sitting along with the Alderman, beside whom sat the head man of the +merchants, clad in a gown of fine scarlet embroidered with the best work +of the Dale, with a golden chaplet on his head, and a good sword, +golden-hilted, by his side, all which the Alderman had given to it him +that morning. These chiefs were talking together concerning the tidings +of the Plain, and many a tale the guest told to the Dalesmen, some true, +some false. For there had been battles down there, and the fall of +kings, and destruction of people, as oft befalleth in the guileful +Cities. He told them also, in answer to their story of the Dusky Men, of +how men even such-like, but riding on horses, or drawn in wains, an host +not to be numbered, had erewhile overthrown the hosts of the Cities of +the Plain, and had wrought evils scarce to be told of; and how they had +piled up the skulls of slaughtered folk into great hills beside the +city-gates, so that the sun might no longer shine into the streets; and +how because of the death and the rapine, grass had grown in the kings’ +chambers, and the wolves had chased deer in the Temples of the Gods. + +‘But,’ quoth he, ‘I know you, bold tillers of the soil, valiant scourers +of the Wild-wood, that the worst that can befall you will be to die under +shield, and that ye shall suffer no torment of the thrall. May the +undying Gods bless the threshold of this Gate, and oft may I come hither +to taste of your kindness! May your race, the uncorrupt, increase and +multiply, till your valiant men and clean maidens make the bitter sweet +and purify the earth!’ + +He spake smooth-tongued and smiling, handling the while the folds of his +fine scarlet gown, and belike he meant a full half of what he said; for +he was a man very eloquent of speech, and had spoken with kings, uncowed +and pleased with his speaking; and for that cause and his riches had he +been made chief of the chapmen. As he spake the heart of Face-of-god +swelled within him, and his cheek flushed; but Iron-face sat up straight +and proud, and a light smile played about his face, as he said gravely: + +‘Friend of the Westland, I thank thee for the blessing and the kind word. +Such as we are, we are; nor do I deem that the very Gods shall change us. +And if they will be our friends, it is well; for we desire nought of them +save their friendship; and if they will be our foes, that also shall we +bear; nor will we curse them for doing that which their lives bid them to +do. What sayest thou, Face-of-god, my son?’ + +‘Yea, father,’ said Face-of-god, ‘I say that the very Gods, though they +slay me, cannot unmake my life that has been. If they do deeds, yet +shall we also do.’ + +The Outlander smiled as they spake, and bowed his head to Iron-face and +Face-of-god, and wondered at their pride of heart, marvelling what they +would say to the great men of the Cities if they should meet them. + +But as they sat a-talking, there came two men running to them from the +Portway, their weapons all clattering upon them, and they heard withal +the sound of a horn winded not far off very loud and clear; and the +Chapman’s cheek paled: for in sooth he doubted that war was at hand, +after all he had heard of the Dalesmen’s dealings with the Dusky Men. +And all battle was loathsome to him, nor for all the gain of his chaffer +had he come into the Dale, had he known that war was looked for. + +But the chiefs of the Dalesmen stirred not, nor changed countenance; and +some of the goodmen who were in the street nigh the Gate came forth to +see what was toward; for they also had heard the voice of the horn. + +Then one of those messengers came up breathless, and stood before the +chiefs, and said: + +‘New tidings, Alderman; here be weaponed strangers come into the Dale.’ + +The Alderman smiled on him and said: ‘Yea, son, and are they a great host +of men?’ + +‘Nay,’ said the man, ‘not above a score as I deem, and there is a woman +with them.’ + +‘Then shall we abide them here,’ said the Alderman, ‘and thou mightest +have saved thy breath, and suffered them to bring tidings of themselves; +since they may scarce bring us war. For no man desireth certain and +present death; and that is all that such a band may win at our hands in +battle to-day; and all who come in peace are welcome to us. What like +are they to behold?’ + +Said the man: ‘They are tall men gloriously attired, so that they seem +like kinsmen of the Gods; and they bear flowering boughs in their hands.’ + +The Alderman laughed, and said: ‘If they be Gods they are welcome indeed; +and they shall grow the wiser for their coming; for they shall learn how +guest-fain the Burgdale men may be. But if, as I deem, they be like unto +us, and but the children of the Gods, then are they as welcome, and it +may be more so, and our greeting to them shall be as their greeting to us +would be.’ + +Even as he spake the horn was winded nearer yet, and more loudly, and +folk came pouring out of the Gate to learn the tidings. Presently the +strangers came from off the Portway into the space before the Gate; and +their leader was a tall and goodly man of some thirty winters, in +glorious array, helm on head and sword by side, his surcoat green and +flowery like the spring meads. In his right hand he held a branch of the +blossomed black-thorn (for some was yet in blossom), and his left had +hold of the hand of an exceeding fair woman who went beside him: behind +him was a score of weaponed men in goodly attire, some bearing bows, some +long spears, but each bearing a flowering bough in hand. + +The tall man stopped in the midst of the space, and the Alderman and they +with him stirred not; though, as for Face-of-god, it was to him as if +summer had come suddenly into the midst of winter, and for the very +sweetness of delight his face grew pale. + +Then the new-comer drew nigh to the Alderman and said: + +‘Hail to the Gate and the men of the Gate! Hail to the kindred of the +children of the Gods!’ + +But the Alderman stood up and spake: ‘And hail to thee, tall man! Fair +greeting to thee and thy company! Wilt thou name thyself with thine own +name, or shall I call thee nought save Guest? Welcome art thou, by +whatsoever name thou wilt be called. Here may’st thou and thy folk abide +as long as ye will.’ + +Said the new-comer: ‘Thanks have thou for thy greeting and for thy +bidding! And that bidding shall we take, whatsoever may come of it; for +we are minded to abide with thee for a while. But know thou, O Alderman +of the Dalesmen, that I am not sackless toward thee and thine. My name +is Folk-might of the Children of the Wolf, and this woman is the +Sun-beam, my sister, and these behind me are of my kindred, and are well +beloved and trusty. We are no evil men or wrong-doers; yet have we been +driven into sore straits, wherein men must needs at whiles do deeds that +make their friends few and their foes many. So it may be that I am thy +foeman. Yet, if thou doubtest of me that I shall be a baneful guest, +thou shalt have our weapons of us, and then mayest thou do thy will upon +us without dread; and here first of all is my sword!’ + +Therewith he cast down the flowering branch he was bearing, and pulled +his sword from out his sheath, and took it by the point, and held out the +hilt to Iron-face. + +But the Alderman smiled kindly on him and said: + +‘The blade is a good one, and I say it who know the craft of +sword-forging; but I need it not, for thou seest I have a sword by my +side. Keep your weapons, one and all; for ye have come amongst many and +those no weaklings: and if so be that thy guilt against us is so great +that we must needs fall on you, ye will need all your war-gear. But +hereof is no need to speak till the time of the Folk-mote, which will be +holden in three days’ wearing; so let us forbear this matter till then; +for I deem we shall have enough to say of other matters. Now, +Folk-might, sit down beside me, and thou also, Sun-beam, fairest of +women.’ + +Therewith he looked into her face and reddened, and said: + +‘Yet belike thou hast a word of greeting for my son, Face-of-god, unless +it be so that ye have not seen him before?’ + +Then Face-of-god came forward, and took Folk-might by the hand and kissed +him; and he stood before the Sun-beam and took her hand, and the world +waxed a wonder to him as he kissed her cheeks; and in no wise did she +change countenance, save that her eyes softened, and she gazed at him +full kindly from the happiness of her soul. + +Then Face-of-god said: ‘Welcome, Guests, who erewhile guested me so well: +now beginneth the day of your well-doing to the men of Burgdale; +therefore will we do to you as well as we may.’ + +Then Folk-might and the Sun-beam sat them down with the chieftains, one +on either side of the Alderman, but Face-of-god passed forth to the +others, and greeted them one by one: of them was Wood-father and his +three sons, and Bow-may; and they rejoiced exceedingly to see him, and +Bow-may said: + +‘Now it gladdens my heart to look upon thee alive and thriving, and to +remember that day last winter when I met thee on the snow, and turned +thee back from the perilous path to thy pleasure, which the Dusky Men +were besetting, of whom thou knewest nought. Yea, it was merry that +tide; but this is better. Nay, friend,’ she said, ‘it availeth thee +nought to strive to look out of the back of thine head: let it be enough +to thee that she is there. Thou art now become a great chieftain, and +she is no less; and this is a meeting of chieftains, and the folk are +looking on and expecting demeanour of them as of the Gods; and she is not +to be dealt with as if she were the daughter of some little goodman with +whom one hath made tryst in the meadows. There! hearken to me for a +while; at least till I tell thee that thou seemest to me to hold thine +head higher than when last I saw thee; though that is no long time +either. Hast thou been in battle again since that day?’ + +‘Nay,’ he said, ‘I have stricken no stroke since I slew two felons within +the same hour that we parted. And thou, sister, what hast thou done?’ + +She said: ‘The grey goose hath been on the wing thrice since that, +bearing on it the bane of evil things.’ + +Then said Wood-wise: ‘Kinswoman, tell him of that battle, since thou art +deft with thy tongue.’ + +She said: ‘Weary on battles! it is nought save this: twelve days agone +needs must every fighting-man of the Wolf, carle or of queen, wend away +from Shadowy Vale, while those unmeet for battle we hid away in the caves +at the nether end of the Dale: but Sun-beam would not endure that night, +and fared with us, though she handled no weapon. All this we had to do +because we had learned that a great company of the Dusky Men were +over-nigh to our Dale, and needs must we fall upon them, lest they should +learn too much, and spread the story. Well, so wise was Folk-might that +we came on them unawares by night and cloud at the edge of the Pine-wood, +and but one of our men was slain, and of them not one escaped; and when +the fight was over we counted four score and ten of their arm-rings.’ + +He said: ‘Did that or aught else come of our meeting with them that +morning?’ + +‘Nay,’ she said, ‘nought came of it: those we slew were but a straying +band. Nay, the four score and ten slain in the Pine-wood knew not of +Shadowy Vale belike, and had no intent for it: they were but scouring the +wood seeking their warriors that had gone out from Silver-dale and came +not aback.’ + +‘Thou art wise in war, Bow-may,’ said Face-of-god, and he smiled withal. + +Bow-may reddened and said: ‘Friend Gold-mane, dost thou perchance deem +that there is aught ill in my warring? And the Sun-beam, she naysayeth +the bearing of weapons; though I deem that she hath little fear of them +when they come her way.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Nay, I deem no ill of it, but much good. For I +suppose that thou hast learned overmuch of the wont of the Dusky Men, and +hast seen their thralls?’ + +She knitted her brows, and all the merriment went out of her face at that +word, and she answered: ‘Yea, thou hast it; for I have both seen their +thralls and been in the Dale of thralldom; and how then can I do less +than I do? But for thee, I perceive that thou hast been nigh unto our +foes and hast fallen in with their thralls; and that is well; for whatso +tales we had told thee thereof it is like thou wouldst not have trowed +in, as now thou must do, since thou thyself hast seen these poor folk. +But now I will tell thee, Gold-mane, that my soul is sick of these +comings and goings for the slaughter of a few wretches; and I long for +the Great Day of Battle, when it will be seen whether we shall live or +die; and though I laugh and jest, yet doth the wearing of the days wear +me.’ + +He looked kindly on her and said: ‘I am War-leader of this Folk, and +trust me that the waiting-tide shall not be long; wherefore now, sister, +be merry to-day, for that is but meet and right; and cast aside thy care, +for presently shalt thou behold many new friends. But now meseemeth +overlong have ye been standing before our Gate, and it is time that ye +should see the inside of our Burg and the inside of our House.’ + +Indeed by this time so many men had come out of the street that the place +before the Gate was all thronged, and from where he stood Face-of-god +could scarce see his father, or Folk-might and the Sun-beam and the +chieftains. + +So he took Wood-father by the hand, and close behind him came Wood-wise +and Bow-may, and he cried out for way that he might speak with the +Alderman, and men gave way to them, and he led those new-comers close up +to the gate-seats of the Elders, and as he clove the press smiling and +bright-eyed and happy, all gazed on him; but the Sun-beam, who was +sitting between Iron-face and the Westland Chapman, and who heretofore +had been agaze with eyes beholding little, past whose ears the words went +unheard, and whose mind wandered into thoughts of things unfashioned yet, +when she beheld him close to her again, then, taken unawares, her eyes +caressed him, and she turned as red as a rose, as she felt all the +sweetness of desire go forth from her to meet him. So that, he +perceiving it, his voice was the clearer and sweeter for the inward joy +he felt, as he said: + +‘Alderman, meseemeth it is now time that we bring our Guests into the +House of our Fathers; for since they are in warlike array, and we are no +longer living in peace, and I am now War-leader of the Dale, I deem it +but meet that I should have the guesting of them. Moreover, when we are +come into our House, I will bid thee look into thy treasury, that thou +may’st find therein somewhat which it may pleasure us to give to our +Guests.’ + +Said Iron-face: ‘Thou sayest well, son, and since the day is now worn +past noon, and these folk are but just come from the Waste, therefore +such as we have of meat and drink abideth them. And surely there is +within our house a coffer which belongeth to thee and me; and forsooth I +know not why we keep the treasures hoarded therein, save that it be for +this cause: that if we were to give to our friends that which we +ourselves use and love, which would be of all things pleasant to us, if +we gave them such goods, they would be worn and worsened by our use of +them. For this reason, therefore, do we keep fair things which we use +not, so that we may give them to our friends. + +‘Now, Guests, both of the Waste and the Westland, since here is no +Gate-thing or meeting of the Dale-wardens, and we sit here but for our +pleasure, let us go take our pleasure within doors for a while, if it +seem good to you.’ + +Therewith he arose, and the folk made way for him and his Guests; and +Folk-might went on the right hand of Iron-face, and beside him went the +Chapman, who looked on him with a half-smile, as though he knew somewhat +of him. But on the other side of Iron-face went the Sun-beam, whose hand +he held, and after these came Face-of-god, leading in the rest of the +New-comers, who yet held the flowery branches in their hands. + +Now so much had Face-of-god told the Dalesmen, that they deemed they all +knew these men for their battle-fellows of whom they had heard tell; and +this the more as the men were so goodly and manly of aspect, especially +Folk-might, so that they seemed as if they were nigh akin to the Gods. +As for the Sun-beam, they knew not how to praise her beauty enough, but +they said that they had never known before how fair the Gods might be. +So they raised a great shout of welcome as the men came through the Gate +into the Burg, and all men turned their backs on the booths, so eager +were they to behold closely these new friends. + +But as the Guests went from the Gate to the House of the Face, going very +slowly because of the press, there in the front of the throng stood the +Bride with the women of the Runaways, whom she had caused to be clad very +fairly; and she was fain to do them a pleasure by bringing them to sight +of these new-comers, of whom she had not heard who they were, though she +had heard the cry that strangers were at hand. So there she stood +smiling a little with the pleasure of showing a fair sight to the poor +people, as folk do with children. But when she saw those twain going on +each side of the Alderman she knew them at once; and when the Sun-beam, +who was on his left side, passed so close to her that she could see the +very smoothness and dainty fashion of her skin, then was she astonied, +and the world seemed strange to her, and till they were gone by, and for +a while afterwards, she knew not where she was nor what she did, though +it seemed to her as if she still saw the face of that fair woman as in a +picture. + +But the Sun-beam had noted her at first, even amongst the fair women of +Burgstead, and she so steady and bright beside the wandering timorous +eyes and lowering faces of the thralls. But suddenly, as eye met eye, +she saw her face change; she saw her cheek whiten, her eyes stare, and +her lips quiver, and she knew at once who it was; for she had not seen +her before as Folk-might had. Then the Sun-beam cast her eyes adown, +lest her compassion might show in her face, and be a fresh grief to her +that had lost the wedding and the love; and so she passed on. + +As for Folk-might, he had seen her at once amongst all that folk as he +came into the street, and in sooth he was looking for her; and when he +saw her face change, as the sight of the Sun-beam smote upon her heart, +his own face burned with shame and anger, and he looked back at her as he +went toward the House. But she saw him not, nor noted him; and none +deemed it strange that he looked long on the Bride, the treasure of +Burgstead. But for some while Folk-might was few-spoken and sharp-spoken +amongst the chieftains; for he was slow to master his longing and his +wrath. + +So when all the Guests had entered the door of the House of the Face, the +Alderman turned back, and, standing on the threshold of his House, spake +unto the throng: + +‘Men of the Dale, and ye Outlanders who may be here, know that this is a +happy day; for hither have come to us Guests, men of the kindred of the +Gods, and they are even those of whom Face-of-god my son hath told you. +And they are friends of our friends and foes of our foes. These men are +now in my House, as is but right; but when they come forth I look to you +to cherish them in the best way ye know, and make much of them, as of +those who may help us and who may by us be holpen.’ + +Therewith he went in again and into the Hall, and bade show the +New-comers to the daïs; and wine of the best, and meat such as was to +hand, was set before them. He bade men also get ready high feast as +great as might be against the evening; and they did his bidding +straightway. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. THE ALDERMAN GIVES GIFTS TO THEM OF SHADOWY VALE. + + +IN the Hall of the Face Folk-might sat on the daïs at the right hand of +the Alderman, and the Sun-beam on his left hand. But Iron-face also had +beheld the Bride how her face changed, and he knew the cause, and was +grieved and angry and ashamed thereof: also he bethought him how this +stranger was sitting in the very place where the Bride used to sit, and +of all the love, as of a very daughter, that he had had for her; howbeit +he constrained himself to talk courteously and kindly both to Folk-might +and the Sun-beam, as behoved the Chief of the House and the Alderman of +the Dale. Moreover, he was not a little moved by the goodliness and +wisdom of the Sun-beam and the manliness of Folk-might, who was the most +chieftain-like of men. + +But while they sat there Face-of-god went from man to man of the Guests, +and made much of each, but especially of Wood-father and his sons and +Bow-may, and they loved him, and praised him, and deemed him the best of +hall-mates. Nor might the Sun-beam altogether refrain her from looking +lovingly on him, and it could be seen of her that she deemed he was doing +well, and like a wise leader and chieftain. + +So wore away awhile, and men were fulfilled of meat and drink; so then +the Alderman arose and spake, and said: + +‘Is it not so, Guests, that ye would now gladly behold our market, and +the goodly wares which the chapmen have brought us from the Cities?’ + +Then most men cried out: ‘Yea, yea!’ and Iron-face said: + +‘Then shall ye go, nor be holden by me from your pleasure. And ye +kinsmen who are the most guest-fain and the wisest, go ye with our +friends, and make all things easy and happy for them. But first of all, +Guests, I were well pleased if ye would take some small matters out of +our abundance; for it were well that ye see them ere ye stand before the +chapmen’s booths, lest ye chaffer with them for what ye have already.’ + +They all praised his bounty and thanked him for his goodwill: so he arose +to go to his treasury, and bade certain of his folk go along with him to +bear in the gifts. But ere he had taken three steps down the hall, +Face-of-god prevented him and said: + +‘Kinsman, if thou hast anywhere a hauberk somewhat better than folk are +wont to bear, such as thine own hand fashioneth, and a sword of the like +stuff, I would have thee give them, the sword to my brother-in-arms +Wood-wise here, and the war-coat to my sister Bow-may, who shooteth so +well in the bow that none may shoot closer, and very few as close; and +her shaft it was that delivered me when my skull was amongst the axes of +the Dusky Men: else had I not been here.’ + +Thereat Bow-may reddened and looked down, like a scholar who hath been +over-praised for his learning and diligence; but the Alderman smiled on +her and said: + +‘I thank thee, son, that thou hast let me know what these our two friends +may be fain of: and as for this damsel-at-arms, it is a little thing that +thou askest for her, and we might have found her something more worthy of +her goodliness; yet forsooth, since we are all bound for the place where +shafts and staves shall be good cheap, a greater treasure might be of +less avail to her.’ + +Thereat men laughed, and the Alderman went down the Hall with those +bearers of gifts, and was away for a space while they drank and made +merry: but presently back they came from the treasury bearing loads of +goodly things which were laid on one of the endlong boards. Then began +the gift-giving: and first he gave unto Folk-might six golden cups +marvellously fashioned, the work of four generations of wrights in the +Dale, and he himself had wrought the last two thereof. To Sun-beam he +gave a girdle of gold, fashioned with great mastery, whereon were images +of the Gods and the Fathers, and warriors, and beasts of the field and +fowls of the air; and as he girt it about her loins, he said in a soft +voice so that few heard: + +‘Sun-beam, thou fair woman, time has been when thou wert to us as the +edge of the poisonous sword or the midnight torch of the murderer; but +now I know not how it will be, or if the grief which thou hast given me +will ever wear out or not. And now that I have beheld thee, I have +little to do to blame my son; for indeed when I look on thee I cannot +deem that there is any evil in thee. Yea, however it may be, take thou +this gift as the reward of thine exceeding beauty.’ + +She looked on him with kind eyes, and said meekly: + +‘Indeed, if I have hurt thee unwittingly, I grieve to have hurt so good a +man. Hereafter belike we may talk more of this, but now I will but say, +that whereas at first I needed but to win thy son’s goodwill, so that our +Folk might come to life and thriving again, now it is come to this, that +he holdeth my heart in his hand and may do what he will with it; +therefore I pray thee withhold not thy love either from him or from me.’ + +He looked on her wondering, and said: ‘Thou art such an one as might make +the old man young, and the boy grow into manhood suddenly; and thy voice +is as sweet as the voice of the song-birds singing in the dawn of early +summer soundeth to him who hath been sick unto death, but who hath +escaped it and is mending. And yet I fear thee.’ + +Therewith he kissed her hand and turned unto the others, and he gave unto +Bow-may a hauberk of ring-mail of his own fashioning, a sure defence and +a wonderful work, and the collar thereof was done with gold and gems. + +But he said to her: ‘Fair damsel-at-arms, faithful is thy face, and the +fashion of thee is goodly: now art thou become one of the best of our +friends, and this is little enough to give thee; yet would we fain ward +thy body against the foeman; so grieve us not by gainsaying us.’ + +And Bow-may was exceeding glad, and scarce knew how to cease handling +that marvel of ring-mail. + +Then to Wood-wise Iron-face gave a most goodly sword, the blade all +marked with dark lines like the stream of an eddying river, the hilts of +steel and gold marvellously wrought; and all the work of a smith who had +dwelt in the house of his father’s father, and was a great warrior. + +Unto Wood-father he gave a very goodly helm parcel-gilded; and to his +sons and the other folk fair gifts of weapons and jewels and girdles and +cups and other good things; so that their hearts were full of joy, and +they all praised his open hand. + +Then some of the best and merriest of the kinsmen of the Face, and +Face-of-god with them, brought the Guests out into the street and among +the booths. There Face-of-god beheld the Bride again; and she was +standing by the booth of a chapman and dealing with him for a piece of +goodly silken cloth to be a gown for one of her guests, and she was +talking and smiling as she chaffered with him, as her wont was; for she +was ever very friendly of demeanour with all men. But he noted that she +was yet exceeding pale, and he was right sorry thereof, for he loved her +friendly; yet now had he no shame for all that had befallen, when he +bethought him of the Sun-beam and the love she had for him. And also he +had a deeming that the Bride would better of her grief. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. THE CHIEFTAINS TAKE COUNSEL IN THE HALL OF THE FACE. + + +THEN turned Face-of-god back into the Hall, and saw where Iron-face sat +at the daïs, and with him Folk-might and Stone-face and the Elder of the +Dale-wardens, and Sun-beam withal; so he went soberly up to the board, +and sat himself down thereat beside Stone-face, over against Folk-might +and his father, beside whom sat the Sun-beam; and Folk-might looked on +him gravely, as a man powerful and trustworthy, yet was his look somewhat +sour. + +Then the Alderman said: ‘My son, I said not to thee come back presently, +because I wotted that thou wouldst surely do so, knowing that we have +much to speak of. For, whatever these thy friends may have done, or +whatsoever thou hast done with them to grieve us, all that must be set +aside at this present time, since the matter in hand is to save the Dale +and its folk. What sayest thou hereon? Since, young as thou mayst be, +thou art our War-leader, and doubtless shalt so be after the Folk-mote +hath been holden.’ + +Face-of-god answered not hastily: indeed, as he sat thinking for a minute +or two, the fair spring day seemed to darken about them or to glare into +the light of flames amidst the night-tide; and the joyous clamour without +doors seemed to grow hoarse and fearful as the sound of wailing and +shrieking. But he spake firmly and simply in a clear voice, and said: + +‘There can be no two words concerning what we have to aim at; these Dusky +Men we must slay everyone, though we be fewer than they be.’ + +Folk-might smiled and nodded his head; but the others sat staring down +the hall or into the hangings. + +Then spake Folk-might: ‘Thou wert a boy methought when I cast my spear at +thee last autumn, Face-of-god, but now hast thou grown into a man. Now +tell me, what deemest thou we must do to slay them all?’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Once again it is clear that we must fall upon them at +home in Rose-dale and Silver-dale.’ + +Again Folk-might nodded: but Iron-face said: + +‘Needeth this? May we not ward the Dale and send many bands into the +wood to fall upon them when we meet them? Yea, and so doing these our +guests have already slain many, as this valiant man hath told me e’en +now. Will ye not slay so many at last, that they shall learn to fear us, +and abide at home and leave us at peace?’ + +But Face-of-god said: ‘Meseemeth, father, that this is not thy rede, and +that thou sayest this but to try me: and perchance ye have been talking +about me when I was without in the street e’en now. Even if it might be +that we should thus cow these felons into abiding at home and tormenting +their own thralls at their ease, yet how then are our friends of the Wolf +holpen to their own again? And I shall tell thee that I have promised to +this man and this woman that I will give them no less than a man’s help +in this matter. Moreover, I have spoken in every house of the Dale, and +to the Shepherds and the Woodlanders, and there is no man amongst them +but will follow me in the quarrel. Furthermore, they have heard of the +thralldom that is done on men no great way from their own houses; yea, +they have seen it; and they remember the old saw, “Grief in thy +neighbour’s hall is grief in thy garth,” and sure it is, father, that +whether thou or I gainsay them, go they will to deliver the thralls of +the Dusky Men, and will leave us alone in the Dale.’ + +‘This is no less than sooth,’ said the Dale-warden, ‘never have men gone +forth more joyously to a merry-making than all men of us shall wend to +this war.’ + +‘But,’ said Face-of-god, ‘of one thing ye may be sure, that these men +will not abide our pleasure till we cut them all off in scattered bands, +nor will they sit deedless at home. Nor indeed may they; for we have +heard from their thralls that they look to have fresh tribes of them come +to hand to eat their meat and waste their servants, and these and they +must find new abodes and new thralls; and they are now warned by the +overthrows and slayings that they have had at our hands that we are +astir, and they will not delay long, but will fall upon us with all their +host; it might even be to-day or to-morrow.’ + +Said Folk-might: ‘In all this thou sayest sooth, brother of the Dale; and +to cut this matter short, I will tell you all, that yesterday we had with +us a runaway from Silver-dale (it is overlong to tell how we fell in with +her; for it was a woman). But she told us that this very moon is a new +tribe come into the Dale, six long hundreds in number, and twice as many +more are looked for in two eights of days, and that ere this moon hath +waned, that is, in twenty-four days, they will wend their ways straight +for Burgdale, for they know the ways thereto. So I say that Face-of-god +is right in all wise. But tell me, brother, hast thou thought of how we +shall come upon these men?’ + +‘How many men wilt thou lead into battle?’ said Face-of-god. + +Folk-might reddened, and said: ‘A few, a few; maybe two-hundreds all +told.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, ‘but some special gain wilt thou be to us.’ + +‘So I deem at least,’ said Folk-might. + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Good is that. Now have we held our Weapon-show in the +Dale, and we find that we together with you be sixteen long hundreds of +men; and the tale of the foemen that be now in Silver-dale, new-comers +and all, shall be three thousands or thereabout, and in Rose-dale hard on +a thousand.’ + +‘Scarce so many,’ said Folk-might; ‘some of the felons have died; we told +over our silver arm-rings yesterday, and the tale was three hundred and +eighty and six. Besides, they were never so many as thou deemest.’ + +‘Well,’ said Face-of-god, ‘yet at least they shall outnumber us sorely. +We may scarce leave the Dale unguarded when our host is gone; therefore I +deem that we shall have but one thousand of men for our onslaught on +Silver-dale.’ + +‘How come ye to that?’ said Stone-face. + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Abide a while, fosterer! Though the odds between us +be great, it is not to be hidden that I wot how ye of the Wolf know of +privy passes into Silver-dale; yea, into the heart thereof; and this is +the special gain ye have to give us. Therefore we, the thousand men, +falling on the foe unawares, shall make a great slaughter of them; and if +the murder be but grim enough, those thralls of theirs shall fear us and +not them, as already they hate them and not us, so that we may look to +them for rooting out these sorry weeds after the overthrow. And what +with one thing, what with another, we may cherish a good hope of clearing +Silver-dale at one stroke with the said thousand men. + +‘There remaineth Rose-dale, which will be easier to deal with, because +the Dusky Men therein are fewer and the thralls as many: that also would +I fall on at the same time as we fall on Silver-dale with the men that +are left over from the Silver-dale onslaught. Wherefore my rede is, that +we gather all those unmeet for battle in the field into this Burg, with +ten tens of men to strengthen them; which shall be enough for them, along +with the old men, and lads, and sturdy women, to defend themselves till +help comes, if aught of evil befall, or to flee into the mountains, or at +the worst to die valiantly. Then let the other five hundreds fare up to +Rose-dale, and fall on the Dusky Men therein about the same time, but not +before our onslaught on Silver-dale: thus shall hand help foot, so that +stumbling be not falling; and we may well hope that our rede shall +thrive.’ + +Then was he silent, and the Sun-beam looked upon him with gleaming eyes +and parted lips, waiting eagerly to hear what Folk-might would say. He +held his peace a while, drumming on the board with his fingers, and none +else spake a word. At last he said: + +‘War-leader of Burgdale, all that thou hast spoken likes me well, and +even so must it be done, saving that parting of our host and sending one +part to fall upon Rose-dale. I say, nay; let us put all our might into +that one stroke on Silver-dale, and then we are undone indeed if we fail; +but so shall we be if we fail anywise; but if we win Silver-dale, then +shall Rose-dale lie open before us.’ + +‘My brother,’ said Face-of-god, ‘thou art a tried warrior, and I but a +lad: but dost thou not see this, that whatever we do, we shall not at one +onslaught slay all the Dusky Men of Silver-dale, and those that flee +before us shall betake them to Rose-dale, and tell all the tale, and what +shall hinder them then from falling on Burgdale (since they are no great +way from it) after they have murdered what they will of the unhappy +people under their hands?’ + +Said Folk-might: ‘I say not but that there is a risk thereof, but in war +we must needs run such risks, and all should be risked rather than that +our blow on Silver-dale be light. For we be the fewer; and if the foemen +have time to call that to mind, then are we all lost.’ + +Said Stone-face: ‘Meseemeth, War-leader, that there is nought much to +dread in leaving Rose-dale to itself for a while; for not only may we +follow hard on the fleers if they flee to Rose-dale, and be there no long +time after them, before they have time to stir their host; but also after +the overthrow we shall be free to send men back to Burgdale by way of +Shadowy Vale. I deem that herein Folk-might hath the right of it.’ + +‘Even so say I,’ said the Alderman; ‘besides, we might theft leave more +folk behind us for the warding of the Dale. So, son, the risk whereof +thou speakest groweth the lesser the longer it is looked on.’ + +Then spake the Dale-warden: ‘Yet saving your wisdom, Alderman, the risk +is there yet. For if these felons come into the Dale at all, even if the +folk left behind hold the Burg and keep themselves unmurdered, yet may +they not hinder the foe from spoiling our homesteads; so that our folk +coming back in triumph shall find ruin at home, and spend weary days in +hunting their foemen, who shall, many of them, escape into the +Wild-wood.’ + +‘Yea,’ said the Sun-beam, ‘sooth is that; and Face-of-god is wise to +think of it and of other matters. Yet one thing we must bear in mind, +that all may not go smoothly in our day’s work in Silver-dale; so we must +have force there to fall back on, in case we miss our stroke at first. +Therefore, I say, send we no man to Rose-dale, and leave we no able +man-at-arms behind in the Burg, so that we have with us every blade that +may be gathered.’ + +Iron-face smiled and said: ‘Thou art wise, damsel; and I marvel that so +fair-fashioned a thing as thou can think so hardly of the meeting of the +fallow blades. But hearken! will not the Dusky Men hear that we have +stripped the Dale of fighting-men, and may they not then give our host +the go-by and send folk to ruin us?’ + +There was silence while Face-of-god looked down on the board; but +presently he lifted up his face and said: + +‘Folk-might was right when he said that all must be risked. Let us leave +Rose-dale till we have overcome them of Silver-dale. Moreover, my +father, thou must not deem of these felons as if they were of like wits +to us, to forecast the deeds to come, and weigh the chances nicely, and +unravel tangled clews. Rather they move like to the stares in autumn, or +the winter wild-geese, and will all be thrust forward by some sting that +entereth into their imaginations. Therefore, if they have appointed one +moon to wear before they fall upon us, they will not stir till then, and +we have time enough to do what must be done. Wherefore am I now of one +mind with the rest of you. Now meseemeth it were well that these things +which we have spoken here, and shall speak, should not be noised abroad +openly; nay, at the Folk-mote it would be well that nought be said about +the day or the way of our onslaught on Silver-dale, lest the foe take +warning and be on their guard. Though, sooth to say, did I deem that if +they had word of our intent they of Rose-dale would join themselves to +them of Silver-dale, and that we should thus have all our foes in one +net, then were I fain if the word would reach them. For my soul loathes +the hunting that shall befall up and down the wood for the slaying of a +man here, and two or three there, and the wearing of the days in +wandering up and down with weapons in the hand, and the spinning out of +hatred and delaying of peace.’ + +Then Iron-face reached his hand across the board and took his son’s hand, +and said: + +‘Hail to thee, son, for thy word! Herein thou speakest as if from my +very soul, and fain am I of such a War-leader.’ + +And desire drew the eyes of the Sun-beam to Face-of-god, and she beheld +him proudly. But he said: + +‘All hath been spoken that the others of us may speak; and now it falleth +to the part of Folk-might to order our goings for the tryst for the +onslaught, and the trysting-place shall be in Shadowy Vale. How sayest +thou, Chief of the Wolf?’ + +Said Folk-might: ‘I have little to say; and it is for the War-leader to +see to this closely and piecemeal. I deem, as we all deem, that there +should be no delay; yet were it best to wend not all together to Shadowy +Vale, but in divers bands, as soon as ye may after the Folk-mote, by the +sure and nigh ways that we shall show you. And when we are gathered +there, short is the rede, for all is ready there to wend by the passes +which we know throughly, and whereby it is but two days’ journey to the +head of Silver-dale, nigh to the caves of the silver, where the felons +dwell the thickest.’ + +He set his teeth, and his colour came and went: for as constantly as the +onslaught had been in his mind, yet whenever he spake of the great day of +battle, hope and joy and anger wrought a tumult in his soul; and now that +it was so nigh withal, he could not refrain his joy. + +But he spake again: ‘Now therefore, War-leader, it is for thee to order +the goings of thy folk. But I will tell thee that they shall not need to +take aught with them save their weapons and victual for the way, that is, +for thirty hours; because all is ready for them in Shadowy Vale, though +it be but a poor place as to victual. Canst thou tell us, therefore, +what thou wilt do?’ + +Face-of-god had knit his brows and become gloomy of countenance; but now +his face cleared, and he set his hand to his pouch, and drew forth a +written parchment, and said: + +‘This is the order whereof I have bethought me. Before the Folk-mote I +and the Wardens shall speak to the leaders of hundreds, who be mostly +here at the Fair, and give them the day and the hour whereon they shall, +each hundred, take their weapons and wend to Shadowy Vale, and also the +place where they shall meet the men of yours who shall lead them across +the Waste. These hundred-leaders shall then go straightway and give the +word to the captains of scores, and the captains of scores to the +captains of tens; and if, as is scarce doubtful, the Folk-mote yea-says +the onslaught and the fellowship with you of the Wolf, then shall those +leaders of tens bring their men to the trysting-place, and so go their +ways to Shadowy Vale. Now here I have the roll of our Weapon-show, and I +will look to it that none shall be passed over; and if ye ask me in what +order they had best get on the way, my rede is that a two hundred should +depart on the very evening of the day of the Folk-mote, and these to be +of our folk of the Upper Dale; and on the morning of the morrow of the +Folk-mote another two hundreds from the Dale; and in the evening of the +same day the folk of the Shepherds, three hundreds or more, and that will +be easy to them; again on the next day two more bands of the Lower Dale, +one in the morning, one in the evening. Lastly, in the earliest dawn of +the third day from the Folk-mote shall the Woodlanders wend their ways. +But one hundred of men let us leave behind for the warding of the Burg, +even as we agreed before. As for the place of tryst for the faring over +the Waste, let it be the end of the knolls just by the jaws of the pass +yonder, where the Weltering Water comes into the Dale from the East. How +say ye?’ + +They all said, and Folk-might especially, that it was right well devised, +and that thus it should be done. + +Then turned Face-of-god to the Dale-warden, and said: + +‘It were good, brother, that we saw the other wardens as soon as may be, +to do them to wit of this order, and what they have to do.’ + +Therewith he arose and took the Elder of the Dale-wardens away with him, +and the twain set about their business straight-way. Neither did the +others abide long in the Hall, but went out into the Burg to see the +chapmen and their wares. There the Alderman bought what he needed of +iron and steel and other matters; and Folk-might cheapened him a dagger +curiously wrought, and a web of gold and silk for the Sun-beam, for which +wares he paid in silver arm-rings, new-wrought and of strange fashion. + +But amidst of the chaffer was now a great ring of men; and in the midst +of the ring stood Redesman, fiddle and bow in hand, and with him were +four damsels wondrously arrayed; for the first was clad in a smock so +craftily wrought with threads of green and many colours, that it seemed +like a piece of the green field beset with primroses and cowslips and +harebells and windflowers, rather than a garment woven and sewn; and in +her hand she bore a naked sword, with golden hilts and gleaming blade. +But the second bore on her roses done in like manner, both blossoms and +green leaves, wherewith her body was covered decently, which else had +been naked. The third was clad as though she were wading the wheat-field +to the waist, and above was wrapped in the leaves and bunches of the +wine-tree. And the fourth was clad in a scarlet gown flecked with white +wool to set forth the winter’s snow, and broidered over with the burning +brands of the Holy Hearth; and she bore on her head a garland of +mistletoe. And these four damsels were clearly seen to image the four +seasons of the year—Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. But amidst them +stood a fountain or conduit of gilded work cunningly wrought, and full of +the best wine of the Dale, and gilded cups and beakers hung about it. + +So now Redesman fell to caressing his fiddle with the bow till it began +to make sweet music, and therewith the hearts of all danced with it; and +presently words come into his mouth, and he fell to singing; and the +damsels answered him: + + Earth-wielders, that fashion the Dale-dwellers’ treasure, + Soft are ye by seeming, yet hardy of heart! + No warrior amongst us withstandeth your pleasure; + No man from his meadow may thrust you apart. + + Fresh and fair are your bodies, but far beyond telling + Are the years of your lives, and the craft ye have stored. + Come give us a word, then, concerning our dwelling, + And the days to befall us, the fruit of the sword. + + _Winter saith_: + + When last in the feast-hall the Yule-fire flickered, + The foot of no foeman fared over the snow, + And nought but the wind with the ash-branches bickered: + Next Yule ye may deem it a long time ago. + + _Autumn saith_: + + Loud laughed ye last year in the wheat-field a-smiting; + And ye laughed as your backs drave the beam of the press. + When the edge of the war-sword the acres are lighting + Look up to the Banner and laugh ye no less. + + _Summer saith_: + + Ye called and I came, and how good was the greeting, + When ye wrapped me in roses both bosom and side! + Here yet shall I long, and be fain of our meeting, + As hidden from battle your coming I bide. + + _Spring saith_: + + I am here for your comfort, and lo! what I carry; + The blade with the bright edges bared to the sun. + To the field, to the work then, that e’en I may tarry + For the end of the tale in my first days begun! + +Therewith the throng opened, and a young man stepped lightly into the +ring, clad in very fair armour, with a gilded helm on his head; and he +took the sword from the hand of the Maiden of Spring, and waved it in the +air till the westering sun flashed back from it. Then each of the four +damsels went up to the swain and kissed his mouth; and Redesman drew the +bow across the strings, and the four damsels sang together, standing +round about the young warrior: + + It was but a while since for earth’s sake we trembled, + Lest the increase our life-days had won for the Dale, + All the wealth that the moons and the years had assembled, + Should be but a mock for the days of your bale. + + But now we behold the sun smite on the token + In the hand of the Champion, the heart of a man; + We look down the long years and see them unbroken; + Forth fareth the Folk by the ways it began. + + So bid ye these chapmen in autumn returning, + To bring iron for ploughshares and steel for the scythe, + And the over-sea oil that hath felt the sun’s burning, + And fair webs for your women soft-spoken and blithe; + + And pledge ye your word in the market to meet them, + As many a man and as many a maid, + As eager as ever, as guest-fain to greet them, + And bide till the booth from the waggon is made. + + Come, guests of our lovers! for we, the year-wielders, + Bid each man and all to come hither and take + A cup from our hands midst the peace of our shielders, + And drink to the days of the Dale that we make. + +Then went the damsels to that wine-fountain, and drew thence cups of the +best and brightest wine of the Dale, and went round about the ring, and +gave drink to whomsoever would, both of the chapmen and the others; while +the weaponed youth stood in the midst bearing aloft his sword and shield +like an image in a holy place, and Redesman’s bow still went up and down +the strings, and drew forth a sweet and merry tune. + +Great game it was now to see the stark Burgdale carles dragging the Men +of the Plain, little loth, up to the front of the ring, that they might +stretch out their hands for a cup, and how many a one, as he took it, +took as much as he might of the damsel’s hand withal. As for the +damsels, they played the Holy Play very daintily, neither reddening nor +laughing, but faring so solemnly, and withal so sweetly and bright-faced, +that it might well have been deemed that they were in very sooth Maidens +of the God of Earth sent from the ever-enduring Hall to cheer the hearts +of men. + +So simply and blithely did the Men of Burgdale disport them after the +manner of their fathers, trusting in their valour and beholding the good +days to be. + +So wore the evening, and when night was come, men feasted throughout the +Burg from house to house, and every hall was full. But the Guests from +Shadowy Vale feasted in the Hall of the Face in all glee and goodwill; +and with them were the chief of the chapmen and two others; but the rest +of them had been laid hold of by goodmen of the Burg, and dragged into +their feast-halls, for they were fain of those guests and their tales. +One of the chapmen in the House of the Face knew Folk-might, and hailed +him by the name he had borne in the Cities, Regulus to wit; indeed, the +chief chapman knew him, and even somewhat over-well, for he had been held +to ransom by Folk-might in those past days, and even yet feared him, +because he, the chapman, had played somewhat of a dastard’s part to him. +But the other was an open-hearted and merry fellow, and no weakling; and +Folk-might was fain of his talk concerning times bygone, and the fields +they had foughten in, and other adventures that had befallen them, both +good and evil. + +As for Face-of-god, he went about the Hall soberly, and spake no more +than behoved him, so as not to seem a mar-feast; for the image of the +slaughter to be yet abode with him, and his heart foreboded the +after-grief of the battle. He had no speech with the Sun-beam till men +were sundering after the feast, and then he came close to her amidst of +the turmoil, and said: + +‘Time presses on me these days; but if thou wouldest speak with me +to-morrow as I would with thee, then mightest thou go on the Bridge of +the Burg about sunrise, and I will be there, and we two only.’ + +Her face, which had been somewhat sad that evening (for she had been +watching his), brightened at that word, and she took his hand as folk +came thronging round about them, and said: + +‘Yea, friend, I shall be there, and fain of thee.’ And therewithal they +sundered for that night. + +And all men went to sleep throughout the Burg: howbeit they set a watch +at the Burg-Gate; and Hall-face, when he was coming back from the +woodland ward about sunset, fell in with Redcoat of Waterless and four +score men on the Portway coming to meet him and take his place. All +which was clean contrary to the wont of the Burgdalers, who at most +whiles held no watch and ward, not even in Fair-time. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. FACE-OF-GOD TALKETH WITH THE SUN-BEAM. + + +FACE-OF-GOD was at the Bridge on the morrow before sun-rising, and as he +turned about at the Bridge-foot he saw the Sun-beam coming down the +street; and his heart rose to his mouth at the sight of her, and he went +to meet her and took her by the hand; and there were no words between +them till they had kissed and caressed each other, for there was no one +stirring about them. So they went over the Bridge into the meadows, and +eastward of the beaten path thereover. + +The grass was growing thick and strong, and it was full of flowers, as +the cowslip and the oxlip, and the chequered daffodil, and the wild +tulip: the black-thorn was well-nigh done blooming, but the hawthorn was +in bud, and in some places growing white. It was a fair morning, warm +and cloudless, but the night had been misty, and the haze still hung +about the meadows of the Dale where they were wettest, and the grass and +its flowers were heavy with dew, so that the Sun-beam went barefoot in +the meadow. She had a dark cloak cast over her kirtle, and had left her +glittering gown behind her in the House. + +They went along hand in hand exceeding fain of each other, and the sun +rose as they went, and the long beams of gold shone through the tops of +the tall trees across the grass they trod, and a light wind rose up in +the north, as Face-of-god stayed a moment and turned toward the Face of +the Sun and prayed to Him, while the Sun-beam’s hand left the +War-leader’s hand and stole up to his golden locks and lay amongst them. + +Presently they went on, and the feet of Face-of-god led him unwitting +toward the chestnut grove by the old dyke where he had met the Bride such +a little while ago, till he bethought whither he was going and stopped +short and reddened; and the Sun-beam noted it, but spake not; but he +said: ‘Hereby is a fair place for us to sit and talk till the day’s work +beginneth.’ + +So then he turned aside, and soon they came to a hawthorn brake out of +which arose a great tall-stemmed oak, showing no green as yet save a +little on its lower twigs; and anigh it, yet with room for its boughs to +grow freely, was a great bird-cherry tree, all covered now with +sweet-smelling white blossoms. There they sat down on the trunk of a +tree felled last year, and she cast off her cloak, and took his face +between her two hands and kissed him long and fondly, and for a while +their joy had no word. But when speech came to them, it was she that +spake first and said: + +‘Gold-mane, my dear, sorely I wonder at thee and at me, how we are +changed since that day last autumn when I first saw thee. Whiles I +think, didst thou not laugh when thou wert by thyself that day, and mock +at me privily, that I must needs take such wisdom on myself, and lesson +thee standing like a stripling before me. Dost thou not call it all to +mind and make merry over it, now that thou art become a great chieftain +and a wise warrior, and I am yet what I always was, a young maiden of the +kindred; save that now I abide no longer for my love?’ + +Her face was exceeding bright and rippled with joyous smiles, and he +looked at her and deemed that her heart was overflowing with happiness, +and he wondered at her indeed that she was so glad of him, and he said: + +‘Yea, indeed, oft do I see that morning in the woodland hall and thee and +me therein, as one looketh on a picture; yea verily, and I laugh, yet is +it for very bliss; neither do I mock at all. Did I not deem thee a God +then? and am I not most happy now when I can call it thus to mind? And +as to thee, thou wert wise then, and yet art thou wise now. Yea, I +thought thee a God; and if we are changed, is it not rather that thou +hast lifted me up to thee, and not come down to me?’ + +Yet therewithal he knit his brows somewhat and said: + +‘Yet thou hast not to tell me that all thy love for thy Folk, and thy +yearning hope for its recoverance, was but a painted show. Else why +shouldst thou love me the better now that I am become a chieftain, and +therefore am more meet to understand thy hope and thy sorrow? Did I not +behold thee as we stood before the Wolf of the Hall of Shadowy Vale, how +the tears stood in thine eyes as thou beheldest him, and thine hand in +mine quivered and clung to me, and thou wert all changed in a moment of +time? Was all this then but a seeming and a beguilement?’ + +‘O young man,’ she said, ‘hast thou not said it, that we stood there +close together, and my hand in thine and desire growing up in me? Dost +thou not know how this also quickeneth the story of our Folk, and our +goodwill towards the living, and remembrance of the dead? Shall they +have lived and desired, and we deny desire and life? Or tell me: what +was it made thee so chieftain-like in the Hall yesterday, so that thou +wert the master of all our wills, for as self-willed as some of us were? +Was it not that I, whom thou deemest lovely, was thereby watching thee +and rejoicing in thee? Did not the sweetness of thy love quicken thee? +Yet because of that was thy warrior’s wisdom and thy foresight an empty +show? Heedest thou nought the Folk of the Dale? Wouldest thou sunder +from the children of the Fathers, and dwell amongst strangers?’ + +He kissed her and smiled on her and said: ‘Did I not say of thee that +thou wert wiser than the daughters of men? See how wise thou hast made +me!’ + +She spake again: ‘Nay, nay, there was no feigning in my love for my +people. How couldest thou think it, when the Fathers and the kindred +have made this body that thou lovest, and the voice of their songs is in +the speech thou deemest sweet?’ + +He said: ‘Sweet friend, I deemed not that there was feigning in thee: I +was but wondering what I am and how I was fashioned, that I should make +thee so glad that thou couldst for a while forget thy hope of the days +before we met.’ + +She said: ‘O how glad, how glad! Yet was I nought hapless. In despite +of all trouble I had no down-weighing grief, and I had the hope of my +people before me. Good were my days; but I knew not till now how glad a +child of man may be.’ + +Their words were hushed for a while amidst their caresses. Then she +said: + +‘Gold-mane, my friend, I mocked not my past self because I deem that I +was a fool then, but because I see now that all that my wisdom could do, +would have come about without my wisdom; and that thou, deeming thyself +something less than wise, didst accomplish the thing I craved, and that +which thou didst crave also; and withal wisdom embraced thee, along with +love.’ + +Therewith she cast her arms about him and said: + +‘O friend, I mock myself of this: that erst thou deemedst me a God and +fearedst me, but now thou seemest to me to be a God, and I fear thee. +Yea, though I have longed so sore to be with thee since the day of +Shadowy Vale, and though I have wearied of the slow wearing of the days, +and it hath tormented me; yet now that I am with thee, I bless the +torment of my longing; for it is but my longing that compelleth me to +cast away my fear of thee and caress thee, because I have learned how +sweet it is to love thee thus.’ + +He wound his arms about her, and sweeter was their longing than mere joy; +and though their love was beyond measure, yet was therein no shame to +aught, not even to the lovely Dale and that fair season of spring, so +goodly they were among the children of men. + +In a while they arose and turned homeward, and went over the open meadow, +and it was yet early, and the dew was as heavy on the grass as before, +though the wide sunlight was now upon it, glittering on the wet blades, +and shining through the bells of the chequered daffodils till they looked +like gouts of blood. + +‘Look,’ said Sun-beam, as they went along by the same way whereas they +came, ‘deemest thou not that other speech-friends besides us have been +abroad to talk together apart on this morning of the eve of battle. It +is nought unwonted, that we do, even though we forget the trouble of the +people to think of our own joy for a while.’ + +The smile died out of her face as she spoke, and she said: + +‘O friend, this much may I say for myself in all sooth, that indeed I +would die for the kindred and its good days, nor falter therein; but if I +am to die, might I but die in thine arms!’ + +He looked very lovingly on her, and put his arm about her and kissed her +and said: ‘What ails us to stand in the doom-ring and bear witness +against ourselves before the kindred? Now I will say, that whatsoever +the kindred may or can call upon me to do, that will I do, nor grudge the +deed: I am sackless before them. But that is true which I spake to thee +when we came together up out of Shadowy Vale, to wit, that I am no +strifeful man, but a peaceful; and I look to it to win through this war, +and find on the other side either death, or life amongst a happy folk; +and I deem that this is mostly the mind of our people.’ + +She said: ‘Thou shalt not die, thou shalt not die!’ + +‘Mayhappen not,’ he said; ‘yet yesterday I could not but look into the +slaughter to come, and it seemed to me a grim thing, and darkened the day +for me; and I grew acold as a man walking with the dead. But tell me: +thou sayest I shall not die; dost thou say this only because I am become +dear to thee, or dost thou speak it out of thy foresight of things to +come?’ + +She stopped and looked silently a while over the meadows towards the +houses of the Thorp: they were standing now on the border of a shallow +brook that ran down toward the Weltering Water; it had a little strand of +fine sand like the sea-shore, driven close together, and all moist, +because that brook was used to flood the meadow for the feeding of the +grass; and the last evening the hatches which held up the water had been +drawn, so that much had ebbed away and left the strand aforesaid. + +After a while the Sun-beam turned to Face-of-god, and she was become +somewhat pale; she said: + +‘Nay, I have striven to see, and can see nought save the picture of hope +and fear that I make for myself. So it oft befalleth foreseeing women, +that the love of a man cloudeth their vision. Be content, dear friend; +it is for life or death; but whichso it be, the same for me and thee +together?’ + +‘Yea,’ he said, ‘and well content I am; so now let each of us trust in +the other to be both good and dear, even as I trusted in thee the first +hour that I looked on thee.’ + +‘It is well,’ she said; ‘it is well. How fair thou art; and how fair is +the morn, and this our Dale in the goodly season; and all this abideth us +when the battle is over.’ + +Once more her voice became sweet and wheedling, and the smile lit up her +face again, and she pointed down to the sand with her finger, and said: + +‘See thou! Here indeed have other lovers passed by across the brook. +Shall we wish them good luck?’ + +He laughed and looked down on the sand, and said: + +‘Thou art in haste to make a story up. Indeed I see that these first +footprints are of a woman, for no carle of the Dale has a foot as small; +for we be tall fellows; and these others withal are a man’s footprints; +and if they showed that they had been walking side by side, simple had +been thy tale; but so it is not. I cannot say that these two pairs of +feet went over the brook within five minutes of each other; but sure it +is that they could not have been faring side by side. Well, belike they +were lovers bickering, and we may wish them luck out of that. Truly it +is well seen that Bow-may hath done thine hunting for thee, dear friend; +or else wouldest thou have lacked venison; for thou hast no hunter’s +eye.’ + +‘Well,’ she said, ‘but wish them luck, and give me thine hand upon it.’ + +He took her hand, and fondled it, and said: ‘By this hand of my +speech-friend, I wish these twain all luck, in love and in leisure, in +faring and fighting, in sowing and samming, in getting and giving. Is it +well enough wished? If so it be, then come thy ways, dear friend; for +the day’s work is at hand.’ + +‘It is well wished,’ she said. ‘Now hearken: by the valiant hand of the +War-leader, by the hand that shall unloose my girdle, I wish these twain +to be as happy as we be.’ + +He made as if to draw her away, but she hung aback to set the print of +her foot beside the woman’s foot, and then they went on together, and +soon crossed the Bridge, and came home to the House of the Face. + +When they had broken their fast, Face-of-god would straight get to his +business of ordering matters for the warfare, and was wishful to speak +with Folk-might; but found him not, either in the House or the street. +But a man said: + +‘I saw the tall Guest come abroad from the House and go toward the Bridge +very early in the morning.’ + +The Sun-beam, who was anigh when that was spoken, heard it and smiled, +and said: ‘Gold-mane, deemest thou that it was my brother whom we +blessed?’ + +‘I wot not,’ he said; ‘but I would he were here, for this gear must +speedily be looked to.’ + +Nevertheless it was nigh an hour before Folk-might came home to the +House. He strode in lightly and gaily, and shaking the crest of his +war-helm as he went. He looked friendly on Face-of-god, and said to him: + +‘Thou hast been seeking me, War-leader; but grudge it not that I have +caused thee to tarry. For as things have gone, I am twice the man for +thine helping that I was yester-eve; and thou art so ready and deft, that +all will be done in due time.’ + +He looked as if he would have had Face-of-god ask of him what made him so +fain, but Face-of-god said only: + +‘I am glad of thy gladness; but now let us dally no longer, for I have +many folk to see to-day and much to set a-going.’ + +So therewith they spake together a while, and then went their ways +together toward Carlstead and the Woodlanders. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. FOLK-MIGHT SPEAKETH WITH THE BRIDE. + + +IT must be told that those footprints which Face-of-god and the Sun-beam +had blessed betwixt jest and earnest had more to do with them than they +wotted of. For Folk-might, who had had many thoughts and longings since +he had seen the Bride again, rose up early about sunrise, and went +out-a-doors, and wandered about the Burg, letting his eyes stray over the +goodly stone houses and their trim gardens, yet noting them little, since +the Bride was not there. + +At last he came to where there was an open place, straight-sided, longer +than it was wide, with a wall on each side of it, over which showed the +blossomed boughs of pear and cherry and plum-trees: on either hand before +the wall was a row of great lindens, now showing their first tender +green, especially on their lower twigs, where they were sheltered by the +wall. At the nether end of this place Folk-might saw a grey stone house, +and he went towards it betwixt the lindens, for it seemed right great, +and presently was but a score of paces from its door, and as yet there +was no man, carle or queen, stirring about it. + +It was a long low house with a very steep roof; but belike the hall was +built over some undercroft, for many steps went up to the door on either +hand; and the doorway was low, with a straight lintel under its arch. +This house, like the House of the Face, seemed ancient and somewhat +strange, and Folk-might could not choose but take note of it. The front +was all of good ashlar work, but it was carven all over, without heed +being paid to the joints of the stones, into one picture of a flowery +meadow, with tall trees and bushes in it, and fowl perched in the trees +and running through the grass, and sheep and kine and oxen and horses +feeding down the meadow; and over the door at the top of the stair was +wrought a great steer bigger than all the other neat, whose head was +turned toward the sun-rising and uplifted with open mouth, as though he +were lowing aloud. Exceeding fair seemed that house to Folk-might, and +as though it were the dwelling of some great kindred. + +But he had scarce gone over it with his eyes, and was just about to draw +nigher yet to it, when the door at the top of those steps opened, and a +woman came out of the house clad in a green kirtle and a gown of brazil, +with a golden-hilted sword girt to her side. Folk-might saw at once that +it was the Bride, and drew aback behind one of the trees so that she +might not see him, if she had not already seen him, as it seemed not that +she had, for she stayed but for a moment on the top of the stair, looking +out down the tree-rows, and then came down the stair and went soberly +along the road, passing so close to Folk-might that he could see the +fashion of her beauty closely, as one looks into the work of some deftest +artificer. Then it came suddenly into his head that he would follow her +and see whither she was wending. ‘At least,’ said he to himself, ‘if I +come not to speech with her, I shall be nigh unto her, and shall see +somewhat of her beauty.’ + +So he came out quietly from behind the tree, and followed her softly; and +he was clad in no garment save his kirtle, and bare no weapons to clash +and jingle, though he had his helm on his head for lack of a softer hat. +He kept her well in sight, and she went straight onward and looked not +back. She went by the way whereas he had come, till they were in the +main street, wherein as yet was no one afoot; she made her way to the +Bridge, and passed over it into the meadows; but when she had gone but a +few steps, she stayed a little and looked on the ground, and as she did +so turned a little toward Folk-might, who had drawn back into the last of +the refuges over the up-stream buttresses. He saw that there was a +half-smile on her face, but he could not tell whether she were glad or +sorry. A light wind was beginning to blow, that stirred her raiment and +raised a lock of hair that had strayed from the golden fillet round about +her head, and she looked most marvellous fair. + +Now she looked along the grass that glittered under the beams of the +newly-risen sun, and noted belike how heavy the dew lay on it; and the +grass was high already, for the spring had been hot, and haysel would be +early in the Dale. So she put off her shoes, that were of deerskin and +broidered with golden threads, and turned somewhat from the way, and hung +them up amidst the new green leaves of a hawthorn bush that stood nearby, +and so went thwart the meadow somewhat eastward straight from that bush, +and her feet shone out like pearls amidst the deep green grass. + +Folk-might followed presently, and she stayed not again, nor turned, nor +beheld him; he recked not if she had, for then would he have come up with +her and hailed her, and he knew that she was no foolish maiden to start +at the sight of a man who was the friend of her Folk. + +So they went their ways till she came to the strand of the water-meadow +brook aforesaid, and she went through the little ripples of the shallow +without staying, and on through the tall deep grass of the meadow beyond, +to where they met the brook again; for it swept round the meadow in a +wide curve, and turned back toward itself; so it was some half furlong +over from water to water. + +She stood a while on the brink of the brook here, which was brim-full and +nigh running into the grass, because there was a dam just below the +place; and Folk-might drew nigher to her under cover of the thorn-bushes, +and looked at the place about her and beyond her. The meadow beyond +stream was very fair and flowery, but not right great; for it was bounded +by a grove of ancient chestnut trees, that went on and on toward the +southern cliffs of the Dale: in front of the chestnut wood stood a broken +row of black-thorn bushes, now growing green and losing their blossom, +and he could see betwixt them that there was a grassy bank running along, +as if there had once been a turf-wall and ditch round about the chestnut +trees. For indeed this was the old place of tryst between Gold-mane and +the Bride, whereof the tale hath told before. + +The Bride stayed scarce longer than gave him time to note all this; but +he deemed that she was weeping, though he could not rightly see her face; +for her shoulders heaved, and she hung her face adown and put up her +hands to it. But now she went a little higher up the stream, where the +water was shallower, and waded the stream and went up over the meadow, +still weeping, as he deemed, and went between the black-thorn bushes, and +sat her down on the grassy bank with her back to the chestnut trees. + +Folk-might was ashamed to have seen her weeping, and was half-minded to +turn him back again at once; but love constrained him, and he said to +himself, ‘Where shall I see her again privily if I pass by this time and +place?’ So he waited a little till he deemed she might have mastered the +passion of tears, and then came forth from his bush, and went down to the +water and crossed it, and went quietly over the meadow straight towards +her. But he was not half-way across, when she lifted up her face from +between her hands and beheld the man coming. She neither started nor +rose up; but straightened herself as she sat, and looked right into +Folk-might’s eyes as he drew near, though the tears were not dry on her +cheeks. + +Now he stood before her, and said: ‘Hail to the Daughter of a mighty +House! Mayst thou live happy!’ + +She answered: ‘Hail to thee also, Guest of our Folk! Hast thou been +wandering about our meadows, and happened on me perchance?’ + +‘Nay,’ he said; ‘I saw thee come forth from the House of the Steer, and I +followed thee hither.’ + +She reddened a little, and knit her brow, and said: + +‘Thou wilt have something to say to me?’ + +‘I have much to say to thee,’ he said; ‘yet it was sweet to me to behold +thee, even if I might not speak with thee.’ + +She looked on him with her deep simple eyes, and neither reddened again, +nor seemed wroth; then she said: + +‘Speak what thou hast in thine heart, and I will hearken without anger +whatsoever it may be; even if thou hast but to tell me of the passing +folly of a mighty man, which in a month or two he will not remember for +sorrow or for joy. Sit here beside me, and tell me thy thought.’ + +So he sat him adown and said: ‘Yea, I have much to say to thee, but it is +hard to me to say it. But this I will say: to-day and yesterday make the +third time I have seen thee. The first time thou wert happy and calm, +and no shadow of trouble was on thee; the second time thine happy days +were waning, though thou scarce knewest it; but to-day and yesterday thou +art constrained by the bonds of grief, and wouldest loosen them if thou +mightest.’ + +She said: ‘What meanest thou? How knowest thou this? How may a stranger +partake in my joy and my sorrow?’ + +He said: ‘As for yesterday, all the people might see thy grief and know +it. But when I beheld thee the first time, I saw thee that thou wert +more fair and lovely than all other women; and when I was away from thee, +the thought of thee and thine image were with me, and I might not put +them away; and oft at such and such a time I wondered and said to myself, +what is she doing now? though god wot I was dealing with tangles and +troubles and rough deeds enough. But the second time I beheld thee, when +I had looked to have great joy in the sight of thee, my heart was smitten +with a pang of grief; for I saw thee hanging on the words and the looks +of another man, who was light-minded toward thee, and that thou wert +troubled with the anguish of doubt and fear. And he knew it not, nor saw +it, though I saw it.’ + +Her face grew troubled, and the tearful passion stirred within her. But +she held it aback, and said, as anyone might have said it: + +‘How wert thou in the Dale, mighty man? We saw thee not.’ + +He said: ‘I came hither hidden in other semblance than mine own. But +meddle not therewith; it availeth nought. Let me say this, and do thou +hearken to it. I saw thee yesterday in the street, and thou wert as the +ghost of thine old gladness; although belike thou hast striven with +sorrow; for I see thee with a sword by thy side, and we have been told +that thou, O fairest of women, hast given thyself to the Warrior to be +his damsel.’ + +‘Yea,’ she said, ‘that is sooth.’ + +He went on: ‘But the face which thou bearedst yesterday against thy will, +amidst all the people, that was because thou hadst seen my sister the +Sun-beam for the first time, and Face-of-god with her, hand clinging to +hand, lip longing for lip, desire unsatisfied, but glad with all hope.’ + +She laid hand upon hand in the lap of her gown, and looked down, and her +voice trembled as she said: + +‘Doth it avail to talk of this?’ + +He said: ‘I know not: it may avail; for I am grieved, and shall be whilst +thou art grieved; and it is my wont to strive with my griefs till I amend +them.’ + +She turned to him with kind eyes and said: + +‘O mighty man, canst thou clear away the tangle which besetteth the soul +of her whose hope hath bewrayed her? Canst thou make hope grow up in her +heart? Friend, I will tell thee that when I wed, I shall wed for the +sake of the kindred, hoping for no joy therein. Yea, or if by some +chance the desire of man came again into my heart, I should strive with +it to rid myself of it, for I should know of it that it was but a wasting +folly, that should but beguile me, and wound me, and depart, leaving me +empty of joy and heedless of life.’ + +He shook his head and said: ‘Even so thou deemest now; but one day it +shall be otherwise. Or dost thou love thy sorrow? I tell thee, as it +wears thee and wears thee, thou shalt hate it, and strive to shake it +off.’ + +‘Nay, nay,’ she said; ‘I love it not; for not only it grieveth me, but +also it beateth me down and belittleth me.’ + +‘Good is that,’ said he. ‘I know how strong thine heart is. Now, wilt +thou take mine hand, which is verily the hand of thy friend, and remember +what I have told thee of my grief which cannot be sundered from thine? +Shall we not talk more concerning this? For surely I shall soon see thee +again, and often; since the Warrior, who loveth me belike, leadeth thee +into fellowship with me. Yea, I tell thee, O friend, that in that +fellowship shalt thou find both the seed of hope, and the sun of desire +that shall quicken it.’ + +Therewith he arose and stood before her, and held out to her his hand all +hardened with the sword-hilt, and she took it, and stood up facing him, +and said: + +‘This much will I tell thee, O friend; that what I have said to thee this +hour, I thought not to have said to any man; or to talk with a man of the +grief that weareth me, or to suffer him to see my tears; and marvellous I +deem it of thee, for all thy might, that thou hast drawn this speech from +out of me, and left me neither angry nor ashamed, in spite of these +tears; and thou whom I have known not, though thou knewest me! + +‘But now it were best that thou depart, and get thee home to the House of +the Face, where I was once so frequent; for I wot that thou hast much to +do; and as thou sayest, it will be in warfare that I shall see thee. Now +I thank thee for thy words and the thought thou hast had of me, and the +pain which thou hast taken to heal my hurt: I thank thee, I thank thee, +for as grievous as it is to show one’s hurts even to a friend.’ + +He said: ‘O Bride, I thank thee for hearkening to my tale; and one day +shall I thank thee much more. Mayest thou fare well in the Field and +amidst the Folk!’ + +Therewith he kissed her hand, and turned away, and went across the meadow +and the stream, glad at heart and blithe with everyone; for kindness grew +in him as gladness grew. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. OF THE FOLK-MOTE OF THE DALESMEN, THE SHEPHERD-FOLK, AND +THE WOODLAND CARLES: THE BANNER OF THE WOLF DISPLAYED. + + +NOW came the day of the Great Folk-mote, and there was much thronging +from everywhere to the Mote-stead, but most from Burgstead itself, +whereas few of the Dale-dwellers who had been at the Fair had gone back +home. Albeit some of the Shepherds and of the Dalesmen of the +westernmost Dale had brought light tents, and tilted themselves in in the +night before the Mote down in the meadows below the Mote-stead. From +early morning there had been a stream of folk on the Portway setting +westward; and many came thus early that they might hold converse with +friends and well-wishers; and some that they might disport them in the +woods. Men went in no ordered bands, as the Burgstead men at least had +done on the day of the Weapon-show, save that a few of them who were +arrayed the bravest gathered about the banners, and went with them to the +Mote-stead; for all the banners must needs be there. + +The Folk-mote was to be hallowed-in three hours before noon, as all men +knew; therefore an hour before that time were all men of the Dale and the +Shepherds assembled that might be looked for, save the Alderman and the +chieftains with the banner of the Burg, and these were not like to come +many minutes before the Hallowing. Folk were gathered on the Field in +such wise, that the men-at-arms made a great ring round about the +Doom-ring, (albeit there were many old men there, girt with swords that +they should never heave up again in battle), so that without that ring +there was nought save women and children. But when all the other Houses +were assembled, men looked around, and beheld the place of the +Woodlanders that it was empty; and they marvelled that they were thus +belated. For now all was ready, and a watcher had gone up to the Tower +on the height, and had with him the great Horn of Warning, which could be +heard past the Mote-stead and a great way down the Dale: and if he saw +foes coming from the East he should blow one blast; if from the South, +two; if from the West, three; if from the North, four. + +So half an hour from the appointed time of Hallowing rose the rumour that +the Alderman was on the road, and presently they of the women who were on +the outside of the throng, by drawing nigh to the edge of the sheer rock, +could behold the Banner of the Burg on the Portway, and soon after could +see the wain, done about with green boughs, wherein sat the chieftains in +their glittering war-gear. Speedily they spread the tidings, and a +confused shout went up into the air; and in a little while the wain +stayed on Wildlake’s Way at the bottom of the steep slope that went up to +the Mote-stead, and the banner of the Burg came on proudly up the hill. +Soon all men beheld it, and saw that the tall Hall-face bore it in front +of his brother Face-of-god, who came on gleaming in war-gear better than +most men had seen; which was indeed of his father’s fashioning, and his +father’s gift to him that morning. + +After Face-of-god came the Alderman, and with him Folk-might leading the +Sun-beam by the hand, and then Stone-face and the Elder of the +Dale-wardens; and then the six Burg-wardens: as to the other +Dale-wardens, they were in their places on the Field. + +So now those who had been standing up turned their faces toward the Altar +of the Gods, and those who had been sitting down sprang to their feet, +and the confused rumour of the throng rose into a clear shout as the +chieftains went to their places, and sat them down on the turf-seats +amidst the Doom-ring facing the Speech-hill and the Altar of the Gods. +Amidmost sat the Alderman, on his right hand Face-of-god, and out from +him Hall-face, and then Stone-face and three of the Wardens; but on his +left hand sat first the two Guests, then the Elder of the Dale-wardens, +and then the other three Burg-wardens; as for the Banner of the Burg, its +staff was stuck into the earth behind them, and the Banner raised itself +in the morning wind and flapped and rippled over their heads. + +There then they sat, and folk abided, and it still lacked some minutes of +the due time, as the Alderman wotted by the shadow of the great +standing-stone betwixt him and the Altar. Therewithal came the sound of +a great horn from out of the wood on the north side, and men knew it for +the horn of the Woodland Carles, and were glad; for they could not think +why they should be belated; and now men stood up a-tiptoe and on other’s +shoulders to look over the heads of the women and children to behold +their coming; but their empty place was at the southwest corner of the +ring of men. + +So presently men beheld them marching toward their place, cleaving the +throng of the women and children, a great company; for besides that they +had with them two score more of men under weapons than on the day of the +Weapon-show, all their little ones and women and outworn elders were with +them, some on foot, some riding on oxen and asses. In their forefront +went the two signs of the Battle-shaft and the War-spear. But moreover, +in front of all was borne a great staff with the cloth of a banner +wrapped round about it, and tied up with a hempen yarn that it might not +be seen. + +Stark and mighty men they looked; tall and lean, broad-shouldered, +dark-faced. As they came amongst the throng the voice of their horn died +out, and for a few moments they fared on with no sound save the tramp of +their feet; then all at once the man who bare the hidden banner lifted up +one hand, and straightway they fell to singing, and with that song they +came to their place. And this is some of what they sang: + + O white, white Sun, what things of wonder + Hast thou beheld from thy wall of the sky! + All the Roofs of the Rich and the grief thereunder, + As the fear of the Earl-folk flitteth by! + + Thou hast seen the Flame steal forth from the Forest + To slay the slumber of the lands, + As the Dusky Lord whom thou abhorrest + Clomb up to thy Burg unbuilt with hands. + + Thou lookest down from thy door the golden, + Nor batest thy wide-shining mirth, + As the ramparts fall, and the roof-trees olden + Lie smouldering low on the burning earth. + + When flitteth the half-dark night of summer + From the face of the murder great and grim, + ’Tis thou thyself and no new-comer + Shines golden-bright on the deed undim. + + Art thou our friend, O Day-dawn’s Lover? + Full oft thine hand hath sent aslant + Bright beams athwart the Wood-bear’s cover, + Where the feeble folk and the nameless haunt. + + Thou hast seen us quail, thou hast seen us cower, + Thou hast seen us crouch in the Green Abode, + While for us wert thou slaying slow hour by hour, + And smoothing down the war-rough road. + + Yea, the rocks of the Waste were thy Dawns upheaving, + To let the days of the years go through; + And thy Noons the tangled brake were cleaving + The slow-foot seasons’ deed to do. + + Then gaze adown on this gift of our giving, + For the WOLF comes wending frith and ford, + And the Folk fares forth from the dead to the living, + For the love of the Lief by the light of the Sword. + +Then ceased the song, and the whole band of the Woodlanders came pouring +tumultuously into the space allotted them, like the waters pouring over a +river-dam, their white swords waving aloft in the morning sunlight; and +wild and strange cries rose up from amidst them, with sobbing and weeping +of joy. But soon their troubled front sank back into ordered ranks, +their bright blades stood upright in their hands before them, and folk +looked on their company, and deemed it the very Terror of battle and +Render of the ranks of war. Right well were they armed; for though many +of their weapons were ancient and somewhat worn, yet were they the work +of good smiths of old days; and moreover, if any of them lacked good +war-gear of his own, that had the Alderman and his sons made good to +them. + +But before the hedge of steel stood the two tall men who held in their +hands the war-tokens of the Battle-shaft and the War-spear, and betwixt +them stood one who was indeed the tallest man of the whole assembly, who +held the great staff of the hidden banner. And now he reached up his +hand, and plucked at the yarn that bound it, which of set purpose was but +feeble, and tore it off, and then shook the staff aloft with both hands, +and shouted, and lo! the Banner of the Wolf with the Sun-burst behind +him, glittering-bright, new-woven by the women of the kindred, ran out in +the fresh wind, and flapped and rippled before His warriors there +assembled. + +Then from all over the Mote-stead arose an exceeding great shout, and all +men waved aloft their weapons; but the men of Shadowy Vale who were +standing amidst the men of the Face knew not how to demean themselves, +and some of them ran forth into the Field and leapt for joy, tossing +their swords into the air, and catching them by the hilts as they fell: +and amidst it all the Woodlanders now stood silent, unmoving, as men +abiding the word of onset. + +As for that brother and sister: the Sun-beam flushed red all over her +face, and pressed her hands to her bosom, and then the passion of tears +over-mastered her, and her breast heaved, and the tears gushed out of her +eyes, and her body was shaken with weeping. But Folk-might sat still, +looking straight before him, his eyes glittering, his teeth set, his +right hand clutching hard at the hilts of his sword, which lay naked +across his knees. And the Bride, who stood clad in her begemmed and +glittering war-array in the forefront of the Men of the Steer, nigh unto +the seats of the chieftains, beheld Folk-might, and her face flushed and +brightened, and still she looked upon him. The Alderman’s face was as of +one pleased and proud; yet was its joy shadowed as it were by a cloud of +compassion. Face-of-god sat like the very image of the War-god, and +stirred not, nor looked toward the Sun-beam; for still the thought of the +after-grief of battle, and the death of friends and folk that loved him, +lay heavy on his heart, for all that it beat wildly at the shouting of +the men. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. OF THE GREAT FOLK-MOTE: ATONEMENTS GIVEN, AND MEN MADE +SACKLESS. + + +AMIDST the clamour uprose the Alderman; for it was clear to all men that +the Folk-mote should be holden at once, and the matters of the War, and +the Fellowship, and the choosing of the War-leader, speedily dealt with. +So the Alderman fell to hallowing in the Folk-mote: he went up to the +Altar of the Gods, and took the Gold-ring off it, and did it on his arm; +then he drew his sword and waved it toward the four aírts, and spake; and +the noise and shouting fell, and there was silence but for him: + +‘Herewith I hallow in this Folk-mote of the Men of the Dale and the +Sheepcotes and the Woodland, in the name of the Warrior and the Earth-god +and the Fathers of the kindreds. Now let not the peace of the Mote be +broken. Let not man rise against man, or bear blade or hand, or stick or +stone against any. If any man break the Peace of the Holy Mote, let him +be a man accursed, a wild-beast in the Holy Places; an outcast from home +and hearth, from bed and board, from mead and acre; not to be holpen with +bread, nor flesh, nor wine; nor flax, nor wool, nor any cloth; nor with +sword, nor shield, nor axe, nor plough-share; nor with horse, nor ox, nor +ass; with no saddle-beast nor draught-beast; nor with wain, nor boat, nor +way-leading; nor with fire nor water; nor with any world’s wealth. Thus +let him who hath cast out man be cast out by man. Now is hallowed-in the +Folk-mote of the Men of the Dale and the Sheepcotes and the Woodlands.’ + +Therewith he waved his sword again toward the four aírts, and went and +sat down in his place. But presently he arose again, and said: + +‘Now if man hath aught to say against man, and claimeth boot of any, or +would lay guilt on any man’s head, let him come forth and declare it; and +the judges shall be named, and the case shall be tried this afternoon or +to-morrow. Yet first I shall tell you that I, the Alderman of the +Dalesmen, doomed one Iron-face of the House of the Face to pay a double +fine, for that he drew a sword at the Gate-thing of Burgstead with the +intent to break the peace thereof. Thou, Green-sleeve, bring forth the +peace-breaker’s fine, that Iron-face may lay the same on the Altar.’ + +Then came forth a man from the men of the Face bearing a bag, and he +brought it to Iron-face, who went up to the Altar and poured forth +weighed gold from the bag thereon, and said: + +‘Warden of the Dale, come thou and weigh it!’ + +‘Nay,’ quoth the Warden, ‘it needeth not, no man here doubteth thee, +Alderman Iron-face.’ + +A murmur of yeasay went up, and none had a word to say against the +Alderman, but they praised him rather: also men were eager to hear of the +war, and the fellowship, and to be done with these petty matters. Then +the Alderman rose again and said: + +‘Hath any man a grief against any other of the Kindreds of the Dale, or +the Sheepcotes, or the Woodlands?’ + +None answered or stirred; so after he had waited a while, he said: + +‘Is there any who hath any guilt to lay against a Stranger, an Outlander, +being such a man as he deems we can come at?’ + +Thereat was a stir amongst the Men of the Fleece of the Shepherds, and +their ranks opened, and there came forth an ill-favoured lean old man, +long-nebbed, blear-eyed, and bent, girt with a rusty old sword, but not +otherwise armed. And all men knew Penny-thumb, who had been ransacked +last autumn. As he came forth, it seemed as if his neighbours had been +trying to hold him back; but a stout, broad-shouldered man, black-haired +and red-bearded, made way for the old man, and led him out of the throng, +and stood by him; and this man was well armed at all points, and looked a +doughty carle. He stood side by side with Penny-thumb, right in front of +the men of his house, and looked about him at first somewhat uneasily, as +though he were ashamed of his fellow; but though many smiled, none +laughed aloud; and they forbore, partly because they knew the man to be a +good man, partly because of the solemn tide of the Folk-mote, and partly +in sooth because they wished all this to be over, and were as men who had +no time for empty mirth. + +Then said the Alderman: ‘What wouldest thou, Penny-thumb, and thou, +Bristler, son of Brightling?’ + +Then Penny-thumb began to speak in a high squeaky voice: ‘Alderman, and +Lord of the Folk!’ But therewithal Bristle, pulled him back, and said: + +‘I am the man who hath taken this quarrel upon me, and have sworn upon +the Holy Boar to carry this feud through; and we deem, Alderman, that if +they who slew Rusty and ransacked Penny-thumb be not known now, yet they +soon may be.’ + +As he spake, came forth those three men of the Shepherds and the two +Dalesmen who had sworn with him on the Holy Boar. Then up stood +Folk-might, and came forth into the field, and said: + +‘Bristler, son of Brightling, and ye other good men and true, it is but +sooth that the ransackers and the slayer may soon be known; and here I +declare them unto you: I it was and none other who slew Rusty; and I was +the leader of those who ransacked Penny-thumb, and cowed Harts-bane of +Greentofts. As for the slaying of Rusty, I slew him because he chased +me, and would not forbear, so that I must either slay or be slain, as +hath befallen me erewhile, and will befall again, methinks. As for the +ransacking of Penny-thumb, I needed the goods that I took, and he needed +them not, since he neither used them, nor gave them away, and, they being +gone, he hath lived no worser than aforetime. Now I say, that if ye will +take the outlawry off me, which, as I hear, ye laid upon me, not knowing +me, then will I handsel self-doom to thee, Bristler, if thou wilt bear +thy grief to purse, and I will pay thee what thou wilt out of hand; or if +perchance thou wilt call me to Holm, thither will I go, if thou and I +come unslain out of this war. As to the ransacking and cowing of +Harts-bane, I say that I am sackless therein, because the man is but a +ruffler and a man of violence, and hath cowed many men of the Dale; and +if he gainsay me, then do I call him to the Holm after this war is over; +either him or any man who will take his place before my sword.’ + +Then he held his peace, and man spake to man, and a murmur arose, as they +said for the more part that it was a fair and manly offer. But Bristler +called his fellows and Penny-thumb to him, and they spake together; and +sometimes Penny-thumb’s shrill squeak was heard above the deep-voiced +talk of the others; for he was a man that harboured malice. But at last +Bristler spake out and said: + +‘Tall man, we know that thou art a chieftain and of good will to the men +of the Dale and their friends, and that want drave thee to the +ransacking, and need to the manslaying, and neither the living nor the +dead to whom thou art guilty are to be called good men; therefore will I +bring the matter to purse, if thou wilt handsel me self-doom.’ + +‘Yea, even so let it be,’ quoth Folk-might; and stepped forward and took +Bristler by the hand, and handselled him self-doom. Then said Bristler: + +‘Though Rusty was no good man, and though he followed thee to slay thee, +yet was he in his right therein, since he was following up his goodman’s +gear; therefore shalt thou pay a full blood-wite for him, that is to say, +the worth of three hundreds in weed-stuff in whatso goods thou wilt. As +for the ransacking of Penny-thumb, he shall deem himself well paid if +thou give him our hundreds in weed-stuff for that which thou didst borrow +of him.’ + +Then Penny-thumb set up his squeak again, but no man hearkened to him, +and each man said to his neighbour that it was well doomed of Bristler, +and neither too much nor too little. But Folk-might bade Wood-wont to +bring thither to him that which he had borne to the Mote; and he brought +forth a big sack, and Folk-might emptied it on the earth, and lo! the +silver rings of the slain felons, and they lay in a heap on the green +field, and they were the best of silver. Then the Elder of the +Dale-wardens weighed out from the heap the blood-wite for Rusty, +according to the due measure of the hundred in weed-stuff, and delivered +it unto Bristler. And Folk-might said: + +‘Draw nigh now, Penny-thumb, and take what thou wilt of this gear, which +I need not, and grudge not at me henceforward.’ + +But Penny-thumb was afraid, and abode where he was; and Bristler laughed, +and said: ‘Take it, goodman, take it; spare not other men’s goods as thou +dost thine own.’ + +And Folk-might stood by, smiling faintly: so Penny-thumb plucked up a +heart, and drew nigh trembling, and took what he durst from that heap; +and all that stood by said that he had gotten a full double of what had +been awarded to him. But as for him, he went his ways straight from the +Mote-stead, and made no stay till he had gotten him home, and laid the +silver up in a strong coffer; and thereafter he bewailed him sorely that +he had not taken the double of that which he took, since none would have +said him nay. + +When he was gone, the Alderman arose and said: + +‘Now, since the fines have been paid duly and freely, according to the +dooming of Bristler, take we off the outlawry from Folk-might and his +fellows, and account them to be sackless before us.’ + +Then he called for other cases; but no man had aught more to bring +forward against any man, either of the kindreds or the Strangers. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. OF THE GREAT FOLK-MOTE: MEN TAKE REDE OF THE WAR-FARING, +THE FELLOWSHIP, AND THE WAR-LEADER. FOLK-MIGHT TELLETH WHENCE HIS PEOPLE +CAME. THE FOLK-MOTE SUNDERED. + + +NOW a great silence fell upon the throng, and they stood as men abiding +some new matter. Unto them arose the Alderman, and said: + +‘Men of the Dale, and ye Shepherds and Woodlanders; it is well known to +you that we have foemen in the wood and beyond it; and now have we gotten +sure tidings, that they will not abide at home or in the wood, but are +minded to fall upon us at home. Now therefore I will not ask you whether +ye will have peace or war; for with these foemen ye may have peace no +otherwise save by war. But if ye think with me, three things have ye to +determine: first, whether ye will abide your foes in your own houses, or +will go meet them at theirs; next, whether ye will take to you as fellows +in arms a valiant folk of the children of the Gods, who are foemen to our +foemen; and lastly, what man ye will have to be your War-leader. Now, I +bid all those here assembled, to speak hereof, any man of them that will, +either what they may have conceived in their own minds, or what their +kindred may have put into their mouths to speak.’ + +Therewith he sat down, and in a little while came forth old Hall-ward of +the House of the Steer, and stood before the Alderman, and said: ‘O +Alderman, all we say: Since war is awake we will not tarry, but will go +meet our foes while it is yet time. The valiant men of whom thou tellest +shall be our fellows, were there but three of them. We know no better +War-leader than Face-of-god of the House of the Face. Let him lead us.’ + +Therewith he went his ways; and next came forth War-well, and said: ‘The +House of the Bridge would have Face-of-god for War-leader, these tall men +for fellows, and the shortest way to meet the foe.’ And he went back to +his place. + +Next came Fox of Upton, and said: ‘Time presses, or much might be spoken. +Thus saith the House of the Bull: Let us go meet the foe, and take these +valiant strangers for way-leaders, and Face-of-god for War-leader.’ And +he also went back again. + +Then came forth two men together, an old man and a young, and the old man +spake as soon as he stood still: ‘The Men of the Vine bid me say their +will: They will not stay at home to have their houses burned over their +heads, themselves slain on their own hearths, and their wives haled off +to thralldom. They will take any man for their fellow in arms who will +smite stark strokes on their side. They know Face-of-god, and were +liefer of him for War-leader than any other, and they will follow him +wheresoever he leadeth. Thus my kindred biddeth me say, and I hight +Fork-beard of Lea. If I live through this war, I shall have lived +through five.’ + +Therewith he went back to his place; but the young man lifted up his +voice and said: ‘To all this I say yea, and so am I bidden by the kindred +of the Sickle. I am Red-beard of the Knolls, the son of my father.’ And +he went to his place again. + +Then came forth Stone-face, and said: ‘The House of the Face saith: Lead +us through the wood, O Face-of-god, thou War-leader, and ye warriors of +the Wolf. I am Stone-face, as men know, and this word hath been given to +me by the kindred.’ And he took his place again. + +Then came forth together the three chiefs of the Shepherds, to wit +Hound-under-Greenbury, Strongitharm, and the Hyllier; and Strongitharm +spake for all three, and said: + +‘The Men of Greenbury, and they of the Fleece and the Thorn, are of one +accord, and bid us say that they are well pleased to have Face-of-god for +War-leader; and that they will follow him and the warriors of the Wolf to +live or die with them; and that they are ready to go meet the foe at +once, and will not skulk behind the walls of Greenbury.’ + +Therewith the three went back again to their places. + +Then came forth that tall man that bare the Banner of the Wolf, when he +had given the staff into the hands of him who stood next. He came and +stood over against the seat of the chieftains; and for a while he could +say no word, but stood struggling with the strong passion of his joy; but +at last he lifted his hands aloft, and cried out in a loud voice: + +‘O war, war! O death! O wounding and grief! O loss of friends and +kindred! let all this be rather than the drawing back of meeting hands +and the sundering of yearning hearts!’ and he went back hastily to his +place. But from the ranks of the Woodlanders ran forth a young man, and +cried out: + +‘As is the word of Red-wolf, so is my word, Bears-bane of Carlstead; and +this is the word which our little Folk hath put into our mouths; and O! +that our hands may show the meaning of our mouths; for nought else can.’ + +Then indeed went up a great shout, though many forebore to cry out; for +now were they too much moved for words or sounds. And in special was +Face-of-god moved; and he scarce knew which way to look, lest he should +break out into sobs and weeping; for of late he had been much among the +Woodlanders, and loved them much. + +Then all the noise and clamour fell, and it was to men as if they who had +come thither a folk, had now become an host of war. + +But once again the Alderman rose up and spake: + +‘Now have ye yeasaid three things: That we take Face-of-god of the House +of the Face for our War-leader; that we fare under weapons at once +against them who would murder us; and that we take the valiant Folk of +the Wolf for our fellows in arms.’ + +Therewith he stayed his speech, and this time the shout arose clear and +most mighty, with the tossing up of swords and the clashing of weapons on +shields. + +Then he said: ‘Now, if any man will speak, here is the War-leader, and +here is the chief of our new friends, to answer to whatso any of the +kindred would have answered.’ + +Thereon came forth the Fiddle from amongst the Men of the Sickle, and +drew somewhat nigh to the Alderman, and said: + +‘Alderman, we would ask of the War-leader if he hath devised the manner +of our assembling, and the way of our war-faring, and the day of our +hosting. More than this I will not ask of him, because we wot that in so +great an assembly it may be that the foe may have some spy of whom we wot +not; and though this be not likely, yet some folk may babble; therefore +it is best for the wise to be wise everywhere and always. Therefore my +rede it is, that no man ask any more concerning this, but let it lie with +the War-leader to bring us face to face with the foe as speedily as he +may.’ + +All men said that this was well counselled. But Face-of-god arose and +said: ‘Ye Men of the Dale, ye Shepherds and Woodlanders, meseemeth the +Fiddle hath spoken wisely. Now therefore I answer him and say, that I +have so ordered everything since the Gate-thing was holden at Burgstead, +that we may come face to face with the foemen by the shortest of roads. +Every man shall be duly summoned to the Hosting, and if any man fail, let +it be accounted a shame to him for ever.’ + +A great shout followed on his words, and he sat down again. But Fox of +Upton came forth and said: + +‘O Alderman, we have yeasaid the fellowship of the valiant men who have +come to us from out of the waste; but this we have done, not because we +have known them, otherwise than by what our kinsman Face-of-god hath told +us concerning them, but because we have seen clearly that they will be of +much avail to us in our warfare. Now, therefore, if the tall chieftain +who sitteth beside thee were to do us to wit what he is, and whence he +and his are come, it were well, and fain were we thereof; but if he +listeth not to tell us, that also shall be well.’ + +Then arose Folk-might in his place; but or ever he could open his mouth +to speak, the tall Red-wolf strode forward bearing with him the Banner of +the Wolf and the Sun-burst, and came and stood beside him; and the wind +ran through the folds of the banner, and rippled it out above the heads +of those twain. Then Folk-might spake and said: + + ‘O Men of the Dale and the Sheepcotes, I will do as ye bid me do; + And fain were ye of the story if every deal ye knew. + But long, long were its telling, were I to tell it all: + Let it bide till the Cup of Deliverance ye drink from hall to hall. + + ‘Like you we be of the kindreds, of the Sons of the Gods we come, + Midst the Mid-earth’s mighty Woodland of old we had our home; + But of older time we abided ’neath the mountains of the Earth, + O’er which the Sun ariseth to waken woe and mirth. + + Great were we then and many; but the long days wore us thin, + And war, wherein the winner hath weary work to win. + And the woodland wall behind us e’en like ourselves was worn, + And the tramp of the hosts of the foemen adown its glades was borne + On the wind that bent our wheat-fields. So in the morn we rose, + And left behind the stubble and the autumn-fruited close, + And went our ways to the westward, nor turned aback to see + The glare of our burning houses rise over brake and tree. + But the foe was fierce and speedy, nor long they tarried there, + And through the woods of battle our laden wains must fare; + And the Sons of the Wolf were minished, and the maids of the Wolf + waxed few, + As amidst the victory-singing we fared the wild-wood through. + + ‘So saith the ancient story, that west and west we went, + And many a day of battle we had in brake, on bent; + Whilst here a while we tarried, and there we hastened on, + And still the battle-harvest from many a folk we won. + + ‘Of the tale of the days who wotteth? Of the years what man can tell, + While the Sons of the Wolf were wandering, and knew not where to + dwell? + But at last we clomb the mountains, and mickle was our toil, + As high the spear-wood clambered of the drivers of the spoil; + And tangled were the passes and the beacons flared behind, + And the horns of gathering onset came up upon the wind. + So saith the ancient story, that we stood in a mountain-cleft, + Where the ways and the valleys sundered to the right hand and the + left. + There in the place of sundering all woeful was the rede; + We knew no land before us, and behind was heavy need. + As the sword cleaves through the byrny, so there the mountain flank + Cleft through the God-kin’s people; and ne’er again we drank + The wine of war together, or feasted side by side + In the Feast-hall of the Warrior on the fruit of the battle-tide. + For there we turned and sundered; unto the North we went + And up along the waters, and the clattering stony bent; + And unto the South and the Sheepcotes down went our sister’s sons; + And O for the years passed over since we saw those valiant ones!’ + +He ceased, and laid his right hand on the banner-staff a little below the +left hand of Red-wolf; and men were so keen to hear each word that he +spake, that there was no cry nor sound of voices when he had done, only +the sound of the rippling banner of the Wolf over the heads of those +twain. The Sun-beam bowed her head now, and wept silently. But the +Bride, she had drawn her sword, and held it upright in her hand before +her, and the sun smote fire from out of it. + +Then it was but a little while before Red-wolf lifted up his voice, and +sang: + + ‘Hearken a wonder, O Folk of the Field, + How they that did sunder stand shield beside shield! + + Lo! the old wont and manner by fearless folk made, + On the Bole of the Banner the brothers’ hands laid. + + Lo! here the token of what hath betid! + Grown whole is the broken, found that which was hid. + + Now one way we follow whate’er shall befall; + As seeketh the swallow his yesteryear’s hall. + + Seldom folk fewer to fight-stead hath fared; + Ne’er have men truer the battle-reed bared. + + Grey locks now I carry, and old am I grown, + Nor looked I to tarry to meet with mine own. + + For we who remember the deeds of old days + Were nought but the ember of battle ablaze. + + For what man might aid us? what deed and what day + Should come where Weird laid us aloof from the way? + + What man save that other of Twain rent apart, + Our war-friend, our Brother, the piece of our heart. + + Then hearken the wonder how shield beside shield + The twain that did sunder wend down to the Field!’ + +Now when he had made an end, men could no longer forebear the shout; and +it went up into the heavens, and was borne by the west-wind down the Dale +to the ears of the stay-at-home women and men unmeet to go abroad, and it +quickened their blood and the spirits within them as they heard it, and +they smiled and were fain; for they knew that their kinsfolk were glad. + +But when there was quiet on the Mote-field again, Folk-might spake again +and said; + + ‘It is sooth that my Brother sayeth, and that now again we wend, + All the Sons of the Wolf together, till the trouble hath an end. + But as for that tale of the Ancients, it saith that we who went + To the northward, climbed and stumbled o’er many a stony bent, + Till we happed on that isle of the waste-land, and the grass of + Shadowy Vale, + Where we dwelt till we throve a little, and felt our might avail. + Then we fared abroad from the shadow and the little-lighted hold, + And the increase fell to the valiant, and the spoil to the + battle-bold, + And never a man gainsaid us with the weapons in our hands; + And in Silver-dale the happy we gat us life and lands. + + ‘So wore the years o’er-wealthy; and meseemeth that ye know + How we sowed and reaped destruction, and the Day of the overthrow: + How we leaned on the staff we had broken, and put our lives in the + hand + Of those whom we had vanquished and the feeble of the land; + And these were the stone of stumbling, and the burden not to be borne, + When the battle-blast fell on us and our day was over-worn. + Thus then did our wealth bewray us, and left us wise and sad; + And to you, bold men, it falleth once more to make us glad, + If so your hearts are bidding, and ye deem the deed of worth. + Such were we; what we shall be, ’tis yours to say henceforth.’ + +He said furthermore: ‘How great we have been I have told you already; and +ye shall see for yourselves how little we be now. Is it enough, and will +ye have us for friends and brothers? How say ye?’ + +They answered with shout upon shout, so that all the place and the +wild-wood round about was full of the voice of their crying; but when the +clamour fell, then spake the Alderman and said: + +‘Friend, and chieftain of the Wolf, thou mayst hear by this shouting of +the people that we have no mind to naysay our yea-say. And know that it +is not our use and manner to seek the strong for friends, and to thrust +aside the weak; but rather to choose for our friends them who are of like +mind to us, men in whom we put our trust. From henceforth then there is +brotherhood between us; we are yours, and ye are ours; and let this +endure for ever!’ + +Then were all men full of joy; and now at last the battle seemed at hand, +and the peace beyond the battle. + +Then men brought the hallowed beasts all garlanded with flowers into the +Doom-ring, and there were they slain and offered up unto the Gods, to wit +the Warrior, the Earth-god, and the Fathers; and thereafter was solemn +feast holden on the Field of the Folk-mote, and all men were fain and +merry. Nevertheless, not all men abode there the feast through; for or +ever the afternoon was well worn, were many men wending along the Portway +eastward toward the Upper Dale, each man in his war-gear and with a scrip +hung about him; and these were they who were bound for the trysting-place +and the journey over the waste. + +So the Folk-mote was sundered; and men went to their houses, and there +abode in peace the time of their summoning; since they wotted well that +the Hosting was afoot. + +But as for the Woodlanders, who were at the Mote-stead with all their +folk, women, children, and old men, they went not back again to +Carlstead; but prayed the neighbours of the Middle Dale to suffer them to +abide there awhile, which they yeasaid with a good will. So the +Woodlanders tilted themselves in, the more part of them, down in the +meadows below the Mote-stead, along either side of Wildlake’s Way; but +their ancient folk, and some of the women and children, the neighbours +would have into their houses, and the rest they furnished with victual +and all that they needed without price, looking upon them as their very +guests. For indeed they deemed that they could see that these men would +never return to Carlstead, but would abide with the Men of the Wolf in +Silver-dale, once it were won. And this they deemed but meet and right, +yet were they sorry thereof; for the Woodlanders were well beloved of all +the Dalesmen; and now that they had gotten to know that they were come of +so noble a kindred, they were better beloved yet, and more looked upon. + + + + +CHAPTER XL. OF THE HOSTING IN SHADOWY VALE. + + +IT was on the evening of the fourth day after the Folk-mote that there +came through the Waste to the rocky edge of Shadowy Vale a band of some +fifteen score of men-at-arms, and with them a multitude of women and +children and old men, some afoot, some riding on asses and bullocks; and +with them were sumpter asses and neat laden with household goods, and a +few goats and kine. And this was the whole folk of the Woodlanders come +to the Hosting in Shadowy Vale and the Home of the Children of the Wolf. +Their leaders of the way were Wood-father and Wood-wont and two other +carles of Shadowy Vale; and Red-wolf the tall, and Bears-bane and +War-grove were the captains and chieftains of their company. + +Thus then they entered into the narrow pass aforesaid, which was the +ingate to the Vale from the Waste, and little by little its dimness +swallowed up their long line. As they went by the place where the +lowering of the rock-wall gave a glimpse of the valley, they looked down +into it as Face-of-god had done, but much change was there in little +time. There was the black wall of crags on the other side stretching +down to the ghyll of the great Force; there ran the deep green waters of +the Shivering Flood; but the grass which Face-of-god had seen naked of +everything but a few kine, thereon now the tents of men stood thick. +Their hearts swelled within them as they beheld it, but they forebore the +shout and the cry till they should be well within the Vale, and so went +down silently into the darkness. But as their eyes caught that dim image +of the Wolf on the wall of the pass, man pointed it out to man, and not a +few turned and kissed it hurriedly; and to them it seemed that many a +kiss had been laid on that dear token since the days of old, and that the +hard stone had been worn away by the fervent lips of men, and that the +air of the mirk place yet quivered with the vows sworn over the +sword-blade. + +But down through the dark they went, and so came on to the stony scree at +the end of the pass and into the Vale; and the whole Folk save the three +chieftains flowed over it and stood about it down on the level grass of +the Vale. But those three stood yet on the top of the scree, bearing the +war-signs of the Shaft and the Spear, and betwixt them the banner of the +Wolf and the Sunburst newly displayed to the winds of Shadowy Vale. + +Up and down the Vale they looked, and saw before the tents of men the old +familiar banners of Burgdale rising and falling in the evening wind. But +amidst of the Doom-ring was pitched a great banner, whereon was done the +image of the Wolf with red gaping jaws on a field of green; and about him +stood other banners, to wit, The Silver Arm on a red field, the Red Hand +on a white field, and on green fields both, the Golden Bushel and the +Ragged Sword. + +All about the plain shone glittering war-gear of men as they moved hither +and thither, and a stream of folk began at once to draw toward the scree +to look on those new-comers; and amidst the helmed Burgdalers and the +white-coated Shepherds went the tall men of the Wolf, bare-headed and +unarmed save for their swords, mingled with the fair strong women of the +kindred, treading barefoot the soft grass of their own Vale. + +Presently there was a great throng gathered round about the Woodlanders, +and each man as he joined it waved hand or weapon toward them, and the +joy of their welcome sent a confused clamour through the air. Then forth +from the throng stepped Folk-might, unarmed save his sword, and behind +him was Face-of-god, in his war-gear save his helm, hand in hand with the +Sun-beam, who was clad in her goodly flowered green kirtle, her feet +naked like her sisters of the kindred. + +Then Folk-might cried aloud: ‘A full and free greeting to our brothers! +Well be ye, O Sons of our Ancient Fathers! And to-day are ye the dearer +to us because we see that ye have brought us a gift, to wit, your wives +and children, and your grandsires unmeet for war. By this token we see +how great is your trust in us, and that it is your meaning never to +sunder from us again. O well be ye; well be ye!’ + +Then spake Red-wolf, and said: ‘Ye Sons of the Wolf, who parted from us +of old time in that cleft of the mountains, it is our very selves that we +give unto you; and these are a part of ourselves; how then should we +leave them behind us? Bear witness, O men of Burgdale and the +Sheepcotes, that we have become one Folk with the men of Shadowy Vale, +never to be sundered again!’ + +Then all that multitude shouted with a loud voice; and when the shout had +died away, Folk-might spake again: + +‘O Warriors of the Sundering, here shall your wives and children abide, +while we go a little journey to rejoice our hearts with the hard +handplay, and take to us that which we have missed: and to-morrow morn is +appointed for this same journey, unless ye be over foot-weary with the +ways of the Waste.’ + +Red-wolf smiled as he answered: ‘This ye say in jest, brother; for ye may +see that our day’s journey hath not been over-much for our old men; how +then should it weary those who may yet bear sword? We are ready for the +road and eager for the handplay.’ + +‘This is well,’ said Folk-might, ‘and what was to be looked for. +Therefore, brother, do ye and your counsel-mates come straightway to the +Hall of the Wolf; wherein, after ye have eaten and drunken, shall we take +counsel with our brethren of Burgdale and the Sheepcotes, so that all may +be ordered for battle!’ + +Said Red-wolf: ‘Good is that, if we must needs abide till to-morrow; for +verily we came not hither to eat and drink and rest our bodies; but it +must be as ye will have it.’ + +Then the Sun-beam left the hand of Face-of-god and came forward, and held +out both her palms to the Woodland-folk, and spake in a voice that was +heard afar, though it were a woman’s, so clear and sweet it was; and she +said: + +‘O Warriors of the Sundering, ye who be not needed in the Hall, and ye +our sisters with your little ones and your fathers, come now to us and +down to the tents which we have arrayed for you, and there think for a +little that we are all at our very home that we long for and have yet to +win, and be ye merry with us and make us merry.’ + +Therewith she stepped forward daintily and entered into their throng, and +took an old man of the Woodlanders by the hand, and kissed his cheek and +led him away, and the coming rest seemed sweet to him. And then came +other women of the Vale, kind and fair and smiling, and led away, some an +old mother of the Wood-landers, some a young wife, some a pair of lads; +and not a few forsooth kissed and embraced the stark warriors, and went +away with them toward the tents, which stood along the side of the +Shivering Flood where it was at its quietest; for there was the grass the +softest and most abundant. There on the green grass were tables arrayed, +and lamps were hung above them on spears, to be litten when the daylight +should fail. And the best of the victual which the Vale could give was +spread on the boards, along with wine and dainties, bought in +Silver-dale, or on the edges of the Westland with sword-strokes and +arrow-flight. + +There then they feasted and were merry; and the Sun-beam and Bow-may and +the other women of the Vale served them at table, and were very blithe +with them, caressing them with soft words, and with clipping and kissing, +as folk who were grown exceeding dear to them; so that that eve of battle +was softer and sweeter to them than any hour of their life. With these +feasters were God-swain and Spear-fist of the delivered thralls of +Silver-dale as glad as glad might be; but Wolf-stone their eldest was +gone with Dallach to the Council in the Hall. + +The men of Burgdale and the Shepherds feasted otherwhere in all content, +nor lacked folk of the Vale to serve them. Amongst the men of the Face +were the ten delivered thralls who had heart to meet their masters in +arms: seven of them were of Rose-dale and three of Silver-dale. + +The Bride was with her kindred of the Steer, with whom were many men of +Shadowy Vale, and she served her friends and fellows clad in her +war-gear, save helm and hauberk, bearing herself as one who is serving +dear guests. And men equalled her for her beauty to the Gods of the High +Place and the Choosers of the Slain; and they who had not beheld her +before marvelled at her, and her loveliness held all men’s hearts in a +net of desire, so that they forebore their meat to gaze upon her; and if +perchance her hand touched some young man, or her cheek or sweet-breathed +mouth came nigh to his face, he became bewildered and wist not where he +was, nor what to do. Yet was she as lowly and simple of speech and +demeanour as if she were a gooseherd of fourteen winters. + +In the Hall was a goodly company, and all the leaders of the Folk were +therein, and Folk-might and the War-leader sitting in the midst of those +stone seats on the days. There then they agreed on the whole ordering of +the battle and the wending of the host, as shall be told later on; and +this matter was long a-doing, and when it was done, men went to their +places to sleep, for the night was well worn. + +But when men had departed and all was still, Folk-might, light-clad and +without a weapon, left the Hall and walked briskly toward the nether end +of the Vale. He passed by all the tents, the last whereof were of the +House of the Steer, and came to a place where was a great rock rising +straight up from the plain like sheaves of black staves standing close +together; and it was called Staff-stone, and tales of the elves had been +told concerning it, so that Stone-face had beheld it gladly the day +before. + +The moon was just shining into Shadowy Vale, and the grass was bright +wheresoever the shadows of the high cliffs were not, and the face of +Staff-stone shone bright grey as Folk-might came within sight of it, and +he beheld someone sitting at the base of the rock, and as he drew nigher +he saw that it was a woman, and knew her for the Bride; for he had prayed +her to abide him there that night, because it was nigh to the tents of +the House of the Steer; and his heart was glad as he drew nigh to her. + +She sat quietly on a fragment of the black rock, clad as she had been all +day, in her glittering kirtle, but without hauberk or helm, a wreath of +wind-flowers about her head, her feet crossed over each other, her hands +laid palm uppermost in her lap. She moved not as he drew nigh, but said +in a gentle voice when he was close to her: + +‘Chief of the Wolf, great warrior, thou wouldest speak with me; and good +it is that friends should talk together on the eve of battle, when they +may never meet alive again.’ + +He said: ‘My talk shall not be long; for thou and I both must sleep +to-night, since there is work to hand to-morrow. Now since, as thou +sayest, O fairest of women, we may never meet again alive, I ask thee now +at this hour, when we both live and are near to one another, to suffer me +to speak to thee of my love of thee and desire for thee. Surely thou, +who art the sweetest of all things the Gods and the kindreds have made, +wilt not gainsay me this?’ + +She said very sweetly, yet smiling: ‘Brother of my father’s sons, how can +I gainsay thee thy speech? Nay, hast thou not said it? What more canst +thou add to it that will have fresh meaning to mine ears?’ + +He said: ‘Thou sayest sooth: might I then but kiss thine hand?’ + +She said, no longer smiling: ‘Yea surely, even so may all men do who can +be called my friends—and thou art much my friend.’ + +He took her hand and kissed it, and held it thereafter; nor did she draw +it away. The moon shone brightly on them; but by its light he could not +see if she reddened, but he deemed that her face was troubled. Then he +said: ‘It were better for me if I might kiss thy face, and take thee in +mine arms.’ + +Then said she: ‘This only shall a man do with me when I long to do the +like with him. And since thou art so much my friend, I will tell thee +that as for this longing, I have it not. Bethink thee what a little +while it is since the lack of another man’s love grieved me sorely.’ + +‘The time is short,’ said Folk-might, ‘if we tell up the hours thereof; +but in that short space have a many things betid.’ + +She said: ‘Dost thou know, canst thou guess, how sorely ashamed I went +amongst my people? I durst look no man in the face for the aching of +mine heart, which methought all might see through my face.’ + +‘I knew it well,’ he said; ‘yet of me wert thou not ashamed but a little +while ago, when thou didst tell me of thy grief.’ + +She said: ‘True it is; and thou wert kind to me. Thou didst become a +dear friend to me, methought.’ + +‘And wilt thou hurt a dear friend?’ said he. + +‘O no,’ she said, ‘if I might do otherwise. Yet how if I might not +choose? Shall there be no forgiveness for me then?’ + +He answered nothing; and still he held her hand that strove not to be +gone from his, and she cast down her eyes. Then he spake in a while: + +‘My friend, I have been thinking of thee and of me; and now hearken: if +thou wilt declare that thou feelest no sweetness embracing thine heart +when I say that I desire thee sorely, as now I say it; or when I kiss +thine hand, as now I kiss it; or when I pray thee to suffer me to cast +mine arms about thee and kiss thy face, as now I pray it: if thou wilt +say this, then will I take thee by the hand straightway, and lead thee to +the tents of the House of the Steer, and say farewell to thee till the +battle is over. Canst thou say this out of the truth of thine heart?’ + +She said: ‘What then if I cannot say this word? What then?’ + +But he answered nothing; and she sat still a little while, and then arose +and stood before him, looking him in the eyes, and said: + +‘I cannot say it.’ + +Then he caught her in his arms and strained her to him, and then kissed +her lips and her face again and again, and she strove not with him. But +at last she said: + +‘Yet after all this shalt thou lead me back to my folk straight-way; and +when the battle is done, if both we are living, then shall we speak more +thereof.’ + +So he took her hand and led her on toward the tents of the Steer, and for +a while he spake nought; for he doubted himself, what he should say; but +at last he spake: + +‘Now is this better for me than if it had not been, whether I live or +whether I die. Yet thou hast not said that thou lovest me and desirest +me.’ + +‘Wilt thou compel me?’ she said. ‘To-night I may not say it. Who shall +say what words my lips shall fashion when we stand together victorious in +Silver-dale; then indeed may the time seem long from now.’ + +He said: ‘Yea, true is that; yet once again I say that so measured long +and long is the time since first I saw thee in Burgdale before thou +knewest me. Yet now I will not bicker with thee, for be sure that I am +glad at heart. And lo you! our feet have brought us to the tents of thy +people. All good go with thee!’ + +‘And with thee, sweet friend,’ she said. Then she lingered a little, +turning her head toward the tents, and then turned her face toward him +and laid her hand on his neck, and drew his head adown to her and kissed +his cheek, and therewith swiftly and lightly departed from him. + +Now the night wore and the morning came; and Face-of-god was abroad very +early in the morning, as his custom was; and he washed the night from off +him in the Carles’ Bath of the Shivering Flood, and then went round +through the encampment of the host, and saw none stirring save here and +there the last watchmen of the night. He spake with one or two of these, +and then went up to the head of the Vale, where was the pass that led to +Silver-dale; and there he saw the watch, and spake with them, and they +told him that none had as yet come forth from the pass, and he bade them +to blow the horn of warning to rouse up the Host as soon as the +messengers came thence. For forerunners had been sent up the pass, and +had been set to hold watch at divers places therein to pass on the word +from place to place. + +Thence went Face-of-god back toward the Hall; but when he was yet some +way from it, he saw a slender glittering warrior come forth from the door +thereof, who stood for a moment looking round about, and then came +lightly and swiftly toward him; and lo! it was the Sun-beam, with a long +hauberk over her kirtle falling below her knees, a helm on her head and +plated shoes on her feet. She came up to him, and laid her hand to his +cheek and the golden locks of his head (for he was bare-headed), and said +to him, smiling: + +‘Gold-mane! thou badest me bear arms, and Folk-might also constrained me +thereto. Lo thou!’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Folk-might is wise then, even as I am; and forsooth as +thou art. For bethink thee if the bow drawn at a venture should speed +the eyeless shaft against thy breast, and send me forth a wanderer from +my Folk! For how could I bear the sight of the fair Dale, and no hope to +see thee again therein?’ + +She said: ‘The heart is light within me to-day. Deemest thou that this +is strange? Or dost thou call to mind that which thou spakest the other +day, that it was of no avail to stand in the Doom-ring of the Folk and +bear witness against ourselves? This will I not. This is no +light-mindedness that thou beholdest in me, but the valiancy that the +Fathers have set in mine heart. Deem not, O Gold-mane, fear not, that we +shall die before they dight the bride-bed for us.’ + +He would have kissed her mouth, but she put him away with her hand, and +doffed her helm and laid it on the grass, and said: + +‘This is not the last time that thou shalt kiss me, Gold-mane, my dear; +and yet I long for it as if it were, so high as the Fathers have raised +me up this morn above fear and sadness.’ + +He said nought, but drew her to him, and wonder so moved him, that he +looked long and closely at her face before he kissed her; and forsooth he +could find no blemish in it: it was as if it were but new come from the +smithy of the Gods, and exceeding longing took hold of him. But even as +their lips met, from the head of the Vale came the voice of the great +horn; and it was answered straightway by the watchers all down the tents; +and presently arose the shouts of men and the clash of weapons as folk +armed themselves, and laughter therewith, for most men were battle-merry, +and the cries of women shrilly-clear as they hastened about, busy over +the morning meal before the departure of the Host. But Face-of-god said +softly, still caressing the Sun-beam, and she him: + +‘Thus then we depart from this Valley of the Shadows, but as thou saidst +when first we met therein, there shall be no sundering of thee and me, +but thou shalt go down with me to the battle.’ + +And he led her by the hand into the Hall of the Wolf, and there they ate +a morsel, and thereafter Face-of-god tarried not, but busied himself +along with Folk-might and the other chieftains in arraying the Host for +departure. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. THE HOST DEPARTETH FROM SHADOWY VALE: THE FIRST DAY’S +JOURNEY. + + +IT was about three hours before noon that the Host began to enter into +the pass out of Shadowy Vale by the river-side; and the women and +children, and men unfightworthy, stood on the higher ground at the foot +of the cliffs to see the Host wend on the way. Of these a many were of +the Woodlanders, who were now one folk with them of Shadowy Vale. And +all these had chosen to abide tidings in the Vale, deeming that there was +little danger therein, since that last slaughter which Folk-might had +made of the Dusky Men; albeit Face-of-god had offered to send them all to +Burgstead with two score and ten men-at-arms to guard them by the way and +to eke out the warders of the Burg. + +Now the fighting-men of Shadowy Vale were two long hundreds lacking five; +of whom two score and ten were women, and three score and ten lads under +twenty winters; but the women, though you might scarce see fairer of face +and body, were doughty in arms, all good shooters in the bow; and the +swains were eager and light-foot, cragsmen of the best, wont to scaling +the cliffs of the Vale in search of the nests of gerfalcons and such-like +fowl, and swimming the strong streams of the Shivering Flood; tough +bodies and wiry, stronger than most grown men, and as fearless as the +best. + +The order of the Departure of the Host was this: + +The Woodlanders went first into the pass, and with them were two score of +the ripe Warriors of the Wolf. Then came of the kindreds of Burgdale, +the Men of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull; then the Men of the Vine +and the Sickle; then the Shepherd-folk; and lastly, the Men of the Face +led by Stone-face and Hall-face. With these went another two score of +the dwellers in Shadowy Vale, and the rest were scattered up and down the +bands of the Host to guide them into the best paths and to make the way +easier to them. Face-of-god was sundered from his kindred, and went +along with Folk-might in the forefront of the Host, while his father the +Alderman went as a simple man-at-arms with his House in the rearward. +The Sun-beam followed her brother and Face-of-god amidst the Warriors of +the Wolf, and with her were Bow-may clad in the Alderman’s gift, and +Wood-father and his children. Bow-may had caused her to doff her hauberk +for that day, whereon they looked to fall in with no foeman. As for the +Bride, she went with her kindred in all her war-gear; and the morning sun +shone in the gems of her apparel, and her jewelled feet fell like flowers +upon the deep grass of the upper Vale, and shone strange and bright +amongst the black stones of the pass. She bore a quiver at her back and +a shining yew bow in her hand, and went amongst the bowmen, for she was a +very deft archer. + +So fared they into the pass, leaving peace behind them, with all their +banners displayed, and the banner of the Red-mouthed Wolf went with the +Wolf and the Sun-burst in the forefront of their battle next after the +two captains. + +As for their road, the grassy space between the rock-wall and the water +was wide and smooth at first, and the cliffs rose up like bundles of +spear-shafts high and clear from the green grass with no confused litter +of fallen stones; so that the men strode on briskly, their hearts +high-raised and full of hope. And as they went, the sweetness of song +stirred in their souls, and at last Bow-may fell to singing in a loud +clear voice, and her cousin Wood-wise answered her, and all the warriors +of the Wolf who were in their band fell into the song at the ending, and +the sound of their melody went down the water and reached the ears of +those that were entering the pass, and of those who were abiding till the +way should be clear of them: and this is some of what they sang: + + _Bow-may singeth_: + + Hear ye never a voice come crying + Out from the waste where the winds fare wide? + ‘Sons of the Wolf, the days are dying, + And where in the clefts of the rocks do ye hide? + + ‘Into your hands hath the Sword been given, + Hard are the palms with the kiss of the hilt; + Through the trackless waste hath the road been riven + For the blade to seek to the heart of the guilt. + + ‘And yet ye bide and yet ye tarry; + Dear deem ye the sleep ’twixt hearth and board, + And sweet the maiden mouths ye marry, + And bright the blade of the bloodless sword.’ + + _Wood-wise singeth_: + + Yea, here we dwell in the arms of our Mother + The Shadowy Queen, and the hope of the Waste; + Here first we came, when never another + Adown the rocky stair made haste. + + Far is the foe, and no sword beholdeth + What deed we work and whither we wend; + Dear are the days, and the Year enfoldeth + The love of our life from end to end. + + Voice of our Fathers, why will ye move us, + And call up the sun our swords to behold? + Why will ye cry on the foeman to prove us? + Why will ye stir up the heart of the bold? + + _Bow-may singeth_: + + Purblind am I, the voice of the chiding; + Then tell me what is the thing ye bear? + What is the gift that your hands are hiding, + The gold-adorned, the dread and dear? + + _Wood-wise singeth_: + + Dark in the sheath lies the Anvil’s Brother, + Hid is the hammered Death of Men. + Would ye look on the gift of the green-clad Mother? + How then shall ye ask for a gift again? + + _The Warriors sing_: + + Show we the Sunlight the Gift of the Mother, + As foot follows foot to the foeman’s den! + Gleam Sun, breathe Wind, on the Anvil’s Brother, + For bare is the hammered Death of Men. + +Therewith they shook their naked swords in the air, and fared on eagerly, +and as swiftly as the pass would have them fare. But so it was, that +when the rearward of the Host was entering the first of the pass, and was +going on the wide smooth sward, the vanward was gotten to where there was +but a narrow space clear betwixt water and cliff; for otherwhere was a +litter of great rocks and small, hard to be threaded even by those who +knew the passes well; so that men had to tread along the very verge of +the Shivering Flood, and wary must they be, for the water ran swift and +deep betwixt banks of sheer rock half a fathom below their very +foot-soles, which had but bare space to go on the narrow a way. So it +held on for a while, and then got safer, and there was more space for +going betwixt cliff and flood; albeit it was toilsome enough, since for +some way yet there was a drift of stones to cumber their feet, some big +and some little, and some very big. After a while the way grew better, +though here and there, where the cliffs lowered, were wide screes of +loose stones that they must needs climb up and down. Thereafter for a +space was there an end of the stony cumber, but the way betwixt the river +and the cliffs narrowed again, and the black crags grew higher, and at +last so exceeding high, and the way so narrow, that the sky overhead was +to them as though they were at the bottom of a well, and men deemed that +thence they could see the stars at noontide. For some time withal had +the way been mounting up and up, though the cliffs grew higher over it; +till at last they were but going on a narrow shelf, the Shivering Flood +swirling and rattling far below them betwixt sheer rock-walls grown +exceeding high; and above them the cliffs going up towards the heavens as +black as a moonless starless night of winter. And as the flood thundered +below, so above them roared the ceaseless thunder of the wind of the +pass, that blew exceeding fierce down that strait place; so that the +skirts of their garments were wrapped about their knees by it, and their +feet were well-nigh stayed at whiles as they breasted the push thereof. + +But as they mounted higher and higher yet, the noise of the waters +swelled into a huge roar that drowned the bellowing of the prisoned wind, +and down the pass came drifting a fine rain that fell not from the sky, +for between the clouds of that drift could folk see the heavens bright +and blue above them. This rain was but the spray of the great force up +to whose steps they were climbing. + +Now the way got rougher as they mounted; but this toil was caused by +their gain; for the rock-wall, which thrust out a buttress there as if it +would have gone to the very edge of the gap where-through the flood ran, +and so have cut the way off utterly, was here somewhat broken down, and +its stones scattered down the steep bent, so that there was a passage, +though a toilsome one. + +Thus then through the wind-borne drift of the great force, through which +men could see the white waters tossing down below, amidst the clattering +thunder of the Shivering Flood and the rumble of the wind of the gap, +that tore through their garments and hair as if it would rend all to rags +and bear it away, the banners of the Wolf won their way to the crest of +the midmost height of the pass, and the long line of the Host came +clambering after them; and each band of warriors as it reached the top +cast an unheard shout from amidst the tangled fury of wind and waters. + +A little further on and all that turmoil was behind them; the sun, now +grown low, smote the wavering column of spray from the force at their +backs, till the rainbows lay bright across it; and the sunshine lay wide +over a little valley that sloped somewhat steeply to the west right up +from the edge of the river; and beyond these western slopes could men see +a low peak spreading down on all sides to the plain, till it was like to +a bossed shield, and the name of it was Shield-broad. Dark grey was the +valley everywhere, save that by the side of the water was a space of +bright green-sward hedged about toward the mountain by a wall of rocks +tossed up into wild shapes of spires and jagged points. The river itself +was spread out wide and shallow, and went rattling about great grey rocks +scattered here and there amidst it, till it gathered itself together to +tumble headlong over three slant steps into the mighty gap below. + +From the height in the pass those grey slopes seemed easy to traverse; +but the warriors of the Wolf knew that it was far otherwise, for they +were but the molten rock-sea that in time long past had flowed forth from +Shield-broad and filled up the whole valley endlong and overthwart, +cooling as it flowed, and the tumbled hedge of rock round about the green +plain by the river was where the said rock-sea had been stayed by meeting +with soft ground, and had heaped itself up round about the green-sward. +And that great rock-flood as it cooled split in divers fashions; and the +rain and weather had been busy on it for ages, so that it was worn into a +maze of narrow paths, most of which, after a little, brought the wayfarer +to a dead stop, or else led him back again to the place whence he had +started; so that only those who knew the passes throughly could thread +that maze without immeasurable labour. + +Now when the men of the Host looked from the high place whereon they +stood toward the green plain by the river, they saw on the top of that +rock-wall a red pennon waving on a spear, and beside it three or four +weaponed men gleaming bright in the evening sun; and they waved their +swords to the Host, and made lightning of the sunbeams, and the men of +the Host waved swords to them in turn. For these were the outguards of +the Host; and the place whereon they were was at whiles dwelt in by those +who would drive the spoil in Silver-dale, and midmost of the green-sward +was a booth builded of rough stones and turf, a refuge for a score of men +in rough weather. + +So the men of the vanward gat them down the hill, and made the best of +their way toward the grassy plain through that rocky maze which had once +been as a lake of molten glass; and as short as the way looked from +above, it was two hours or ever they came out of it on to the smooth +turf, and it was moonlight and night ere the House of the Face had gotten +on to the green-sward. + +There then the Host abode for that night, and after they had eaten lay +down on the green grass and slept as they might. Bow-may would have +brought the Sun-beam into the booth with some others of the women, but +she would not enter it, because she deemed that otherwise the Bride would +abide without; and the Bride, when she came up, along with the House of +the Steer, beheld the Sun-beam, that Wood-father’s children had made a +lair for her without like a hare’s form; and forsooth many a time had she +lain under the naked heaven in Shadowy Vale and the waste about it, even +as the Bride had in the meadows of Burgdale. So when the Bride was +bidden thereto, she went meekly into the booth, and lay there with others +of the damsels-at-arms. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. THE HOST COMETH TO THE EDGES OF SILVER-DALE. + + +SO wore the night, and when the dawn was come were the two captains +afoot, and they went from band to band to see that all was ready, and all +men were astir betimes, and by the time that the sun smote the eastern +side of Shield-broad ruddy, they had broken their fast and were dight for +departure. Then the horns blew up beside the banners, and rejoiced the +hearts of men. But by the command of the captains this was the last time +that they should sound till they blew for onset in Silver-dale, because +now would they be drawing nigher and nigher to the foemen, and they +wotted not but that wandering bands of them might be hard on the lips of +the pass, and might hear the horns’ voice, and turn to see what was +toward. + +Forth then went the banners of the Wolf, and the men of the vanward fell +to threading the rock-maze toward the north, and in two hours’ time were +clear of the Dale under Shield-broad. All went in the same order as +yesterday; but on this day the Sun-beam would bear her hauberk, and had a +sword girt to her side, and her heart was high and her speech merry. + +When they left the Dale under Shield-broad the way was easy and wide for +a good way, the river flowing betwixt low banks, and the pass being more +like a string of little valleys than a mere gap, as it had been on the +other side of the Dale. But when one third of the day was past, the way +began to narrow on them again, and to rise up little by little; and at +last the rock-walls drew close to the river, and when men looked toward +the north they saw no way, and nought but a wall. For the gap of the +Shivering Flood turned now to the east, and the Flood came down from the +east in many falls, as it were over a fearful stair, through a gap where +there was no path between the cliffs and the water, nought but the +boiling flood and its turmoil; so that they who knew not the road +wondered what they should do. + +But Folk-might led the banners to where a great buttress of the cliffs +thrust itself into the way, coming well-nigh down to the water, just at +the corner where the river turned eastward, and they got them about it as +they might, and on the other side thereof lo! another gap exceeding +strait, scarce twenty foot over, wall-sided, rugged beyond measure, going +up steeply from the great valley: a little water ran through it, mostly +filling up the floor of it from side to side; but it was but shallow. +This was now the battle-road of the Host, and the vanward entered it at +once, turning their backs upon the Shivering Flood. + +Full toilsome and dreary was that strait way; often great stones hung +above their heads, bridging the gap and hiding the sky from them; nor was +there any path for them save the stream itself; so that whiles were they +wading its waters to the knee or higher, and whiles were they striding +from stone to stone amidst the rattle of the waters, and whiles were they +stepping warily along the ledges of rock above the deeper pools, and in +all wise labouring in overcoming the rugged road amidst the twilight of +the gap. + +Thus they toiled till the afternoon was well worn, and so at last they +came to where the rock-wall was somewhat broken down on the north side, +and great rocks had fallen across the gap, and dammed up the waters, +which fell scantily over the dam from stone to stone into a pool at the +bottom of it. Up this breach, then, below the force they scrambled and +struggled, for rough indeed was the road for them; and so came they up +out of the gap on to the open hill-side, a great shoulder of the heath +sloping down from the north, and littered over with big stones, borne +thither belike by some ice-river of the earlier days; and one great rock +was in special as great as the hall of a wealthy goodman, and shapen like +to a hall with hipped gables, which same the men of the Wolf called +House-stone. + +There then the noise and clatter of the vanward rose up on the face of +the heath, and men were exceeding joyous that they had come so far +without mishap. Therewith came weaponed men out from under House-stone, +and they came toward the men of the vanward, and they were a half-score +of the forerunners of the Wolf; therefore Folk-might and Face-of-god fell +at once into speech with them, and had their tidings; and when they had +heard them, they saw nought to hinder the host from going on their road +to Silver-dale forthright; and there were still three hours of daylight +before them. So the vanward of the host tarried not, and the captains +left word with the men from under House-stone that the rest of the Host +should fare on after them speedily, and that they should give this word +to each company, as men came up from out the gap. Then they fared +speedily up the hillside, and in an hour’s wearing had come to the crest +thereof, and to where the ground fell steadily toward the north, and +hereabout the scattered stones ceased, and on the other side of the crest +the heath began to be soft and boggy, and at last so soft, that if they +had not been wisely led, they had been bemired oftentimes. At last they +came to where the flows that trickled through the mires drew together +into a stream, so that men could see it running; and thereon some of the +Woodlanders cried out joyously that the waters were running north; and +then all knew that they were drawing nigh to Silver-dale. + +No man they met on the road, nor did they of Shadowy Vale look to meet +any; because the Dusky Men were not great hunters for the more part, +except it were of men, and especially of women; and, moreover, these +hill-slopes of the mountain-necks led no-whither and were utterly waste +and dreary, and there was nought to be seen there but snipes and bitterns +and whimbrel and plover, and here and there a hill-fox, or the great erne +hanging over the heath on his way to the mountain. + +When sunset came, they were getting clear of the miry ground, and the +stream which they had come across amidst of the mires had got clearer and +greater, and rattled down between wide stony sides over the heath; and +here and there it deepened as it cleft its way through little knolls that +rose out of the face of the mountain-neck. As the Host climbed one of +these and was come to its topmost (it was low enough not to turn the +stream), Face-of-god looked and beheld dark-blue mountains rising up far +off before him, and higher than these, but away to the east, the snowy +peaks of the World-mountains. Then he called to mind what he had seen +from the Burg of the Runaways, and he took Folk-might by the arm, and +pointed toward those far-off mountains. + +‘Yea,’ said Folk-might, ‘so it is, War-leader. Silver-dale lieth between +us and yonder blue ridges, and it is far nigher to us than to them.’ + +But the Sun-beam came close to those twain, and took Face-of-god by the +hand and said: ‘O Gold-mane, dost thou see?’ and he turned about and +beheld her, and saw how her cheeks flamed and her eyes glittered, and he +said in a low voice: ‘To-morrow for mirth or silence, for life or death.’ + +But the whole vanward as they came up stayed to behold the sight of the +mountains on the other side of Silver-dale, and the banners of the Folk +hung over their heads, moving but little in the soft air of the evening: +so went they on their ways. + +The sun sank, and dusk came on them as they followed down the stream, and +night came, and was clear and starlit, though the moon was not yet risen. +Now was the ground firm and the grass sweet and flowery, and wind-worn +bushes were scattered round about them, as they began to go down into the +ghyll that cleft the wall of Silver-dale, and the night-wind blew in +their faces from the very Dale and place of the Battle to be. The path +down was steep at first, but the ghyll was wide, and the sides of it no +longer straight walls, as in the gaps of their earlier journey, but +broken, sloping back, and (as they might see on the morrow) partly of big +stones and shaly grit, partly grown over with bushes and rough grass, +with here and there a little stream trickling down their sides. As they +went, the ghyll widened out, till at last they were in a valley going +down to the plain, in places steep, in places flat and smooth, the stream +ever rattling down the midst of it, and they on the west side thereof. +The vale was well grassed, and oak-trees and ash and holly and hazel grew +here and there about it; and at last the Host had before it a wood which +filled the vale from side to side, not much tangled with undergrowth, and +quite clear of it nigh to the stream-side. Thereinto the vanward +entered, but went no long way ere the leaders called a halt and bade +pitch the banners, for that there should they abide the daylight. Thus +it had been determined at the Council of the Hall of the Wolf; for +Folk-might had said: ‘With an Host as great as ours, and mostly of men +come into a land of which they know nought at all, an onslaught by night +is perilous: yea, and our foes should be over-much scattered, and we +should have to wander about seeking them. Let us rather abide in the +wood of Wood-dale till the morning, and then display our banners on the +hill-side above Silver-dale, so that they may gather together to fall +upon us: in no case shall they keep us out of the Dale.’ + +There then they stayed, and as each company came up to the wood, they +were marshalled into their due places, so that they might set the battle +in array on the edge of Silver-dale. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. FACE-OF-GOD LOOKETH ON SILVER-DALE: THE BOWMEN’S BATTLE. + + +THERE then they rested, as folk wearied with the toilsome journey, when +they had set sure watches round about their campment; and they ate +quietly what meat they had with them, and so gat them to sleep in the +wood on the eve of battle. + +But not all slept; for the two captains went about amongst the companies, +Folk-might to the east, Face-of-god to the west, to look to the watches, +and to see that all was ordered duly. Also the Sun-beam slept not, but +she lay beside Bow-may at the foot of an oak-tree; she watched +Face-of-god as he went away amidst the men of the Host, and watched and +waked abiding his returning footsteps. + +The night was well worn by then he came back to his place in the vanward, +and on his way back he passed through the folk of the Steer laid along on +the grass, all save those of the watch, and the light of the moon high +aloft was mingled with the light of the earliest dawn; and as it happed +he looked down, and lo! close to his feet the face of the Bride as she +lay beside her grand-sire, her head pillowed on a bundle of bracken. She +was sleeping soundly like a child who has been playing all day, and whose +sleep has come to him unsought and happily. Her hands were laid together +by her side; her cheek was as fair and clear as it was wont to be at her +best; her face looked calm and happy, and a lock of her dark-red hair +strayed from her uncovered head over her breast and lay across her +wrists, so peacefully she slept. + +Face-of-god turned his eyes from her at once, and went by swiftly, and +came to his own company. The Sun-beam saw him coming, and rose +straightway to her feet from beside Bow-may, who lay fast asleep, and she +held out her hands to him; and he took them and kissed them, and he cast +his arms about her and kissed her mouth and her face, and she his in +likewise; and she said: + +‘O Gold-mane, if this were but the morrow of to-morrow! Yet shall all be +well; shall it not?’ + +Her voice was low, but it waked Bow-may, who sat up at once broad awake, +after the manner of a hunter of the waste ever ready for the next thing +to betide, and moreover the Sun-beam had been in her thoughts these two +days, and she feared for her, lest she should be slain or maimed. Now +she smiled on the Sun-beam and said: + +‘What is it? Does thy mind forebode evil? That needeth not. I tell +thee it is not so ill for us of the sword to be in Silver-dale. Thrice +have I been there since the Overthrow, and never more than a half-score +in company, and yet am I whole to-day.’ + +‘Yea, sister,’ said Face-of-god, ‘but in past times ye did your deed and +then fled away; but now we come to abide here, and this night is the last +of lurking.’ + +‘Ah,’ she said, ‘a little way from this I saw such things that we had +good will to abide here longer, few as we were, but that we feared to be +taken alive.’ + +‘What things were these?’ said Face-of-god. + +‘Nay,’ she said, ‘I will not tell thee now; but mayhap in the lighted +winter feast-hall, when the kindred are so nigh us and about us that they +seem to us as if they were all the world, I may tell it thee; or mayhap I +never shall.’ + +Said the Sun-beam, smiling: ‘Thou wilt ever be talking, Bow-may. Now let +the War-leader depart, for he will have much to do.’ + +And she was well at ease that she had seen Face-of-god again; but he +said: + +‘Nay, not so much; all is well-nigh done; in an hour it will be broad +day, and two hours thereafter shall the Banner be displayed on the edge +of Silver-dale.’ + +The cheek of the Sun-beam flushed, and paled again, as she said: ‘Yea, we +shall stand even as our Fathers stood on the day when, coming from off +the waste, they beheld it, and knew it would be theirs. Ah me! how have +I longed for this morn. But now—Tell me, Gold-mane, dost thou deem that +I am afraid? And I whom thou hast deemed to be a God.’ + +Quoth Bow-may: ‘Thou shalt deem her twice a God ere noon-tide, brother +Gold-mane. But come now! the hour of deadly battle is at hand, and we +may not laugh that away; and therefore I bid thee remember, Gold-mane, +how thou didst promise to kiss me once more on the verge of deadly +battle.’ + +Therewith she stood up before him, and he tarried not, but kind and +smiling took her face between his two hands and kissed her lips, and she +cast her arms about him and kissed him, and then sank down on the grass +again, and turned from him, and laid her face amongst the grass and the +bracken, and they could see that she was weeping, and her body was shaken +with sobs. But the Sun-beam knelt down to her, and caressed her with her +hand, and spake kind words to her softly, while Face-of-god went his ways +to meet Folk-might. + +Now was the dawn fading into full daylight; and between dawn and sunrise +were all men stirring; for the watch had waked the hundred-leaders, and +they the leaders of scores and half-scores, and they the whole folk; and +they sat quietly in the wood and made no noise. + +In the night the watch of the Sickle had fallen in with a thrall who had +stolen up from the Dale to set gins for hares, and now in the early +morning they brought him to the War-leader. He was even such a man as +those with whom Face-of-god had fallen in before, neither better nor +worse than most of them: he was sore afraid at first, but by then he was +come to the captains he understood that he had happened upon friends; but +he was dull of comprehension and slow of speech. Albeit Folk-might +gathered from him that the Dusky Men had some inkling of the onslaught; +for he said that they had been gathering together in the marketplace of +Silver-stead, and would do so again soon. Moreover, the captains deemed +from his speech that those new tribes had come to hand sooner than was +looked for, and were even now in the Dale. Folk-might smiled as one who +is not best pleased when he heard these tidings; but Face-of-god was glad +to hear thereof; for what he loathed most was that the war should drag +out in hunting of scattered bands of the foe. Herewith came Dallach to +them as they talked (for Face-of-god had sent for him), and he fell to +questioning the man further; by whose answers it seemed that many men +also had come into the Dale from Rose-dale, so that they of the kindreds +were like to have their hands full. Lastly Dallach drew from the thrall +that it was on that very morning that the great Folk-mote of the Dusky +Men should be holden in the market-place of the Stead, which was right +great, and about it were the biggest of the houses wherein the men of the +kindred had once dwelt. + +So when they had made an end of questioning the thrall, and had given him +meat and drink, they asked him if he would take weapons in his hand and +lead them on the ways into the Dale, bidding him look about the wood and +note how great and mighty an host they were. And the carle yeasaid this, +after staring about him a while, and they gave him spear and shield, and +he went with the vanward as a way-leader. + +Again presently came a watch of the Shepherds, and they had found a man +and a woman dead and stark naked hanging to the boughs of a great +oak-tree deep in the wood. This men knew for some vengeance of the Dusky +Men, for it was clear to see that these poor people had been sorely +tormented before they were slain. Also the same watch had stumbled on +the dead body of an old woman, clad in rags, lying amongst the rank grass +about a little flow; she was exceeding lean and hunger-starved, and in +her hand was a frog which she had half eaten. And Dallach, when he heard +of this, said that it was the wont of the Dusky Men to slay their thralls +when they were past work, or to drive them into the wilderness to die. + +Lastly came a watch from the men of the Face, having with them two more +thralls, lusty young men; these they had come upon in company of their +master, who had brought them up into the wood to shoot him a buck, and +therefore they bare bows and arrows. The watch had slain the master +straightway while the thralls stood looking on. They were much afraid of +the weaponed men, but answered to the questioning much readier than the +first man; for they were household thralls, and better fed and clad than +he, who was but a toiler in the fields. They yeasaid all his tale, and +said moreover that the Folk-mote of the Dusky Men should be holden in the +market-place that forenoon, and that most of the warriors should be +there, both the new-comers and the Rose-dale lords, and that without +doubt they should be under arms. + +To these men also they gave a good sword and a helm each, and bade them +be brisk with their bows, and they said yea to marching with the Host; +and indeed they feared nothing so much as being left behind; for if they +fell into the hands of the Dusky Men, and their master missing, they +should first be questioned with torments, and then slain in the evillest +manner. + +Now whereas things had thus betid, and that they knew thus much of their +foemen, Face-of-god called all the chieftains together, and they sat on +the green grass and held counsel amongst them, and to one and all it +seemed good that they should suffer the Dusky Men to gather together +before they meddled with them, and then fall upon them in such order and +such time as should seem good to the captains watching how things went; +and this would be easy, whereas they were all lying in the wood in the +same order as they would stand in battle-array if they were all drawn up +together on the brow of the hill. Albeit Face-of-god deemed it good, +after he had heard all that they who had been in the Stead could tell him +thereof, that the Shepherd-Folk, who were more than three long hundreds, +and they of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull, four hundreds in all, +should take their places eastward of the Woodlanders who had led the +vanward. + +Straightway the word was borne to these men, and the shift was made: so +that presently the Woodlanders were amidmost of the Host, and had with +them on their right hands the Men of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull, +and beyond them the Shepherd-Folk. But on their left hand lay the Men of +the Vine, then they of the Sickle, and lastly the Men of the Face, and +these three kindreds were over five hundreds of warriors: as for the Men +of the Wolf, they abode at first with those companies which they had led +through the wastes, though this was changed afterwards. + +All this being done, Face-of-god gave out that all men should break their +fast in peace and leisure; and while men were at their meat, Folk-might +spake to Face-of-god and said: ‘Come, brother, for I would show thee a +goodly thing; and thou, Dallach, come with us.’ + +Then he brought them by paths in the wood till Face-of-god saw the sky +shine white between the tree-boles, and in a little while they were come +well-nigh out of the thicket, and then they went warily; for before them +was nought but the slopes of Wood-dale, going down steeply into +Silver-dale, with nought to hinder the sight of it, save here and there +bushes or scattered trees; and so fair and lovely it was that Face-of-god +could scarce forbear to cry out. He saw that it was only at the upper or +eastern end, where the mountains of the Waste went round about it, that +the Dale was narrow; it soon widened out toward the west, and for the +most part was encompassed by no such straight-sided a wall as was +Burgdale, but by sloping hills and bents, mostly indeed somewhat higher +and steeper than the pass wherein they were, but such as men could well +climb if they had a mind to, and there were any end to their journey. +The Dale went due west a good way, and then winded about to the +southwest, and so was hidden from them thereaway by the bents that lay on +their left hand. As it was wider, so it was not so plain a ground as was +Burgdale, but rose in knolls and little hills here and there. A river +greater than the Weltering Water wound about amongst the said mounds; and +along the side of it out in the open dale were many goodly houses and +homesteads of stone. The knolls were mostly covered over with vines, and +there were goodly and great trees in groves and clumps, chiefly oak and +sweet chestnut and linden; many were the orchards, now in blossom, about +the homesteads; the pastures of the neat and horses spread out bright +green up from the water-side, and deeper green showed the acres of the +wheat on the lower slopes of the knolls, and in wide fields away from the +river. + +Just below the pitch of the hill whereon they were, lay Silver-stead, the +town of the Dale. Hitherto it had been an unfenced place; but Folk-might +pointed to where on the western side a new white wall was rising, and on +which, young as the day yet was, men were busy laying the stones and +spreading the mortar. Fair seemed that town to Face-of-god: the houses +were all builded of stone, and some of the biggest were roofed with lead, +which also as well as silver was dug out of the mountains at the eastern +end of the Dale. The market-place was clear to see from where they +stood, though there were houses on all sides of it, so wide it was. From +their standing-place it was but three furlongs to this heart of +Silver-dale; and Face-of-god could see brightly-clad men moving about in +it already. High above their heads he beheld two great clots of scarlet +and yellow raised on poles and pitched in front of a great stone-built +hall roofed with lead, which stood amidmost of the west end of the Place, +and betwixt those poles he saw on a mound with long slopes at its sides +somewhat of white stone, and amidmost of the whole Place a great stack of +faggot-wood built up four-square. Those red and yellow things on the +poles he deemed would be the banners of the murder-carles; and Folk-might +told him that even so it was, and that they were but big bunches of +strips of woollen cloth, much like to great ragmops, save that the rags +were larger and longer: no other token of war, said Folk-might, did those +folk carry, save a crookbladed sword, smeared with man’s blood, and +bigger than any man might wield in battle. + +‘Art thou far-seeing, War-leader?’ quoth he. ‘What canst thou see in the +market-place?’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Far-seeing am I above most men, and I see in the Place +a man in scarlet standing by the banner, which is pitched in front of the +great stone hall, near to the mound with the white stone on it; and +meseemeth he beareth a great horn in his hand.’ + +Said Folk-might: ‘Yea, and that stone hall was our Mote-house when we +were lords of the Dale, and thence it was that they who are now thralls +of the Dusky Men sent to them their message and token of yielding. And +as for that white stone, it is the altar of their god; for they have but +one, and he is that same crook-bladed sword. And now that I look, I see +a great stack of wood amidmost the market-place, and well I know what +that betokeneth.’ + +‘Lo you!’ said Face-of-god, ‘the man with the horn is gone up on to the +altar-mound, and meseemeth he is setting the little end of the horn to +his mouth.’ + +‘Hearken then!’ said Folk-might. And in a moment came the hoarse +tuneless sound of the horn down the wind towards them; and Folk-might +said: + +‘I deem I should know what that blast meaneth; and now is it time that +the Host drew nigher to set them in array behind these very trees. But +if ye will, War-leader, we will abide here and watch the ways of the +foemen, and send Dallach with the word to the Host; also I would have +thee suffer me to bid hither at once two score and ten of the best of the +bowmen of our folk and the Woodlanders, and Wood-wise to lead them, for +he knoweth well the land hereabout, and what is good to do.’ + +‘It is good,’ said Face-of-god. ‘Be speedy, Dallach!’ + +So Dallach departed, running lightly, and the two chiefs abode there; and +the horn in Silver-stead blew at whiles for a little, and then stayed; +and Folk-might said: + +‘Lo you! they come flockmeal to the Mote-stead; the Place will be filled +ere long.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Will they make offerings to their god at the hallowing +in of their Folk-mote? Where then are the slaughter-beasts?’ + +‘They shall not long be lacking,’ said Folk-might. ‘See you it is +getting thronged about the altar and the Mote-house.’ + +Now there were four ways into the Market-place of Silver-stead turned +toward the four aírts, and the midmost of the kindreds’ battle looked +right down the southern one, which went up to the wood, but stopped there +in a mere woodland path, and the more part of the town lay north and west +of this way, albeit there was a way from the east also. But the +hill-side just below the two captains lay two furlongs west of this +southern way; and it went down softly till it was gotten quite near to +the backs of the houses on the south side of the Market-place, and was +sprinkled scantly with bushes and trees as aforesaid; but at last were +there more bushes, which well-nigh made a hedge across it, reaching from +the side of the southern way; and a foot or two beyond these bushes the +ground fell by a steep and broken bent down to the level of the +Market-place, and betwixt that fringe of bushes and the backs of the +houses on the south side of the Place was less it maybe than a full +furlong: but the southern road aforesaid went down softly into the +Market-place, since it had been fashioned so by men. + +Now the two chiefs heard a loud blast of horns come up from the town, and +lo! a great crowd of men wending their ways down the road from the north, +and they came into the market-place with spears and other weapons tossing +in the air, and amidst of these men, who seemed to be all of the +warriors, they saw as they drew nigher some two score and ten of men clad +in long raiment of yellow and scarlet, with tall spiring hats of strange +fashion on their heads, and in their hands long staves with great blades +like scythes done on to them; and again, in the midst of these yellow and +red glaive-bearers, in the very heart of the throng were some score of +naked folk, they deemed both men and women, but were not sure, so close +was the throng; nor could they see if they were utterly naked. + +‘Lo you, brother!’ quoth Folk-might, ‘said I not that the beasts for the +hewing should not tarry? Yonder naked folk are even they: and ye may +well deem that they are the thralls of the Dusky Men; and meseemeth by +the whiteness of their skins they be of the best of them. For these +felons, it is like, look to winning great plenty of thralls in Burgdale, +and so set the less store on them they have, and may expend them freely.’ + +As he spake they heard the sound of men marching in the wood behind them, +and they turned about and saw that there was come Wood-wise, and with him +upwards of two score and ten of the bowmen of the Woodlanders and the +Wolf—huntsmen, cragsmen, and scourers of the Waste; men who could shoot +the chaffinch on the twig a hundred yards aloof; who could make a +hiding-place of the bennets of the wayside grass, or the stem of the +slender birch-tree. With these must needs be Bow-may, who was the +closest shooter of all the kindreds. + +So then Wood-wise told the War-leader that Dallach had given the word to +the Host, and that all men were astir and would be there presently in +their ordered companies; and Face-of-god spake to Folk-might, and said: +‘Chief of the Wolf, wilt thou not give command to these bowmen, and set +them to the work; for thou wottest thereof.’ + +‘Yea, that will I,’ said Folk-might, and turned to Wood-wise, and said: +‘Wood-wise, get ye down the slope, and loose on these felons, who have a +murder on hand, if so be ye have a chance to do it wisely. But in any +case come ye all back; for all shall be needed yet to-day. So flee if +they pursue, for ye shall have us to flee to. Now be ye wary, nor let +the curse of the Wolf and the Face lie on your slothfulness.’ + +Wood-wise did but nod his head and lift his hand to his fellows, who set +off after him down the slope without more tarrying. They went very +warily, as if they were hunting a quarry which would flee from them; and +they crept amongst the grass and stones from bush to bush like serpents, +and so, unseen by the Dusky Men, who indeed were busied over their own +matters, they came to the fringe of bushes above the broken ground +aforesaid, and there they took their stand, and before them below those +steep banks was but the space at the back of the houses. As to the +houses, as aforesaid, they were not so high as elsewhere about the +Market-place; and at the end of a long low hall there was a gap between +its gable and the next house, whereby they had a clear sight of the Place +about the god’s altar and the banners, and the great hall of Silver-dale, +with the double stair that went up to the door thereof. + +There then they made them ready, and Wood-wise set men to watch that none +should come sidelong on them unawares; their bows were bent and their +quivers open, and they were eager for the fray. + +Thus they beheld the Market-place from their cover, and saw that those +folk who were to be hewn to the god were now standing facing the altar in +a half-ring, and behind them in another half-ring the glaive-bearers who +had brought them thither stood glaive in hand ready to hew them down when +the token should be given; and these were indeed the priests of the god. + +There was clear space round about these poor slaughter-thralls, so that +the bowmen could see them well, and they told up a score of them, half +men, half women, and they were all stark naked save for wreaths of +flowers about their middles and their necks; and they had shackles of +lead about their wrists; which same lead should be taken out of the fire +wherein they should be burned, and from the shape it should take after it +had passed through the fire would the priests foretell the luck of the +deed to be done. + +It was clear to be seen from thence that Folk-might was right when he +said that these slaughter-thralls were of the best of the house-thralls +and bed-mates of the Dusky Men, and that these felons were open-handed to +their god, and would not cheat him, or withhold from him the best and +most delicate of all they had. + +Now spake Wood-wise to those about him: ‘It is sure that Folk-might would +have us give these poor thralls a chance, and that we must loose upon the +felons who would hew them down; and if we are to come back again, we can +go no nigher. What sayest thou, Bow-may? Is it nigh enough? Can aught +be done?’ + +‘Yea, yea,’ she said, ‘nigh enough it is; but let Gold-ring be with me +and half a score of the very best, whether they be of our folk or the +Woodlanders, men who cannot miss such a mark; and when we have loosed, +then let all loose, and stay not till our shot be spent. Haste, now +haste! time presseth; for if the Host showeth on the brow of the hill, +these felons will hew down their slaughter-beasts before they turn on +their foemen. Let the grey-goose wing speed trouble and confusion +amongst them.’ + +But ere she had done her words Wood-wise had got to speaking quietly with +the Woodlanders; and Bears-bane, who was amidst them, chose out eight of +the best of his folk, men who doubted nothing of hitting whatever they +could see in the Market-place; and they took their stand for shooting, +and with them besides Bow-may were two women and four men of the Wolf, +and Gold-ring withal, a carle of fifty winters, long, lean, and wiry, a +fell shooter if ever anyone were. + +So all these notched their shafts and laid them on the yew, and each had +between the two last fingers of the shaft-hand another shaft ready, and a +half score more stuck into the ground before him. + +Now giveth Wood-wise the word to these sixteen as to which of the felons +with the glaives they shall each one aim at; and he saith withal in a +soft voice: ‘Help cometh from the Hill; soon shall battle be joined in +Silver-dale.’ + +Thus stand they watching Bow-may and Gold-ring till they draw home the +notches; and amidst their waiting the glaive-bearing felons fall +a-singing a harsh and ugly hymn to their crooked-sword god, and the +Market-stead is thronged endlong and overthwart with the tribes of the +Dusky Men. + +There now standeth Bow-may far-sighted and keen-eyed, her face as pale as +a linen sleeve, an awful smile on her glittering eyes and close-set lips, +and she feeling the twisted string of the red yew and the polished sides +of the notch, while the yelling song of the Dusky priests quavers now and +ends with a wild shrill cry, and she noteth the midmost of the priests +beginning to handle his weapon: then swift and steady she draweth home +the notches, while the yew bow standeth still as the oak-bole ere the +summer storm ariseth, and the twang of the sixteen strings maketh but one +fell sound as the feathered bane of men goeth on its way. + +There was silence for a moment of time in the Market of Silver-stead, as +if the bolt of the Gods had fallen there; and then arose a huge wordless +yell from those about the altar, and one of the priests who was left hove +up his glaive two-handed to smite the naked slaughter-thralls; but or +ever the stroke fell, Bow-may’s second shaft was through his throat, and +he rolled over amidst his dead fellows; and the other fifteen had loosed +with her, and then even as they could Wood-wise and the others of their +company; and all they notched and loosed without tarrying, and no shout, +no word came from their lips, only the twanging strings spake for them; +for they deemed the minutes that hurried by were worth much joy of their +lives to be. And few indeed were the passing minutes ere the dead men +lay in heaps about the Altar of the Crooked Sword, and the wounded men +wallowed amidst them. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. OF THE ONSLAUGHT OF THE MEN OF THE STEER, THE BRIDGE, AND +THE BULL. + + +WILD was the turmoil and confusion in the Market-stead; for the more part +of the men therein knew not what had befallen about the altar, though +some clomb up to the top of that stack of faggots built for the burning +of the thralls, and when they saw what was toward fell to yelling and +cursing; and their fellows on the plain Place could not hear their story +for the clamour, and they also fell to howling as if a wood full of wild +dogs was there. + +And still the shafts rained down on that throng from the Bent of the +Bowmen, for another two score men of the Woodlanders had crept down the +hill to them, and shafts failed them not. But the Dusky Men about the +altar, for all their terror, or even maybe because of it, now began to +turn upon the scarce-seen foemen, and to press up wildly toward the +hill-side, though as it were without any order or aim. Every man of them +had his weapons, and those no mere gilded toys, but their very tools of +battle; and some, but no great number, had their bows with them and a few +shafts; and these began to shoot at whatsoever they could see on the +hill-side, but at first so wildly and hurriedly that they did no harm. + +It must be said of them that at first only those about the altar fell on +toward the hill; for those about the road that led southward knew not +what had betided nor whither to turn. So that at this beginning of the +battle, of all the thousands in the great Place it was but a few hundreds +that set on the Bent of the Bowmen, and at these the bowmen of the +kindreds shot so close and so wholly together that they fell one over +another in the narrow ways between the houses whereby they must needs go +to gather on the plain ground betwixt the backs of the houses and the +break of the hill-side. But little by little the archers of the Dusky +Men gathered behind the corpses of the slain, and fell to shooting at +what they could see of the men of the kindreds, which at that while was +not much, for as bold as they were, they fought like wary hunters of the +Wood and the Waste. + +But now at last throughout all that throng of Felons in the Market-place +the tale began to spread of foemen come into the Dale and shooting from +the Bents, and all they turned their faces to the hill, and the whole set +of the throng was thitherward; though they fared but slowly, so evil was +the order of them, each man hindering his neighbour as he went. And not +only did the Dusky Men come flockmeal toward the Bent of the Bowmen, but +also they jostled along toward the road that led southward. That beheld +Wood-wise from the Bent, and he was minded to get him and his aback, now +that they had made so great a slaughter of the foemen; and two or three +of his fellows had been hurt by arrows, and Bow-may, she would have been +slain thrice over but for the hammer-work of the Alderman. And no marvel +was that; for now she stood on a little mound not half covered by a thin +thorn-bush, and notched and loosed at whatever was most notable, as +though she were shooting at the mark on a summer evening in Shadowy Vale. +But as Wood-wise was at point to give the word to depart, from behind +them rang out the merry sound of the Burgdale horns, and he turned to +look at the wood-side, and lo! thereunder was the hill bright and dark +with men-at-arms, and over them floated the Banners of the Wolf, and the +Banners of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull. Then gave forth the +bowmen of the kindreds their first shout, and they made no stay in their +shooting; but shot the eagerer, for they deemed that help would come +without their turning about to draw it to them: and even so it was. For +straightway down the bent came striding Face-of-god betwixt the two +Banners of the Wolf, and beside him were Red-wolf the tall and War-grove, +and therewithal Wood-wont and Wood-wicked, and many other men of the +Wolf; for now that the men of the kindreds had been brought face to face +with the foe, and there was less need of them for way-leaders, the more +part of them were liefer to fight under their own banner along with the +Woodlanders; so that the company of those who went under the Wolves was +more than three long hundreds and a half; and the bowmen on the edge of +the bent shouted again and merrily, when they felt that their brothers +were amongst them, and presently was the arrow-storm at its fiercest, and +the twanging of bow-strings and the whistle of the shafts was as the wind +among the clefts of the mountains; for all the new-comers were bowmen of +the best. + +But the kindreds of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull, they hung yet a +while longer on the hills’ brow, their banners floating over them and +their horns blowing; and the Dusky Felons in the Market-place beheld +them, and fear and rage at once filled their hearts, and a fierce and +dreadful yell brake out from them, and joyously did the Men of Burgdale +answer them, and song arose amongst them even such as this: + + _The Men of the Bridge sing_: + + Why stand ye together, why bear ye the shield, + Now the calf straineth tether at edge of the field? + + Now the lamb bleateth stronger and waters run clear, + And the day groweth longer and glad is the year? + + Now the mead-flowers jostle so thick as they stand, + And singeth the throstle all over the land? + + _The Men of the Steer sing_: + + No cloud the day darkened, no thunder we heard, + But the horns’ speech we hearkened as men unafeared. + + Yea, so merry it sounded, we turned from the Dale, + Where all wealth abounded, to wot of its tale. + + _The Men of the Bridge sing_: + + What white boles then bear ye, what wealth of the woods? + What chafferers hear ye bid loud for your goods? + + _The Men of the Bull sing_: + + O the bright beams we carry are stems of the steel; + Nor long shall we tarry across them to deal. + + Hark the men of the cheaping, how loudly they cry + On the hook for the reaping of men doomed to die! + + _They all sing_: + + Heave spear up! fare forward, O Men of the Dale! + For the Warrior, our war-ward, shall hearken the tale. + +Therewith they ceased a moment, and then gave a great and hearty shout +all together, and all their horns blew, and they moved on down the hill +as one man, slowly and with no jostling, the spear-men first, and then +they of the axe and the sword; and on their flanks the deft archers +loosed on the stumbling jostling throng of the Dusky Men, who for their +part came on drifting and surging up the road to the hill. + +But when those big spearmen of the Dale had gone a little way the horns’ +voice died out, and their great-staved spears rose up from their +shoulders into the air, and stood so a moment, and then slowly fell +forward, as the oars of the longship fall into the row-locks, and then +over the shoulders of the foremost men showed the steel of the five ranks +behind them, and their own spears cast long bars of shadow on the +whiteness of the sunny road. No sound came from them now save the rattle +of their armour and the tramp of their steady feet; but from the Dusky +Men rose up hideous confused yelling, and those that could free +themselves from the tangle of the throng rushed desperately against the +on-rolling hedge of steel, and the whole throng shoved on behind them. +Then met steel and men; here and there an ash-stave broke; here and there +a Dusky Felon rolled himself unhurt under the ash-staves, and hewed the +knees of the Dalesmen, and a tall man came tottering down; but what men +or wood-wights could endure the push of spears of those mighty +husbandmen? The Dusky Ones shrunk back yelling, or turned their backs +and rushed at their own folk with such fierce agony that they entered +into the throng, till the terror of the spear reached to the midmost of +it and swayed them back on the hindermost; for neither was there outgate +for the felons on the flanks of the spearmen, since there the feathered +death beset them, and the bowmen (and the Bride amongst the foremost) +shot wholly together, and no shaft flew idly. But the wise leaders of +the Dalesmen would not that they should thrust in too far amongst the +howling throng of the Dusky Men, lest they should be hemmed in by them; +for they were but a handful in regard to them: so there they stayed, +barring the way to the Dusky Men, and the bowmen still loosed from the +flanks of them, or aimed deftly from betwixt the ranks of the spearmen. + +And now was there a space of ten strides or more betwixt the Dalesmen and +their foes, over which the spears hung terribly, nor durst the Dusky Men +adventure there; and thereon was nought but men dead or sorely hurt. +Then suddenly a horn rang thrice shrilly over all the noise and clamour +of the throng, and the ranks of the spearmen opened, and forth into that +space strode two score of the swordsmen and axe-wielders of the Dale, +their weapons raised in their hands, and he who led them was Iron-hand of +the House of the Bull: tall he was, wide-shouldered, exceeding strong, +but beardless and fair-faced. He bore aloft a two-edged sword, +broad-bladed, exceeding heavy, so that few men could wield it in battle, +but not right long; it was an ancient weapon, and his father before him +had called it the Barley-scythe. With him were some of the best of the +kindreds, as Wolf of Whitegarth, Long-hand of Oakholt, Hart of Highcliff, +and War-well the captain of the Bridge. These made no tarrying on that +space of the dead, but cried aloud their cries: ‘For the Burg and the +Steer! for the Dale and the Bridge! for the Dale and the Bull!’ and so +fell at once on the Felons; who fled not, nor had room to flee; and also +they feared not the edge-weapons so sorely as they feared those huge +spears. So they turned fiercely on the swordsmen, and chiefly on +Iron-hand, as he entered in amongst them the first of all, hewing to the +right hand and the left, and many a man fell before the Barley-scythe; +for they were but little before him. Yet as one fell another took his +place, and hewed at him with the steel axe and the crooked sword; and +with many strokes they clave his shield and brake his helm and rent his +byrny, while he heeded little save smiting with the Barley-scythe, and +the blood ran from his arm and his shoulder and his thigh. + +But War-well had entered in among the foe on his left hand, and +unshielded hove up a great broad-bladed axe, that clave the iron helms of +the Dusky Men, and rent their horn-scaled byrnies. He was not very tall, +but his shoulders were huge and his arms long, and nought could abide his +stroke. He cleared a ring round Iron-hand, whose eyes were growing dim +as the blood flowed from him, and hewed three strokes before him; then +turned and drew the champion out of the throng, and gave him into the +arms of his fellows to stanch the blood that drained away the might of +his limbs; and then with a great wordless roar leaped back again on the +Dusky Men as the lion leapeth on the herd of swine; and they shrank away +before him; and all the swordsmen shouted, ‘For the Bridge, for the +Bridge!’ and pressed on the harder, smiting down all before them. On his +left hand now was Hart of Highcliff wielding a good sword hight +Chip-driver, wherewith he had slain and hurt a many, fighting wisely with +sword and shield, and driving the point home through the joints of the +armour. But even therewith, as he drave a great stroke at a lord of the +Dusky Ones, a cast-spear came flying and smote him on the breast, so that +he staggered, and the stroke fell flatlings on the shield-boss of his +foe, and Chip-driver brake atwain nigh the hilts; but Hart closed with +him, and smote him on the face with the pommel, and tore his axe from his +hand and clave his skull therewith, and slew him with his own weapon, and +fought on valiantly beside War-well. + +Now War-well had fought so fiercely that he had rent his own hauberk with +the might of his strokes, and as he raised his arm to smite a huge +stroke, a deft man of the Felons thrust the spike of his war-axe up under +his arm; and when War-well felt the smart of the steel, he turned on that +man, and, letting his axe fall down to his wrist and hang there by its +loop, he caught the foeman up by the neck and the breech, and drave him +against the other Dusky Ones before him, so that their weapons pierced +and rent their own friend and fellow. Then he put forth the might of his +arms and the pith of his body, and hove up that felon and cast him on to +the heads of his fellow murder-carles, so that he rent them and was rent +by them. Then War-well fell on again with the axe, and all the champions +of the Dale shouted and fell on with him, and the foe shrank away; and +the Dalesmen cleared a space five fathoms’ length before them, and the +spearmen drew onward and stood on the space whereon the first onslaught +had been. + +Then drew those hewers of the Dale together, and forth from the company +came the man that bare the Banner of the Bridget and the champions +gathered round him, and they ordered their ranks and strode with the +Banner before them three times to and fro across the road athwart the +front of the spearmen, and then with a great shout drew back within the +spear-hedge. Albeit five of the champions of the Dale had been slain +outright there, and the more part of them hurt more or less. + +But when all were well within the ranks, once again blew the horn, and +all the spears sank to the rest, and the kindreds drave the spear-furrow, +and a space was swept clear before them, and the cries and yells of the +Dusky Men were so fierce and wild that the rough voices of the Dalesmen +were drowned amidst them. + +Forth then came every bowman of the kindred that was there and loosed on +the Dusky Men; and they forsooth had some bowmen amongst them, but cooped +up and jostled as they were they shot but wildly; whereas each shaft of +the Dale went home truly. + +But amongst the bowmen forth came the Bride in her glittering war-gear, +and stepped lightly to the front of the spearmen. Her own yew bow had +been smitten by a shaft and broken in her hand: so she had caught up a +short horn bow and a quiver from one of the slain of the Dusky Men; and +now she knelt on one knee under the shadow of the spears nigh to her +grandsire Hall-ward, and with a pale face and knitted brow notched and +loosed, and notched and loosed on the throng of foemen, as if she were +some daintily fashioned engine of war. + +So fared the battle on the road that went from the south into the +Market-stead. Valiantly had the kindred fought there, and no man of them +had blenched, and much had they won; but the way was perilous before +them, for the foe was many and many. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. OF FACE-OF-GOD’S ONSLAUGHT. + + +NOW the banners of the Wolf flapped and rippled over the heads of the +Woodlanders and the Men of the Wolf; and the men shot all they might, nor +took heed now to cover themselves against the shafts of the Dusky Men. +As for these, for all they were so many, their arrow-shot was no great +matter, for they were in very evil order, as has been said; and moreover, +their rage was so great to come to handy strokes with these foemen, that +some of them flung away their bows to brandish the axe or the sword. +Nevertheless were some among the kindred hurt or slain by their arrows. + +Now stood Face-of-god with the foremost; and from where he stood he could +see somewhat of the battle of the Dalesmen, and he wotted that it was +thriving; therefore he looked before him and close around him, and noted +what was toward there. The space betwixt the houses and the break of the +bent was crowded with the fury of the Dusky Men tossing their weapons +aloft, crying to each other and at the kindred, and here and there +loosing a bow-string on them; but whatever was their rage they might not +come a many together past a line within ten fathom of the bent’s end; for +three hundred of the best of bowmen were shooting at them so ceaselessly +that no Dusky man was safe of any bare place of his body, and they fell +over one another in that penfold of slaughter, and for all their madness +did but little. + +Yet was the heart of the War-leader troubled; for he wotted that it might +not last for ever, and there seemed no end to the throng of +murder-carles; and the time would come when the arrowshot would be spent, +and they must needs come to handy strokes, and that with so many. + +Now a voice spake to him as he gazed with knitted brows and careful heart +on that turmoil of battle: + +‘What now hast thou done with the Sun-beam, and where is her brother? Is +the Chief of the Wolf skulking when our work is so heavy? And thou +meseemeth art overlate on the field: the mowing of this meadow is no +sluggard’s work.’ + +He turned and beheld Bow-may, and gazed on her face for a moment, and saw +her eyes how they glittered, and how the pommels of her cheeks were +burning red and her lips dry and grey; but before he answered he looked +all round about to see what was to note; and he touched Bow-may on the +shoulder and pointed to down below where a man of the Felons had just +come out of the court of one of the houses: a man taller than most, very +gaily arrayed, with gilded scales all over him, so that, with his dark +face and blue eyes, he looked like some strange dragon. Bow-may spake +not, but stamped her foot with anger. Yet if her heart were hot, her +hand was steady; for she notched a shaft, and just as the Dusky Chief +raised his axe and brandished it aloft, she loosed, and the shaft flew +and smote the felon in the armpit and the default of the armour, and he +fell to earth. But even as she loosed, Face-of-god cried out in a loud +voice: + +‘O lads of battle! shoot close and all together. Tarry not, tarry not! +for we need a little time ere sword meets sword, and the others of the +kindreds are at work!’ + +But Bow-may turned round to him and said: ‘Wilt thou not answer me? +Where is thy kindness gone?’ + +Even as she was speaking she had notched and loosed another shaft, +speaking as folk do who turn from busy work at loom or bench. + +Then said Face-of-god: ‘Shoot on, sister Bow-may! The Sun-beam is gone +with her brother, and he is with the Men of the Face.’ + +He broke off here, for a man fell beside him hurt in the neck, and +Face-of-god took his bow from his hands and shot a shaft, while one of +the women who had been hurt also tended the newly-wounded man. Then +Face-of-god went on speaking: + +‘She was unwilling to go, but Folk-might and I constrained her; for we +knew that this is the most perilous place of the battle—hah! see those +three felons, Bow-may! they are aiming hither.’ + +And again he loosed and Bow-may also, but a shaft rattled on his helm +withal and another smote a Woodlander beside him, and pierced through the +calf of his leg, as he turned and stooped to take fresh arrows from a +sheaf that lay there; but the carle took it by the notch and the point, +and brake it and drew it out, and then stood up and went on shooting. +And Face-of-god spake again: + +‘Folk-might skulketh not; nor the Men of the Vine, and the Sickle, and +the Face, nor the Shepherd-Folk: soon shall they be making our work easy +to us, if we can hold our own till then. They are on the other roads +that lead into the square. Now suffer me, and shoot on!’ + +Therewith he looked round about him, and he saw on the left hand that all +was quiet; and before him was the confused throng of the Dusky Men +trampling their own dead and wounded, and not able as yet to cross that +death-line of the arrow so near to them. But on his right hand he saw +how they of the kindreds held them firm on the way. Then for a moment of +time he considered and thought, till him-seemed he could see the whole +battle yet to be foughten; and his face flushed, and he said sharply: +‘Bow-may, abide here and shoot, and show the others where to shoot, while +the arrows hold out; but we will go further for a while, and ye shall +follow when we have made the rent great enough.’ + +She turned to him and said: ‘Why art thou not more joyous? thou art like +an host without music or banners.’ + +‘Nay,’ said he, ‘heed not me, but my bidding!’ + +She said hastily: ‘I think I shall die here; since for all we have shot +we minish them nowise. Now kiss me this once amidst the battle, and say +farewell.’ + +He said: ‘Nay, nay; it shall not go thus. Abide a little while, and thou +shalt see all this tangle open, as the sun cleaveth the clouds on the +autumn morning. Yet lo thou! since thou wilt have it so.’ + +And he bent forward and kissed her face, and now the tears ran over it, +and she said smiling somewhat: ‘Now is this more than I looked for, +whatso may betide.’ + +But while she was yet speaking he cried in a great voice: + +‘Ye who have spent your shot, or have nigh spent it, to axe and sword, +and follow me to clear the ground ’twixt the bent and the halls. Let +each help each, but throng not each other. Shoot wisely, ye bowmen, and +keep our backs clear of the foe. On, on! for the Burg and the Face, for +the Burg and the Face!’ + +Therewith he leapt down the steep of the hill, bounding like the hart, +with Dale-warden naked in his hand; and they that followed were two score +and ten; and the arrows of their bowmen rained over their heads on the +Dusky Men, as they smote down the first of the foemen, and the others +shrieked and shrank from them, or turned on them smiting wildly and +desperately. + +But Face-of-god swept round the great sword and plunged into that sea of +turmoil and noise and evil sights and savours, and even therewith he +heard clearly a voice that said: ‘Goldring, I am hurt; take my bow a +while!’ and knew it for Bow-may’s; but it came to his ears like the song +of a bird without meaning; for it was as if his life were changed at +once; and in a minute or two he had cut thrice with the edge and thrust +twice with the point, eager, but clear-eyed and deft; and he saw as in a +picture the foe before him, and the grey roofs of Silver-stead, and +through the gap in them the tops of the blue ridges far aloof. And now +had three fallen before him, and they feared him, and turned on him, and +smote so many together that their strokes crossed each other, and one +warded him from the other; and he laughed aloud and shielded himself, and +drave the point of Dale-warden amidst the tangle of weapons through the +open mouth of a captain of the Felons, and slashed a cheek with a +back-stroke, and swept round the edge to his right hand and smote off a +blue-eyed snub-nosed head; and therewith a pole-axe smote him on the left +side of his helm, so that he tottered; but he swung himself round, and +stood stark and upright, and gave a short hack with the edge, keeping +Dale-warden well in hand, and a gold-clad felon, a champion of them, and +their tallest on the ground, fell aback, his throat gaping more than the +mouth of him. + +Then Face-of-god shouted and waved Dale-warden aloft to the Banner of the +Wolf that floated behind and above him, and he cried out: ‘As I have +promised so have I done!’ And he looked about, and beheld how valiantly +his fellows had been doing; for before him now was a space of earth with +no man standing on his feet thereon, like the swathe of the mowers of +June; and beyond that was the crowd of the Dusky Men wavering like the +tall grass abiding the scythe. + +But a minute, and they fell to casting at Face-of-god and his fellows +spears and knives and shields and whatsoever would fly; and a spear smote +him on the breast, but entered not; and a bossed shield fell over his +face withal, and a plummet of sling-lead smote his helm, and he fell to +earth; but leapt up again straightway, and heard as he arose a great +shout close to him, and a shrill cry, and lo! at his left side Bow-may, +her sword in her hand, and the hand red with blood from a shaft-graze on +her wrist, and a white cloth stained with blood about her neck; and on +his right side Wood-wise bearing the banner and crying the Wolf-whoop; +for the whole company was come down from the slope and stood around him. + +Then for a little while was there such a stilling of the tumult about him +there, that he heard great and glad cries from the Road of the South of +‘The Burg and the Steer! The Dale and the Bridge! The Dale and the +Bull!’ And thereafter a terrible great shrieking cry, and a huge voice +that cried: ‘Death, death, death to the Dusky Men!’ And thereafter again +fierce cries and great tumult of the battle. + +Then Face-of-god shook Dale-warden in the air, and strode forward +fiercely, but not speedily, and the whole company went foot for foot +along with him; and as he went, would he or would he not, song came into +his mouth, a song of the meadows of the Dale, even such as this: + + The wheat is done blooming and rust’s on the sickle, + And green are the meadows grown after the scythe. + Come, hands for the dance! For the toil hath been mickle, + And ’twixt haysel and harvest ’tis time to be blithe. + + And what shall the tale be now dancing is over, + And kind on the meadow sits maiden by man, + And the old man bethinks him of days of the lover, + And the warrior remembers the field that he wan? + + Shall we tell of the dear days wherein we are dwelling, + The best days of our Mother, the cherishing Dale, + When all round about us the summer is telling, + To ears that may hearken, the heart of the tale? + + Shall we sing of these hands and these lips that caress us, + And the limbs that sun-dappled lie light here beside, + When still in the morning they rise but to bless us, + And oft in the midnight our footsteps abide? + + O nay, but to tell of the fathers were better, + And of how we were fashioned from out of the earth; + Of how the once lowly spurned strong at the fetter; + Of the days of the deeds and beginning of mirth. + + And then when the feast-tide is done in the morning, + Shall we whet the grey sickle that bideth the wheat, + Till wan grow the edges, and gleam forth a warning + Of the field and the fallow where edges shall meet. + + And when cometh the harvest, and hook upon shoulder + We enter the red wheat from out of the road, + We shall sing, as we wend, of the bold and the bolder, + And the Burg of their building, the beauteous abode. + + As smiteth the sickle amid the sun’s burning + We shall sing how the sun saw the token unfurled, + When forth fared the Folk, with no thought of returning, + In the days when the Banner went wide in the world. + +Many saw that he was singing, but heard not the words of his mouth, for +great was the noise and clamour. But he heard Bow-may, how she laughed +by his side, and cried out: + +‘Gold-mane, dear-heart, now art thou merry indeed; and glad am I, though +they told me that I am hurt.—Ah! now beware, beware!’ + +For indeed the Dusky Men, seeing the wall of steel rolling down on them, +and cooped up by the houses, so that they scarce knew how to flee, turned +in the face of death, the foremost of them, and rushed furiously on the +array of the Woodlanders, and all those behind pressed on them like the +big wave of the ebbing sea when the gust of the wind driveth it landward. + +The Woodlanders met them, shouting out: ‘The Greenwood and the Wolf, the +Greenwood and the Wolf!’ But not a few of them fell there, though they +gave not back a foot; for so fierce now were the Dusky Men, that hewing +and thrusting at them availed nought, unless they were slain outright or +stunned; and even if they fell they rolled themselves up against their +tall foe-men, heeding not death or wounds if they might but slay or +wound. There then fell War-grove and ten others of the Woodlanders, and +four men of the Wolf, but none before he had slain his foeman; and as +each man fell or was hurt grievously, another took his place. + +Now a felon leapt up and caught Gold-ring by the neck and drew him down, +while another strove to smite his head off; but the stout carle drave a +wood-knife into the side of the first felon, and drew it out speedily and +smote the other, the smiter, in the face with the same knife, and +therewith they all three rolled together on the earth amongst the feet of +men. Even so did another felon by Bow-may, and dragged her down to the +ground, and smote her with a long knife as she tumbled down; and this was +a feat of theirs, for they were long-armed like apes. + +But as to this felon, Dale-warden’s edge split his skull, and Face-of-god +gathered his might together and bestrode Bow-may, till he had hewed a +space round about him with great two-handed strokes; and yet the blade +brake not. Then he caught up Bow-may from the earth, and the felon’s +knife had not pierced her hauberk, but she was astonied, and might not +stand upon her feet; and Face-of-god turned aside a little with her, and +half bore her, half thrust her through the throng to the rearward of his +folk, and left her there with two carlines of the Wolf who followed the +host for leechcraft’s sake, and then turned back shouting: ‘For the Face, +for the Face!’ and there followed him back to the battle, a band of those +who were fresh as yet, and their blades unbloodied, the young men of the +Woodlands. + +The wearier fighters made way for them as they came on shouting, and +Face-of-god was ahead of them all, and leapt at the foemen as a man +unwearied and striking his first stroke, so wondrous hale he was; and +they drave a wedge amidst of the Dusky Men, and then turned about and +stood back to back hewing at all that drifted on them. But as +Face-of-god cleared a space about him, lo! almost within reach of his +sword-point up rose a grim shape from the earth, tall, grey-haired, and +bloody-faced, who uttered the Wolf-whoop from amidst the terror of his +visage, and turned and swung round his head an axe of the Dusky Men, and +fell to smiting them with their own weapon. The Dusky Men shrieked in +answer to his whoop, and all shrunk from him and Face-of-god; but a cry +of joy went up from the kindred, for they knew Gold-ring, whom they +deemed had been slain. So they all pressed on together, smiting down the +foe before them, and the Dusky Men, some turned their backs and drave +those behind them, till they too turned and were strained through the +passages and courts of the houses, and some were overthrown and trodden +down as they strove to hold face to the Woodlanders, and some were hewn +down where they stood; but the whole throng of those that were on their +feet drifted toward the Market-place, the Woodlanders following them ever +with point and edge, till betwixt the bent and the houses no foeman stood +up against them. + +Then they stood together, and raised the whoop of victory, and blew their +horns long and loud in token of their joy, and the Woodland men lifted up +their voices and sang: + + Now far, far aloof + Standeth lintel and roof, + The dwelling of days + Of the Woodland ways: + Now nought wendeth there + Save the wolf and the bear, + And the fox of the waste + Faring soft without haste. + No carle the axe whetteth on oak-laden hill; + No shaft the hart letteth to wend at his will; + None heedeth the thunder-clap over the glade, + And the wind-storm thereunder makes no man afraid. + Is it thus then that endeth man’s days on Mid-earth, + For no man there wendeth in sorrow or mirth? + + Nay, look down on the road + From the ancient abode! + Betwixt acre and field + Shineth helm, shineth shield. + And high over the heath + Fares the bane in his sheath; + For the wise men and bold + Go their ways o’er the wold. + Now the Warrior hath given them heart and fair day, + Unbidden, undriven, they fare to the fray. + By the rock and the river the banners they bear, + And their battle-staves quiver ’neath halbert and spear; + On the hill’s brow they gather, and hang o’er the Dale + As the clouds of the Father hang, laden with bale. + + Down shineth the sun + On the war-deed half done; + All the fore-doomed to die, + In the pale dust they lie. + There they leapt, there they fell, + And their tale shall we tell; + But we, e’en in the gate + Of the war-garth we wait, + Till the drift of war-weather shall whistle us on, + And we tread all together the way to be won, + To the dear land, the dwelling for whose sake we came + To do deeds for the telling of song-becrowned fame. + Settle helm on the head then! Heave sword for the Dale! + Nor be mocked of the dead men for deedless and pale. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. MEN MEET IN THE MARKET OF SILVER-STEAD. + + +SO sang they; but Face-of-god went with Red-wolf, who was hurt sorely, +but not deadly, and led him back toward the place just under the break of +the bent; and there he found Bow-may in the hands of the women who were +tending her hurts. She smiled on him from a pale face as he drew nigh, +and he looked kindly at her, but he might not abide there, for haste was +in his feet. He left Red-wolf to the tending of the women, and clomb the +bent hastily, and when he deemed he was high enough, he looked about him; +and somewhat more than half an hour had worn since Bow-may had sped the +first shaft against the Dusky Men. + +He looked down into the Market-stead, and deemed he could see that nigh +the Mote-house the Dusky Men were gathering into some better order; but +they were no longer drifting toward the southern bents, but were standing +round about the altar as men abiding somewhat; and he deemed that they +had gotten more bowshot than before, and that most of them bare bows. +Though so many had been slain in the battles of the southern bents, yet +was the Market-stead full of them, so to say, for others had come thereto +in place of those that had fallen. + +But now as he looked arose mighty clamour amongst them; and a little west +of the Altar was a stir and a hurrying onward and around as in the eddies +of a swift stream. Face-of-god wotted not what was betiding there, but +he deemed that they were now ware of the onfall of Folk-might and +Hall-face and the men of Burgdale, for their faces were all turned to +where that was to be looked for. + +So he turned and looked on the road to the east of him, where had been +the battle of the Steer, but now it was all gone down toward the +Market-place, and he could but hear the clamour of it; but nought he saw +thereof, because of the houses that hid it. + +Then he cast his eyes on the road that entered the Market-stead from the +north, and he saw thereon many men gathered; and he wotted not what they +were; for though there were weapons amongst them, yet were they not all +weaponed, as far as he could see. + +Now as he looked this way and that, and deemed that he must tarry no +longer, but must enter into the courts of the houses before him and make +his way into the Market-stead, lo! a change in the throng of Dusky +Warriors nigh the Mote-house, and the ordered bands about the Altar fell +to drifting toward the western way with one accord, with great noise and +hurry and fierce cries of wrath. Then made Face-of-god no delay, but ran +down the bent at once, and at the break of it came upon Bow-may standing +upright and sword in hand; and as he passed, she joined herself to him, +and said: ‘What new tidings now, Gold-mane?’ + +‘Tidings of battle!’ he cried; ‘tidings of victory! Folk-might hath +fallen on, and the Dusky Men run hastily to meet him. Hark, hark!’ + +For as he spoke came a great noise of horns, and Bow-may said: ‘What horn +is that blowing?’ + +He stayed not, but shouted aloud: ‘For the Face, for the Face! Now will +we fall upon their backs!’ + +Therewith was he come to his company, and he cried out to them: ‘Heard ye +the horn, heard ye the horn? Now follow me into the Market-place; much +is yet to do!’ + +Even therewith came the sound of other horns, and all men were silent a +moment, and then shouted all together, for the Wood-landers knew it for +the horn of the Shepherds coming on by the eastward way. + +But Face-of-god waved his sword aloft and set on at once, and they +followed and gat them through the courts of the houses and their passages +into the Market-place. There they found more room than they looked to +find; for the foemen had drawn away on the left hand toward the battle of +Folk-might, and on the right hand toward the battle of the Steer; and +great was the noise and cry that came thence. + +Now stood Face-of-god under the two banners of the Wolf in the +Market-place of Silver-stead, and scarce had he time to be high-hearted, +for needs must he ponder in his mind what thing were best to do. For on +the left hand he deemed the foe was the strongest and best ordered; but +there also were the kindreds the doughtiest, and it was little like that +the felons should overcome the spear-casters of the Face and the +glaive-bearers of the Sickle, and the bowmen of the Vine: there also were +the wisest leaders, as the stark elder Stone-face, and the tall +Hall-face, and his father of the unshaken heart, and above all +Folk-might, fierce in his wrath, but his anger burning steady and clear, +like the oaken butt on the hearth of the hall. + +Then as his mind pictured him amongst the foe, it made therewith another +picture of the slender warrior Sun-beam caught in the tangle of battle, +and longing for him and calling for him amidst the hard hand-play. And +thereat his face flushed, and all his body waxed hot, and he was on the +very point of leading the onset against the foe on the left. But +therewith he bethought him of the bold men of the Steer and the Bridge +and the Bull weary with much fighting; and he remembered also that the +Bride was amongst them and fighting, it might be, amidst the foremost, +and if she were slain how should he ever hold up his head again. He +bethought him also that the Shepherds, who had fallen on by the eastern +road, valiant as they were, were scarce so well armed or so well led as +the others. Therewithal he bethought him (and again it came like a +picture into his mind) of falling on the foemen by whom the southern +battle was beset, and then the twain of them meeting the Shepherds, and +lastly, all those three companies joined together clearing the +Market-place, and meeting the men under Folk-might in the midst thereof. + +Therefore, scant had he been pondering these things in his mind for a +minute ere he cried out: ‘Blow up horns, blow up! forward banners, and +follow me, O valiant men! to the helping of the Steer, the Bridge, and +the Bull; deep have they thrust into the Dusky Throng, and belike are +hard pressed. Hark how the clamour ariseth from their besetters! On +now, on!’ + +Therewith hung a star of sunlight on his sword as he raised it aloft, and +the Wolf-whoop rang out terribly in the Market-place, for now had the +Woodlanders also learned it, and the hearts of the foemen sank as they +heard the might and the mass thereof. Then the battle of the Woodlanders +swept round and fell upon the flank of them who were besetting the +kindreds, as an iron bar smiteth the soft fir-wood; and they of the +kindreds heard their cry, but faintly and confusedly, so great was the +turmoil of battle about them. + +Now once more was Bow-may by the side of Face-of-god; and if she had not +the might of the mightiest, yet had she the deftness of the deftest. And +now was she calm and cool, shielding herself with a copper-bossed target, +and driving home the point of her sharp sword; white was her face, and +her eyes glittered amidst it, and she seemed to men like to those on +whose heads the Warrior hath laid the Holy Bread. + +As to Wood-wise, he had given the Banner of the red-jawed Wolf to +Stone-wolf, a huge and dreadful warrior some forty winters old, who had +fought in the Great Overthrow, and now hewed down the Dusky Men, wielding +a heavy short-sword left-handed. But Wood-wise himself fought with a +great sword, giving great strokes to the right hand and the left, and was +no more hasty than is the hewer in the winter wood. + +Face-of-god fought wisely and coldly now, and looked more to warding his +friends than destroying his foes, and both to Bow-may and Wood-wise his +sword was a shield; for oft he took the life from the edge of the +upraised axe, and stayed the point of the foeman in mid-air. + +Even so wisely fought the whole band of the Woodlanders and the Wolves, +who got within smiting space of the foe; for they had no will to cast +away their lives when assured victory was so nigh to them. Sooth to say, +the hand-play was not so hard to them as it had been betwixt the bent and +the houses; for the Dusky Men were intent on dealing with the men of the +kindreds from the southern road, who stood war-wearied before them; and +they were hewing and casting at them, and baying and yelling like dogs; +and though they turned about to meet the storm of the Woodlanders, yet +their hearts failed them withal, and they strove to edge away from +betwixt those two fearful scythes of war, fighting as men fleeing, not as +men in onset. But still the Woodlanders and the Wolves came on, hewing +and thrusting, smiting down the foemen in heaps, till the Dusky Throng +grew thin, and the staves of the Dalesmen and their bright banners in the +morning sun were clear to see, and at last their very faces, kindly and +familiar, worn and strained with the stress of battle, or laughing +wildly, or pale with the fury of the fight. Then rose up to the heavens +the blended shout of the Woodlanders and the Dalesmen, and now there was +nought of foemen betwixt them save the dead and the wounded. + +Then Face-of-god thrust his sword into its sheath all bloody as it was, +and strode over the dead men to where Hall-ward stood under the banner of +the Steer, and cast his arms about the old carle, and kissed him for joy +of the victory. But Hall-ward thrust him aback and looked him in the +face, and his cheeks were pale and his lips clenched, and his eyes +haggard and staring, and he said in a harsh voice: + +‘O young man, she is dead! I saw her fall. The Bride is dead, and thou +hast lost thy troth-plight maiden. O death, death to the Dusky Men!’ + +Then grew Face-of-god as pale as a linen sleeve, and all the new-comers +groaned and cried out. But a bystander said: ‘Nay, nay, it is nought so +bad as that; she is hurt, and sorely; but she liveth yet.’ + +Face-of-god heard him not. He forgot Dale-warden lying in his sheath, +and he saw that the last speaker had a great wood-axe broad and heavy in +his hand, so he cried: ‘Man, man, thine axe!’ and snatched it from him, +and turned about to the foe again, and thrust through the ranks, +suffering none to stay him till all his friends were behind and all his +foes before him. And as he burst forth from the ranks waving his axe +aloft, bare-headed now, his yellow hair flying abroad, his mouth crying +out, ‘Death, death, death to the Dusky Men!’ fear of him smote their +hearts, and they howled and fled before him as they might; for they said +that the Dalesmen had prayed their Gods into the battle. But not so fast +could they flee but he was presently amidst them, smiting down all about +him, and they so terror-stricken that scarce might they raise a hand +against him. All that blended host followed him mad with wrath and +victory, and as they pressed on, they heard behind them the horns and +war-cries of the Shepherds falling on from the east. Nought they heeded +that now, but drave on a fearful storm of war, and terrible was the +slaughter of the Felons. + +It was but a few minutes ere they had driven them up against that great +stack of faggots that had been dight for the burnt-offering of men, and +many of the felons had mounted up on to it, and now in their anguish of +fear were shooting arrows and casting spears on all about them, heeding +little if they were friend or foe. Now were the men of the kindreds at +point to climb this twiggen burg; but by this time the fury of +Face-of-god had run clear, and he knew where he was and what he was +doing; so he stayed his folk, and cried out to them: ‘Forbear, climb not! +let the torch help the sword!’ And therewith he looked about and saw the +fire-pot which had been set down there for the kindling of the bale-fire, +and the coals were yet red in it; so he snatched up a dry brand and +lighted it thereat, and so did divers others, and they thrust them among +the faggots, and the fire caught at once, and the tongues of flame began +to leap from faggot to faggot till all was in a light low; for the wood +had been laid for that very end, and smeared with grease and oil so that +the burning to the god might be speedy. + +But the fierceness of the kindreds heeded not the fire, nor overmuch the +men who leapt down from the stack before it, but they left all behind +them, faring straight toward the western outgate from the Market-stead; +and Face-of-god still led them on; though by now he was wholly come to +his right mind again, albeit the burden of sorrow yet lay heavy on his +heart. He had broken his axe, and had once more drawn Dale-warden from +his sheath, and many felt his point and edge. + +But now, as they chased, came a rush of men upon them again, as though a +new onset were at hand. That saw Face-of-god and Hall-ward and War-well, +and other wise leaders of men, and they bade their folk forbear the +chase, and lock their ranks to meet the onfall of this new wave of +foemen. And they did so, and stood fast as a wall; but lo! the onrush +that drave up against them was but a fleeing shrieking throng, and no +longer an array of warriors, for many had cast away their weapons, and +were rushing they knew not whither; for they were being thrust on the +bitter edges of Face-of-god’s companies by the terror of the fleers from +the onset of the men of the Face, the Sickle, and the Vine, whom +Hall-face and Stone-face were leading, along with Folk-might. Then once +again the men of Face-of-god gave forth the whoop of victory, and pressed +forward again, hewing their way through the throng of fleers, but turning +not to chase to the right or the left; while at their backs came on the +Shepherd-folk, who had swept down all that withstood them; for now indeed +was the Market-stead getting thinner of living men. + +So led the War-leader his ordered ranks, till at last over the tangled +crowd of runaways he saw the banners of the Burg and the Face flashing +against the sun, and heard the roar of the kindreds as they drave the +chase towards them. Then he lifted up his sword, and stood still, and +all the host behind him stayed and cast a huge shout up to the heavens, +and there they abode the coming of the other Dalesmen. + +But the War-leader sent a message to Hound-under-Greenbury, bidding him +lead the Shepherds to the chase of the Dusky Men, who were now all +fleeing toward the northern outgate of the Market. Howbeit he called to +mind the throng he had seen on the northern road before they were come +into the Market-stead, and deemed that way also death awaited the foemen, +even if the men of the kindreds forbore them. + +But presently the space betwixt the Woodlanders and the men of the Face +was clear of all but the dead, so that friend saw the face of friend; and +it could be seen that the warriors of the Face were ruddy and smiling for +joy, because the battle had been easy to them, and but few of them had +fallen; for the Dusky Men who had left the Market-stead to fall on them, +had had room for fleeing behind them, and had speedily turned their backs +before the spear-casting of the men of the Face and the onrush of the +swordsmen. + +There then stood these victorious men facing one another, and the +banner-bearers on either side came through the throng, and brought the +banners together between the two hosts; and the Wolf kissed the Face, and +the Sickle and the Vine met the Steer and the Bridge and the Bull: but +the Shepherds were yet chasing the fleers. + +There in the forefront stood Hall-face the tall, with the joy of battle +in his eyes. And Stone-face, the wise carle in war, stood solemn and +stark beside him; and there was the goodly body and the fair and kindly +visage of the Alderman smiling on the faces of his friends. But as for +Folk-might, his face was yet white and aweful with anger, and he looked +restlessly up and down the front of the kindreds, though he spake no +word. + +Then Face-of-god could no longer forbear, but he thrust Dale-warden into +his sheath, and ran forward and cast his arms about his father’s neck and +kissed him; and the blood of himself and of the foemen was on him, for he +had been hurt in divers places, but not sorely, because of the good +hammer-work of the Alderman. + +Then he kissed his brother and Stone-face, and he took Folk-might by the +hand, and was on the point of speaking some word to him, when the ranks +of the Face opened, and lo! the Sun-beam in her bright war-gear, and the +sword girt to her side, and she unhurt and unsullied. + +Then was it to him as when he met her first in Shadowy Vale, and he +thought of little else than her; but she stepped lightly up to him, and +unashamed before the whole host she kissed him on the mouth, and he cast +his mailed arms about her, and joy made him forget many things and what +was next to do, though even at that moment came afresh a great clamour of +shrieks and cries from the northern outgate of the Market-stead: and the +burning pile behind them cast a great wavering flame into the air, +contending with the bright sun of that fair day, now come hard on +noontide. But ere he drew away his face from the Sun-beam’s, came memory +to him, and a sharp pang shot through his heart, as he heard Folk-might +say: ‘Where then is the Shield-may of Burgstead? where is the Bride?’ + +And Face-of-god said under his breath: ‘She is dead, she is dead!’ And +then he stared out straight before him and waited till someone else +should say it aloud. But Bow-may stepped forward and said: ‘Chief of the +Wolf, be of good cheer; our kinswoman is hurt, but not deadly.’ + +The Alderman’s face changed, and he said: ‘Hast thou seen her, Bow-may?’ + +‘Nay,’ she said. ‘How should I leave the battle? but others have told me +who have seen her.’ + +Folk-might stared into the ranks of men before him, but said nothing. +Said the Alderman: ‘Is she well tended?’ + +‘Yea, surely,’ said Bow-may, ‘since she is amongst friends, and there are +no foemen behind us.’ + +Then came a voice from Folk-might which said: ‘Now were it best to send +good men and deft in arms, and who know Silver-dale, from house to house, +to search for foemen who may be lurking there.’ + +The Alderman looked kindly and sadly on him and said: + +‘Kinsman Stone-face, and Hall-face my son, the brunt of the battle is now +over, and I am but a simple man amongst you; therefore, if ye will give +me leave, I will go see this poor kinswoman of ours, and comfort her.’ + +They bade him go: so he sheathed his sword, and went through the press +with two men of the Steer toward the southern road; for the Bride had +been brought into a house nigh the corner of the Market-place. + +But Face-of-god looked after his father as he went, and remembrance of +past days came upon him, and such a storm of grief swept over him, as he +thought of the Bride lying pale and bleeding and brought anigh to her +death, that he put his hands to his face and wept as a child that will +not be comforted; nor had he any shame of all those bystanders, who in +sooth were men good and kindly, and had no shame of his grief or +marvelled at it, for indeed their own hearts were sore for their lovely +kinswoman, and many of them also wept with Face-of-god. But the Sun-beam +stood by and looked on her betrothed, and she thought many things of the +Bride, and was sorry, albeit no tears came into her eyes; then she looked +askance at Folk-might and trembled; but he said coldly, and in a loud +voice: + +‘Needs must we search the houses for the lurking felons, or many a man +will yet be murdered. Let Wood-wicked lead a band of men at once from +house to house.’ + +Then said a man of the Wolf hight Hardgrip: ‘Wood-wicked was slain +betwixt the bent and the houses.’ + +Said Folk-might: ‘Let it be Wood-wise then.’ + +But Bow-may said: ‘Wood-wise is even now hurt in the leg by a wounded +felon, and may not go afoot.’ + +Then said Folk-might: ‘Is Crow the Shaft-speeder anigh?’ + +‘Yea, here am I,’ quoth a tall man of fifty winters, coming from out the +ranks where stood the Wolves. + +Said Folk-might: ‘Kinsman Crow, do thou take two score and ten of doughty +men who are not too hot-headed, and search every house about the +Market-place; but if ye come on any house that makes a stout defence, +send ye word thereof to the Mote-house, where we will presently be, and +we shall send you help. Slay every felon that ye fall in with; but if ye +find in the houses any of the poor folk crouching and afraid, comfort +their hearts all ye may, and tell them that now is life come to them.’ + +So Crow fell to getting his band together, and presently departed with +them on his errand. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. THE KINDREDS WIN THE MOTE-HOUSE. + + +THE din and tumult still came from the north side of the Market-place, so +that all the air was full of noise; and Face-of-god deemed that the +thralls had gotten weapons into their hands and were slaying their +masters. + +Now he lifted up his face, and put his hand on Folk-might’s shoulder, and +said in a loud voice: + +‘Kinsmen, it were well if our brother were to bid the banners into the +Mote-house of the Wolf, and let all the Host set itself in array before +the said house, and abide till the chasers of the foe come to us thither; +for I perceive that they are now become many, and are more than those of +our kindred.’ + +Then Folk-might looked at him with kind eyes, and said: + +‘Thou sayest well, brother; even so let it be!’ + +And he lifted up his sword, and Face-of-god cried out in a loud voice: +‘Forward, banners! blow up horns! fare we forth with victory!’ + +So the Host drew its ranks together in good order, and they all set +forward, and old Stone-face took the Sun-beam by the hand and led on +behind Folk-might and the War-leader. But when they came to the Hall, +then saw they how the steps that led up to the door were high and double, +going up from each side without any railing or fool-guard; and crowding +the stairs and the platform thereof was a band of the Dusky Men, as many +as could stand thereon, who shot arrows at the host of the kindreds, +howling like dogs, and chattering like apes; and arrows and spears came +from the windows of the Hall; yea, and on the very roof a score of these +felons were riding the ridge and mocking like the trolls of old days. + +Now when they saw this they stayed a while, and men shielded them against +the shafts; but the leaders drew together in front of the Host, and +Folk-might fell to speech; and his face was very pale and stern; for now +he had had time to think of the case of the Bride, and fierce wrath, and +grief unholpen filled his soul. So he said: + +‘Brothers, this is my business to deal with; for I see before me the +stair that leadeth to the Mote-house of my people, and now would I sit +there whereas my fathers sat, when peace was on the Dale, as once more it +shall be to-morrow. Therefore up this stair will I go, and none shall +hinder me; and let no man of the host follow me till I have entered into +the Hall, unless perchance I fall dead by the way; but stand ye still and +look on.’ + +‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘this is partly the business of the War-leader. +There are two stairs. Be content to take the southern one, and I will +take the northern. We shall meet on the plain stone at the top.’ + +But Hall-face said: ‘War-leader, may I speak?’ + +‘Speak, brother,’ said Face-of-god. + +Said Hall-face: ‘I have done but little to-day, War-leader. I would +stand by thee on the northern stair; so shall Folk-might be content, if +he doeth two men’s work who are not little-hearted.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘The doom of the War-leader is that Folk-might shall +fall on by the southern stair to slake his grief and increase his glory, +and Face-of-god and Hall-face by the northern. Haste to the work, O +brothers!’ + +And he and Hall-face went to their places, while all looked on. But the +Sun-beam, with her hand still in Stone-face’s, she turned white to the +lips, and stared with wild eyes before her, not knowing where she was; +for she had deemed that the battle was over, and Face-of-god saved from +it. + +But Folk-might tossed up his head and laughed, and cried out, ‘At last, +at last!’ And his sword was in his hand, the Sleep-thorn to wit, a blade +of ancient fame; so now he let it fall and hang to his wrist by the +leash, while he clapped his hands together and uttered the Wolf-whoop +mightily, and all the men of the Wolf that were in the host, and the +Woodlanders withal, uttered it with him. Then he put his shield over his +head and stood before the first of the steps, and the Dusky Men laughed +to see one man come against them, though there was death in their hearts. +But he laughed back at them in triumph, and set his foot on the step, and +let Sleep-thorn’s point go into the throat of a Dusky lord, and thrust +amongst them, hewing right and left, and tumbling men over the edge of +the stair, which was to them as the narrow path along the cliff-side that +hangeth over the unfathomed sea. They hewed and thrust at him in turn; +but so close were they packed that their weapons crossed about him, and +one shielded him from the other, and they swayed staggering on that +fearful verge, while the Sleep-thorn crept here and there amongst them, +lulling their hot fury. For, as desperate as they were, and fighting for +death and not for life, they had a horror of him and of the sea of hatred +below them, and feared where to set their feet, and he feared nought at +all, but from feet to sword-point was but an engine of slaughter, while +the heart within him throbbed with fury long held back as he thought upon +the Bride and her wounding, and all the wrongs of his people since their +Great Undoing. + +So he smote and thrust, till him-seemed the throng of foes thinned before +him: with his sword-pommel he smote a lord of the Dusky Ones in the face, +so that he fell over the edge amongst the spears of the kindred; then he +thrust the point of Sleep-thorn towards the Hall-door through the breast +of another, and then it seemed to him that he had but one before him; so +he hove up the edges to cleave him down, but ere the stroke fell, close +to his ears exceeding loud rang out the cry, ‘For the Burg and the Face! +for the Face, for the Face!’ and he drew aback a little, and his eyes +cleared, and lo! it was Hall-face the tall, his long sword all reddened +with battle; and beside him stood Face-of-god, silent and panting, his +face pale with the fierce anger of the fight, and the weariness which was +now at last gaining upon him. There stood those three with no other +living man upon the plain of the stairs. + +Then Face-of-god turned shouting to the Folk, and cried: + +‘Forth now with the banners! For now is the Wolf come home. On into the +Hall, O Kindred of the Gods!’ + +Then poured the Folk up over the stairs and into the Hall of the Wolf, +the banners flapping over their heads; and first went the War-leader and +Folk-might and Hall-face, and then the three delivered thralls, +Wolf-stone, God-swain, and Spear-fist, and Dallach with them, though both +he and Wolf-stone had been hurt in the battle; and then came blended +together the Men of the Face along with them of the Wolf who had entered +the Market-stead with them, and with these were Stone-face and Wood-wont +and Bow-may, leading the Sun-beam betwixt them; and now was she come to +herself again, though her face was yet pale, and her eyes gleamed as she +stepped across the threshold of the Hall. + +But when a many were gotten in, and the first-comers had had time to +handle their weapons and look about them, a cry of the utmost wrath broke +from Folk-might and those others who remembered the Hall from of old. +For wretched and befouled was that well-builded house: the hangings rent +away; the goodly painted walls daubed and smeared with wicked tokens of +the Alien murderers: the floor, once bright with polished stones of the +mountain, and strewn with sweet-smelling flowers, was now as foul as the +den of the man-devouring troll of the heaths. From the fair-carven roof +of oak and chestnut-beams hung ugly knots of rags and shapeless images of +the sorcery of the Dusky Men. And furthermore, and above all, from the +last tie-beam of the roof over the daïs dangled four shapes of +men-at-arms, whom the older men of the Wolf knew at once for the embalmed +bodies of their four great chieftains, who had been slain on the day of +the Great Undoing; and they cried out with horror and rage as they saw +them hanging there in their weapons as they had lived. + +There was the Hostage of the Earth, his shield painted with the green +world circled with the worm of the sea. There was the older Folk-might, +the uncle of the living man, bearing a shield with an oak and a lion done +thereon. There was Wealth-eker, on whose shield was done a golden sheaf +of wheat. There was he who bore a name great from of old, Folk-wolf to +wit, bearing on his shield the axe of the hewer. There they hung, dusty, +befouled, with sightless eyes and grinning mouths, in the dimmed sunlight +of the Hall, before the eyes of that victorious Host, stricken silent at +the sight of them. + +Underneath them on the daïs stood the last remnant of the battle of the +Dusky Men; and they, as men mad with coming death, shook their weapons, +and with shrieking laughter mocked at the overcomers, and pointed to the +long-dead chiefs, and called on them in the tongue of the kindreds to +come down and lead their dear kinsmen to the high-seat; and then they +cried out to the living warriors of the Wolf, and bade them better their +deed of slaying, and set to work to make alive again, and cause their +kinsmen to live merry on the earth. + +With that last mock they handled their weapons and rushed howling on the +warriors to meet their death; nor was it long denied them; for the sword +of the Wolf, the axe of the Woodland, and the spear of the Dale soon made +an end of the dreadful lives of these destroyers of the Folks. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. MEN SING IN THE MOTE-HOUSE. + + +THEN strode the Warriors of the Wolf over the bodies of the slain on to +the daïs of their own Hall; and Folk-might led the Sun-beam by the hand, +and now was his sword in its sheath, and his face was grown calm, though +it was stern and sad. But even as he trod the daïs comes a slim swain of +the Wolves twisting himself through the throng, and so maketh way to +Folk-might, and saith to him: + +‘Chieftain, the Alderman of Burgdale sendeth me hither to say a word to +thee; even this, which I am to tell to thee and the War-leader both: It +is most true that our kinswoman the Bride will not die, but live. So +help me, the Warrior and the Face! This is the word of the Alderman.’ + +When Folk-might heard this, his face changed and he hung his head; and +Face-of-god, who was standing close by, beheld him and deemed that tears +were falling from his eyes on to the hall-floor. As for him, he grew +exceeding glad, and he turned to the Sun-beam and met her eyes, and saw +that she could scarce refrain her longing for him; and he was abashed for +the sweetness of his love. But she drew close up to him, and spake to +him softly and said: + +‘This is the day that maketh amends; and yet I long for another day. +When I saw thee coming to me that first day in Shadowy Vale, I thought +thee so goodly a warrior that my heart was in my mouth. But now how +goodly thou art! For the battle is over, and we shall live.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, ‘and none shall begrudge us our love. Behold +thy brother, the hard-heart, the warrior; he weepeth because he hath +heard that the Bride shall live. Be sure then that she shall not gainsay +him. O fair shall the world be to-morrow!’ + +But she said: ‘O Gold-mane, I have no words. Is there no minstrelsy +amongst us?’ + +Now by this time were many of the men of the Wolf and the Woodlanders +gathered on the daïs of the Hall; and the Dalesmen noting this, and +wotting that these men were now in their own Mote-house, withdrew them as +they might for the press toward the nether end thereof. That the +Sun-beam noted, and that all those about her save the War-leader were of +the kindreds of the Wolf and the Woodland, and, still speaking softly, +she said to Face-of-god: + +‘Gold-mane, meseemeth I am now in my wrong place; for now the Wolf +raiseth up his head, but I am departing from him. Surely I should now be +standing amongst my people of the Face, whereto I am going ere long.’ + +He said: ‘Beloved, I am now become thy kindred and thine home, and it is +meet for thee to stand beside me.’ + +She cast her eyes adown and answered not; and she fell a-pondering of how +sorely she had desired that fair dale, and now she would leave it, and be +content and more than content. + +But now the kindreds had sundered, they upon the daïs ranked themselves +together there in the House which their fathers had builded; and when +they saw themselves so meetly ordered, their hearts being full with the +sweetness of hope accomplished and the joy of deliverance from death, +song arose amongst them, and they fell to singing together; and this is +somewhat of their singing: + + Now raise we the lay + Of the long-coming day! + Bright, white was the sun + When we saw it begun: + O’er its noon now we live; + It hath ceased not to give; + It shall give, and give more + From the wealth of its store. + O fair was the yesterday! Kindly and good + Was the wasteland our guester, and kind was the wood; + Though below us for reaping lay under our hand + The harvest of weeping, the grief of the land; + Dumb cowered the sorrow, nought daring to cry + On the help of to-morrow, the deed drawing nigh. + + All increase throve + In the Dale of our love; + There the ox and the steed + Fed down the mead; + The grapes hung high + ’Twixt earth and sky, + And the apples fell + Round the orchard well. + Yet drear was the land there, and all was for nought; + None put forth a hand there for what the year wrought, + And raised it o’erflowing with gifts of the earth. + For man’s grief was growing beside of the mirth + Of the springs and the summers that wasted their wealth; + And the birds, the new-comers, made merry by stealth. + + Yet here of old + Abode the bold; + Nor had they wailed + Though the wheat had failed, + And the vine no more + Gave forth her store. + Yea, they found the waste good + For the fearless of mood. + Then to these, that were dwelling aloof from the Dale, + Fared the wild-wind a-telling the worst of the tale; + As men bathed in the morning they saw in the pool + The image of scorning, the throne of the fool. + The picture was gleaming in helm and in sword, + And shone forth its seeming from cups of the board. + + Forth then they came + With the battle-flame; + From the Wood and the Waste + And the Dale did they haste: + They saw the storm rise, + And with untroubled eyes + The war-storm they met; + And the rain ruddy-wet. + O’er the Dale then was litten the Candle of Day, + Night-sorrow was smitten, and gloom fled away. + How the grief-shackles sunder! How many to morn + Shall awaken and wonder how gladness was born! + O wont unto sorrow, how sweet unto you + Shall be pondering to-morrow what deed is to do! + + Fell many a man + ’Neath the edges wan, + In the heat of the play + That fashioned the day. + Praise all ye then + The death of men, + And the gift of the aid + Of the unafraid! + O strong are the living men mighty to save, + And good is their giving, and gifts that we have! + But the dead, they that gave us once, never again; + Long and long shall they save us sore trouble and pain. + O Banner above us, O God of the strong, + Love them as ye love us that bore down our wrong! + +So they sang in the Hall; and there was many a man wept, as the song +ended, for those that should never see the good days of the Dale, and all +the joy that was to be; and men swore, by all that they loved, that they +would never forget those that had fallen in the Winning of Silver-dale; +and that when each year the Cups of Memory went round, they should be no +mere names to them, but the very men whom they had known and loved. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. DALLACH FARETH TO ROSE-DALE: CROW TELLETH OF HIS ERRAND: +THE KINDREDS EAT THEIR MEAT IN SILVER-DALE. + + +NOW Dallach, who had gone away for a while, came back again into the +Hall; and at his back were a half score of men who bore ladders with +them: they were stout men, clad in scanty and ragged raiment, but girt +with swords and bearing axes, those of them who were not handling the +ladders. Men looked on them curiously, because they saw them to be of +the roughest of the thralls. They were sullen and fierce-eyed to behold, +and their hands and bare arms were flecked with blood; and it was easy to +see that they had been chasing the fleers, and making them pay for their +many torments of past days. + +But when Face-of-god beheld this he cried out: ‘Ho, Dallach! is it so +that thou hast bethought thee to bring in hither men to fall to the +cleansing of the Hall, and to do away the defiling of the Dusky Men?’ + +‘Even so, War-leader,’ said Dallach; ‘also ye shall know that all battle +is over in Silver-stead; for the thralls fell in numbers not to be +endured on the Dusky Men who had turned their backs to us, and hindered +them from fleeing north. But though they have slain many, they have not +slain all, and the remnant have fled by divers ways westaway, that they +may gain the wood and the ways to Rose-dale; and the stoutest of the +thralls are at their heels, and ever as they go fresh men from the fields +join in the chase with great joy. I have gathered together of the best +of them two hundreds and a half well-armed; and if thou wilt give me +leave, I will get to me yet more, and follow hard on the fleers, and so +get me home to Rose-dale; for thither will these runaways to meet whatso +of their kind may be left there. Also I would fain be there to set some +order amongst the poor folk of mine own people, whom this day’s work hath +delivered from torment. And if thou wilt suffer a few men of the +Dalesmen to come along with me, then shall all things be better done +there.’ + +‘Luck go with thine hands!’ said Face-of-god. ‘Take whomso thou wilt of +the Burgdalers that have a mind to fare with thee to the number of five +score; and send word of thy thriving to Folk-might, the chieftain of the +Dale; as for us, meseemeth that we shall abide here no long while. How +sayest thou, Folk-might, shall Dallach go?’ + +Then Folk-might, who stood close beside him, looked up and reddened +somewhat, as a man caught heedless when he should be heedful; but he +looked kindly on Face-of-god, and said: + +‘War-leader, so long as thou art in the Dale which ye kindreds have won +back for us, thou art the chieftain, and no other, and I bid thee do as +thou wilt in this matter, and in all things; and I hereby give command to +all my kindred to do according to thy will everywhere and always, as they +love me; and indeed I deem that thy will shall be theirs; since it is +only fools who know not their well-wishers. How say ye, kinsmen?’ + +Then those about cried out: ‘Hail to Face-of-god! Hail to the Dalesmen! +Hail to our friends!’ + +But Folk-might went up to Face-of-god, and threw his arms about him and +kissed him, and he said therewithal, so that most men heard him: + +‘Herewith I kiss not only thee, thou goodly and glorious warrior! but +this kiss and embrace is for all the men of the kindreds of the Dale and +the Shepherds; since I deem that never have men more valiant dwelt upon +the earth.’ + +Therewith all men shouted for joy of him, and were exceeding glad; but +Folk-might spake apart to Face-of-god and said: + +‘Brother, I suppose that thou wilt deem it good to abide in this Hall or +anigh it; for hereabouts now is the heart of the Host. But as for me, I +would have leave to depart for a little; since I have an errand, whereof +thou mayest wot.’ + +Then Face-of-god smiled on him, and said: ‘Go, and all good go with thee; +and tell my father that I would have tidings, since I may not be there.’ +So he spake; yet in his heart was he glad that he might not go to behold +the Bride lying sick and sorry. But Folk-might departed without more +words; and in the door of the Hall he met Crow the Shaft-speeder, who +would have spoken to him, and given him the tidings; but Folk-might said +to him: ‘Do thine errand to the War-leader, who is within the Hall.’ And +so went on his way. + +Then came Crow up the Hall, and stood before Face-of-god and said: +‘War-leader, we have done that which was to be done, and have cleared all +the houses about the Market-stead. Moreover, by the rede of Dallach we +have set certain men of the poor folk of the Dale, who are well looked to +by the others, to the burying of the slain felons; and they be digging +trenches in the fields on the north side of the Market-stead, and carry +the carcasses thither as they may. But the slain whom they find of the +kindreds do they array out yonder before this Hall. In all wise are +these men tame and biddable, save that they rage against the Dusky Men, +though they fear them yet. As for us, they deem us Gods come down from +heaven to help them. So much for what is good: now have I an ill word to +say; to wit, that in the houses whereas we have found many thralls alive, +yet also have we found many dead; for amongst these murder-carles were +some of an evil sort, who, when they saw that the battle would go against +them, rushed into the houses hewing down all before them—man, woman, and +child; so that many of the halls and chambers we saw running blood like +to shambles. To be short: of them whom they were going to hew to the +Gods, we have found thirteen living and three dead, of which latter is +one woman; and of the living, seven women; and all these, living and +dead, with the leaden shackles yet on them wherein they should be burned. +To all these and others whom we have found, we have done what of service +we could in the way of victual and clothes, so that they scarce believe +that they are on this lower earth. Moreover, I have with me two score of +them, who are men of some wits, and who know of the stores of victual and +other wares which the felons had, and these will fetch and carry for you +as much as ye will. Is all done rightly, War-leader?’ + +‘Right well,’ said Face-of-god, ‘and we give thee our thanks therefor. +And now it were well if these thy folk were to dight our dinner for us in +some green field the nighest that may be, and thither shall all the Host +be bidden by sound of horn. Meantime, let us void this Hall till it be +cleansed of the filth of the Dusky Ones; but hereafter shall we come +again to it, and light a fire on the Holy Hearth, and bid the Gods and +the Fathers come back and behold their children sitting glad in the +ancient Hall.’ + +Then men shouted and were exceeding joyous; but Face-of-god said once +more: ‘Bear ye a bench out into the Market-place over against the door of +this Hall: thereon will I sit with other chieftains of the kindreds, that +whoso will may have recourse to us.’ + +So therewith all the men of the kindreds made their ways out of the Hall +and into the Market-stead, which was by this time much cleared of the +slaughtered felons; and the bale for the burnt-offering was now but +smouldering, and a thin column of blue smoke was going up wavering amidst +the light airs of the afternoon. Men were somewhat silent now; for they +were stiff and weary with the morning’s battle; and a many had been hurt +withal; and on many there yet rested the after-grief of battle, and +sorrow for the loss of friends and well-wishers. + +For in the battle had fallen one long hundred and two of the men of the +Host; and of these were two score and five of the kindreds of the Steer, +the Bull, and the Bridge, who had made such valiant onslaught by the +southern road. Of the Shepherds died one score save three; for though +they scattered the foe at once, yet they fell on with such headlong +valour, rather than wisely, that many were trapped in the throng of the +Dusky Men. Of the Woodlanders were slain one score and nine; for hard +had been the fight about them, and no man of them spared himself one +whit. Of the men of the Wolf, who were but a few, fell sixteen men, and +all save two of these in Face-of-god’s battle. Of the Burgdale men whom +Folk-might led, to wit, them of the Face, the Vine, and the Sickle, were +but seven men slain outright. In this tale are told all those who died +of their hurts after the day of battle. Therewithal many others were +sorely hurt who mended, and went about afterwards hale and hearty. + +So as the folk abode in the Market-place, somewhat faint and weary, they +heard horns blow up merrily, and Crow the Shaft-speeder came forth and +stood on the mound of the altar, and bade men fare to dinner, and +therewith he led the way, bearing in his hand the banner of the Golden +Bushel, of which House he was; and they followed him into a fair and +great mead on the southwest of Silver-stead, besprinkled about with +ancient trees of sweet chestnut. There they found the boards spread for +them with the best of victual which the poor down-trodden folk knew how +to dight for them; and especially was there great plenty of good wine of +the sun-smitten bents. + +So they fell to their meat, and the poor folk, both men and women, served +them gladly, though they were somewhat afeard of these fierce +sword-wielders, the Gods who had delivered them. The said thralls were +mostly not of those who had fallen so bitterly on their fleeing masters, +but were men and women of the households, not so roughly treated as the +others, that is to say, those who had been wont to toil under the lash in +the fields and the silver-mines, and were as wild as they durst be. + +As for these waiting-thralls, the men of the kindreds were gentle and +blithe with them, and often as they served them would they stay their +hands (and especially if they were women), and would draw down their +heads to put a morsel in their mouths, or set the wine-cup to their lips; +and they would stroke them and caress them, and treat them in all wise as +their dear friends. Moreover, when any man was full, he would arise and +take hold of one of the thralls, and set him in his place, and serve him +with meat and drink, and talk with him kindly, so that the poor folk were +much bewildered with joy. And the first that arose from table were the +Sun-beam and Bow-may and Hall-face, with many of the swains and the women +of the Woodlanders; and they went from table to table serving the others. + +The Sun-beam had done off her armour, and went about exceeding fair and +lovely in her kirtle; but Bow-may yet bore her hauberk, for she loved it, +and indeed it was so fine and well-wrought that it was no great burden. +Albeit she had gone down with the Sun-beam and other women to a fair +stream thereby, and there had they bathed and washed themselves; and +Bow-may’s hurts, which were not great, had been looked to and bound up +afresh, and she had come to table unhelmed, with a wreath of wind-flowers +round her head. + +There then they feasted; and their hearts were strengthened by the meat +and drink; and if sorrow were blended with their joy, yet were they +high-hearted through both joy and sorrow, looking forward to the good +days to be in the Dales at the Roots of the Mountains, and the love and +fellowship of Folks and of Houses. + +But as for Face-of-god, he went not to the meadow, but abode sitting on +the bench in the Market-place, where were none else now of the kindreds +save the appointed warders. They had brought him a morsel and a cup of +wine, and he had eaten and drunk; and now he sat there with Dale-warden +lying sheathed across his knees, and seeming to gaze on the thralls of +Silver-dale busied in carrying away the bodies of the slain felons, after +they had stripped them of their raiment and weapons. Yet indeed all this +was before his eyes as a picture which he noted not. Rather he sat +pondering many things; wondering at his being there in Silver-dale in the +hour of victory; longing for the peace of Burgdale and the bride-chamber +of the Sun-beam. Then went his thought out toward his old playmate lying +hurt in Silver-dale; and his heart was grieved because of her, yet not +for long, though his thought still dwelt on her; since he deemed that she +would live and presently be happy—and happy thenceforward for many years. +So pondered Face-of-god in the Market-place of Silver-dale. + + + + +CHAPTER L. FOLK-MIGHT SEETH THE BRIDE AND SPEAKETH WITH HER. + + +NOW tells the tale of Folk-might, that he went his ways from the Hall to +the house where the Bride lay; and the swain who had brought the message +went along with him, and he was proud of walking beside so mighty a +warrior, and he talked to Folk-might as they went; and the sound of his +voice was irksome to the chieftain, but he made as though he hearkened. +Yet when they came to the door of the house, which was just out of the +Place on the Southern road (for thereby had the Bride fallen to earth), +he could withhold his grief no longer, but turned on the threshold and +laid his head on the door-jamb, and sobbed and wept till the tears fell +down like rain. And the boy stood by wondering, and wishing that +Folk-might would forbear weeping, but durst not speak to him. + +In a while Folk-might left weeping and went in, and found a fair hall +sore befouled by the felons, and in the corner on a bed covered with furs +the wounded woman; and at first sight he deemed her not so pale as he +looked to see her, as she lay with her long dark-red hair strewed over +the pillow, her head moving about wearily. A linen cloth was thrown over +her body, but her arms lay out of it before her. Beside her sat the +Alderman, his face sober enough, but not as one in heavy sorrow; and +anigh him was another chair as if someone had but just got up from it. +There was no one else in the hall save two women of the Woodlanders, one +of whom was cooking some potion on the hearth, and another was sweeping +the floor anigh of bran or some such stuff, which had been thrown down to +sop up the blood. + +So Folk-might went up to the Bride, sorely dreading the image of death +which she had grown to be, and sorely loving the woman she was and would +be. + +He knelt down by the bedside, heeding Iron-face little, though he nodded +friendly to him, and he held his face close to hers; but she had her eyes +shut and did not open them till he had been there a little while; and +then they opened and fixed themselves on his without surprise or change. +Then she lifted her right hand (for it was in her left shoulder and side +that she had been hurt) and slowly laid it on his head, and drew his face +to hers and kissed it fondly, as she both smiled and let the tears run +over from her eyes. Then she spake in a weak voice: + +‘Thou seest, chieftain and dear friend, that I may not stand by thy +victorious side to-day. And now, though I were fain if thou wouldst +never leave me, yet needs must thou go about thy work, since thou art +become the Alderman of the Folk of Silver-dale. Yea, and even if thou +wert not to go from me, yet in a manner should I go from thee. For I am +grievously hurt, and I know by myself, and also the leeches have told me, +that the fever is a-coming on me; so that presently I shall not know +thee, but may deem thee to be a woman, or a hound, or the very Wolf that +is the image of the Father of thy kindred; or even, it may be, someone +else—that I have played with time agone.’ + +Her voice faltered and faded out here, and she was silent a while; then +she said: + +‘So depart, kind friend and dear love, bearing this word with thee, that +should I die, I call on Iron-face my kinsman to bear witness that I bid +thee carry me to bale in Silver-dale, and lay mine ashes with the ashes +of thy Fathers, with whom thine own shall mingle at the last, since I +have been of the warriors who have helped to bring thee aback to the land +of thy folk.’ + +Then she smiled and shut her eyes and said: ‘And if I live, as indeed I +hope, and how glad and glad I shall be to live, then shalt thou bring me +to thy house and thy bed, that I may not depart from thee while both our +lives last.’ + +And she opened her eyes and looked at him; and he might not speak for a +while, so ravished as he was betwixt joy and sorrow. But the Alderman +arose and took a gold ring from off his arm, and spake: + +‘This is the gold ring of the God of the Face, and I bear it on mine arm +betwixt the Folk and the God in all man-motes, and I bore it through the +battle to-day; and it is as holy a ring as may be; and since ye are +plighting troth, and I am the witness thereof, it were good that ye held +this ring together and called the God to witness, who is akin to the God +of the Earth, as we all be. Take the ring, Folk-might, for I trust thee; +and of all women now alive would I have this woman happy.’ + +So Folk-might took the ring and thrust his hand through it, and took her +hand, and said: + +‘Ye Fathers, thou God of the Face, thou Earth-god, thou Warrior, bear +witness that my life and my body are plighted to this woman, the Bride of +the House of the Steer!’ + +His face was flushed and bright as he spoke, but as his words ceased he +noted how feebly her hand lay in his, and his face fell, and he gazed on +her timidly. But she lay quiet, and said softly and slowly: + +‘O Fathers of my kindred! O Warrior and God of the Earth! bear witness +that I plight my troth to this man, to lie in his grave if I die, and in +his bed if I live.’ + +And she smiled on him again, and then closed her eyes; but opened them +presently once more, and said: + +‘Dear friend, how fared it with Gold-mane to-day?’ + +Said Folk-might: ‘So well he did, that none might have done better. He +fared in the fight as if he had been our Father the Warrior: he is a +great chieftain.’ + +She said: ‘Wilt thou give him this message from me, that in no wise he +forget the oath which he swore upon the finger-ring as it lay on the +sundial of the Garden of the Face? And say, moreover, that I am sorry +that we shall part, and have between us such breadth of wild-wood and +mountain-neck.’ + +‘Yea, surely will I give thy message,’ said Folk-might; and in his heart +he rejoiced, because he heard her speak as if she were sure of life. +Then she said faintly: + +‘It is now thy work to depart from me, and to do as it behoveth a +chieftain of the people and the Alderman of Silver-dale. Depart, lest +the leeches chide me: farewell, my dear!’ + +So he laid his face to hers and kissed her, and rose up and embraced +Iron-face, and went his ways without looking back. + +But just over the threshold he met old Hall-ward of the House of the +Steer, who was at point to enter, and he greeted him kindly. The old man +looked on him steadily, and said: ‘To-morrow or the day after I will +utter a word to thee, O Chief of the Wolf.’ + +‘In a good hour,’ said Folk-might, ‘for all thy words are true.’ +Therewith he gat him away from the house, and came to Face-of-god, where +he sat before the altar of the Crooked Sword; and now were the chiefs +come back from their meat, and were sitting with him; there also were +Wood-father and Wood-wont; but Bow-may was with the Sun-beam, who was +resting softly in the fair meadow after all the turmoil. + +So men made place for Folk-might beside the War-leader, who looked upon +his face, and saw that it was sober and unsmiling, but not heavy or moody +with grief. So he deemed that all was as well as it might be with the +Bride, and with a good heart fell to taking counsel with the others; and +kindly and friendly were the redes which they held there, with no +gainsaying of man by man, for the whole folk was glad at heart. + +So there they ordered all matters duly for that present time, and by then +they had made an end, it was past sunset, and men were lodged in the +chief houses about the Market-stead. + +Albeit, though they ate their meat with all joy of heart, and were merry +in converse one with the other, the men of the Wolf would by no means +feast in their Hall again till it had been cleansed and hallowed anew. + + + + +CHAPTER LI. THE DEAD BORNE TO BALE: THE MOTE-HOUSE RE-HALLOWED. + + +ON the morrow they bore to bale their slain men, and there withal what +was left of the bodies of the four chieftains of the Great Undoing. They +brought them into a most fair meadow to the west of Silver-stead, where +they had piled up a very great bale for the burning. In that meadow was +the Doom-ring and Thing-stead of the Folk of the Wolf, and they had +hallowed it when they had first conquered Silver-dale, and it was deemed +far holier than the Mote-house aforesaid, wherein the men of the kindred +might hold no due court; but rather it was a Feast-hall, and a house +where men had converse together, and wherein precious things and tokens +of the Fathers were stored up. + +The Thing-stead in the meadow was flowery and well-grassed, and a little +stream winding about thereby nearly cast a ring around it; and beyond the +stream was a full fair grove of oak-trees, very tall and ancient. There +then they burned the dead of the Host, wrapped about in exceeding fair +raiment. And when the ashes were gathered, the men of Burgdale and the +Shepherds left those of their folk for the kindred to bury there in +Silver-dale; for they said that they had a right to claim such guesting +for them that had helped to win back the Dale. + +But when the Burning was done and the bale quenched, and the ashes +gathered and buried (and that was on the morrow), then men bore forth the +Banners of the Jaws of the Wolf, and the Red Hand, and the Silver Arm, +and the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged Sword, and the Wolf of the +Woodland; and with great joy and triumph they brought them into the +Mote-house and hung them up over the daïs; and they kindled fire on the +Holy Hearth by holding up a disk of bright glass to the sun; and then +they sang before the banners. And this is somewhat of the song that they +sang before them: + + Why are ye wending? O whence and whither? + What shineth over the fallow swords? + What is the joy that ye bear in hither? + What is the tale of your blended words? + + No whither we wend, but here have we stayed us, + Here by the ancient Holy Hearth; + Long have the moons and the years delayed us, + But here are we come from the heart of the dearth. + + We are the men of joy belated; + We are the wanderers over the waste; + We are but they that sat and waited, + Watching the empty winds make haste. + + Long, long we sat and knew no others, + Save alien folk and the foes of the road; + Till late and at last we met our brothers, + And needs must we to the old abode. + + For once on a day they prayed for guesting; + And how were we then their bede to do? + Wild was the waste for the people’s resting, + And deep the wealth of the Dale we knew. + + Here were the boards that we must spread them + Down in the fruitful Dale and dear; + Here were the halls where we would bed them: + And how should we tarry otherwhere? + + Over the waste we came together: + There was the tangle athwart the way; + There was the wind-storm and the weather; + The red rain darkened down the day. + + But that day of the days what grief should let us, + When we saw through the clouds the dale-glad sun? + We tore at the tangle that beset us, + And stood at peace when the day was done. + + Hall of the Happy, take our greeting! + Bid thou the Fathers come and see + The Folk-signs on thy walls a-meeting, + And deem to-day what men we be. + + Look on the Holy Hearth new-litten, + How the sparks fly twinkling up aloof! + How the wavering smoke by the sunlight smitten, + Curls up around the beam-rich roof! + + For here once more is the Wolf abiding, + Nor ever more from the Dale shall wend, + And never again his head be hiding, + Till all days be dark and the world have end. + + + + +CHAPTER LII. OF THE NEW BEGINNING OF GOOD DAYS IN SILVER-DALE. + + +ON the third day there was high-tide and great joy amongst all men from +end to end of the Dale; and the delivered thralls were feasted and made +much of by the kindreds, so that they scarce knew how to believe their +own five senses that told them the good tidings. + +For none strove to grieve them and torment them; what they would, that +did they, and they had all things plenteously; since for all was there +enough and to spare of goods stored up for the Dusky Men, as corn and +wine and oil and spices, and raiment and silver. Horses were there also, +and neat and sheep and swine in abundance. Withal there was the good and +dear land; the waxing corn on the acres; the blossoming vines on the +hillside; and about the orchards and alongside the ways, the plum-trees +and cherry-trees and pear-trees that had cast their blossom and were +overhung with little young fruit; and the fair apple-trees a-blossoming, +and the chestnuts spreading their boughs from their twisted trunks over +the green grass. And there was the goodly pasture for the horses and the +neat, and the thymy hill-grass for the sheep; and beyond it all, the +thicket of the great wood, with its unfailing store of goodly timber of +ash and oak and holly and yoke-elm. There need no man lack unless man +compelled him, and all was rich enough and wide enough for the waxing of +a very great folk. + +Now, therefore, men betook them to what was their own before the coming +of the Dusky Men; and though at first many of the delivered thrall-folk +feasted somewhat above measure, and though there were some of them who +were not very brisk at working on the earth for their livelihood; yet +were the most part of them quick of wit and deft of hand, and they mostly +fell to presently at their cunning, both of husbandry and handicraft. +Moreover, they had great love of the kindreds, and especially of the +Woodlanders, and strove to do all things that might pleasure them. And +as for those who were dull and listless because of their many torments of +the last ten years, they would at least fetch and carry willingly for +them of the kindreds; and these last grudged them not meat and raiment +and house-room, even if they wrought but little for it, because they +called to mind the evil days of their thralldom, and bethought them how +few are men’s days upon the earth. + +Thus all things throve in Silver-dale, and the days wore on toward the +summer, and the Yule-tide rest beyond it, and the years beyond and far +beyond the winning of Silver-dale. + + + + +CHAPTER LIII. OF THE WORD WHICH HALL-WARD OF THE STEER HAD FOR +FOLK-MIGHT. + + +BUT of the time then passing, it is to be said that the whole host abode +in Silver-dale in great mirth and good liking, till they should hear +tidings of Dallach and his company, who had followed hot-foot on the +fleers of the Dusky Men. And on the tenth day after the battle, +Iron-face and his two sons and Stone-face were sitting about sunset under +a great oak-tree by that stream-side which ran through the Mote-stead; +there also was Folk-might, somewhat distraught because of his love for +the Bride, who was now mending of her hurts. As they sat there in all +content they saw folk coming toward them, three in number, and as they +drew nigher they saw that it was old Hall-ward of the Steer, and the +Sun-beam and Bow-may following him hand in hand. + +When they came to the brook Bow-may ran up to the elder to help him over +the stepping-stones; which she did as one who loved him, as the old man +was stark enough to have waded the water waist-deep. She was no longer +in her war-gear, but was clad after her wont of Shadowy Vale, in nought +but a white woollen kirtle. So she stood in the stream beside the +stones, and let the swift water ripple up over her ankles, while the +elder leaned on her shoulder and looked down upon her kindly. The +Sun-beam followed after them, stepping daintily from stone to stone, so +that she was a fair sight to see; her face was smiling and happy, and as +she stepped forth on to the green grass the colour flushed up in it, but +she cast her eyes adown as one somewhat shamefaced. + +So the chieftains rose up before the leader of the Steer, and Folk-might +went up to him, and greeted him, and took his hand and kissed him on the +cheek. And Hall-ward said: + +‘Hail to the chiefs of the kindred, and my earthly friends!’ + +Then Folk-might bade him sit down by him, and all the men sat down again; +but the Sun-beam leaned her back against a sapling ash hard by, her feet +set close together; and Bow-may went to and fro in short turns, keeping +well within ear-shot. + +Then said Hall-ward: ‘Folk-might, I have prayed thy kinswoman Bow-may to +lead me to thee, that I might speak with thee; and it is good that I find +my kinsmen of the Face in thy company; for I would say a word to thee +that concerns them somewhat.’ + +Said Folk-might: ‘Guest, and warrior of the Steer, thy words are ever +good; and if this time thou comest to ask aught of me, then shall they be +better than good.’ + +Said Hall-ward: ‘Tell me, Folk-might, hast thou seen my daughter the +Bride to-day?’ + +‘Yea,’ said Folk-might, reddening. + +‘What didst thou deem of her state?’ said Hall-ward. + +Said Folk-might: ‘Thou knowest thyself that the fever hath left her, and +that she is mending.’ + +Hall-ward said: ‘In a few days belike we shall be wending home to +Burgdale: when deemest thou that the Bride may travel, if it were but on +a litter?’ + +Folk-might was silent, and Hall-ward smiled on him and said: + +‘Wouldst thou have her tarry, O chief of the Wolf?’ + +‘So it is,’ said Folk-might, ‘that it might be labour lost for her to +journey to Burgdale at present.’ + +‘Thinkest thou?’ said Hall-ward; ‘hast thou a mind then that if she goeth +she shall speedily come back hither?’ + +‘It has been in my mind,’ said Folk-might, ‘that I should wed her. Wilt +thou gainsay it? I pray thee, Iron-face my friend, and ye Stone-face and +Hall-face, and thou, Face-of-god, my brother, to lay thy words to mine in +this matter.’ + +Then said Hall-ward stroking his beard: ‘There will be a seat missing in +the Hall of the Steer, and a sore lack in the heart of many a man in +Burgdale if the Bride come back to us no more. We looked not to lose the +maiden by her wedding; for it is no long way betwixt the House of the +Steer and the House of the Face. But now, when I arise in the morning +and miss her, I shall take my staff and walk down the street of +Burgstead; for I shall say, The Maiden hath gone to see Iron-face my +friend; she is well in the House of the Face. And then shall I remember +how that the wood and the wastes lie between us. How sayest thou, +Alderman?’ + +‘A sore lack it will be,’ said Iron-face; ‘but all good go with her! +Though whiles shall I go hatless down Burgstead street, and say, Now will +I go fetch my daughter the Bride from the House of the Steer; while many +a day’s journey shall lie betwixt us.’ + +Said Hall-ward: ‘I will not beat about the bush, Folk-might; what gift +wilt thou give us for the maiden?’ + +Said Folk-might: ‘Whatever is mine shall be thine; and whatsoever of the +Dale the kindred and the poor folk begrudge thee not, that shalt thou +have; and deemest thou that they will begrudge thee aught? Is it +enough?’ + +Hall-ward said: ‘I wot not, chieftain; see thou to it! Bow-may, my +friend, bring hither that which I would have from Silver-dale for the +House of the Steer in payment for our maiden.’ + +Then Bow-may came forward speedily, and went up to the Sun-beam, and led +her by the hand in front of Folk-might and Hall-ward and the other +chieftains. Then Folk-might started, and leapt up from the ground; for, +sooth to say, he had been thinking so wholly of the Bride, that his +sister was not in his mind, and he had had no deeming of whither +Hall-ward was coming, though the others guessed well enough, and now +smiled on him merrily, when they saw how wild Folk-might stared. As for +the Sun-beam, she stood there blushing like a rose in June, but looking +her brother straight in the face, as Hall-ward said: + +‘Folk-might, chief of the Wolf, since thou wouldst take our maiden the +Bride away from us, I ask thee to make good her place with this maiden; +so that the House of the Steer may not lack, when they who are wont to +wed therein come to us and pray us for a bedfellow for the best of their +kindred.’ + +Then became Folk-might smiling and merry like unto the others, and he +said: ‘Chief of the Steer, this gift is thine, together with aught else +which thou mayst desire of us.’ + +Then he kissed the Sun-beam, and said: ‘Sister, we looked for this to +befall in some fashion. Yet we deemed that he that should lead thee away +might abide with us for a moon or two. But now let all this be, since if +thou art not to bear children to the kindreds of Silver-dale, yet shalt +thou bear them to their friends and fellows. And now choose what gift +thou wilt have of us to keep us in thy memory.’ + +She said: ‘The memory of my people shall not fade from me; yet indeed I +ask thee for a gift, to wit, Bow-may, and the two sons of Wood-father +that are left since Wood-wicked was slain; and belike the elder and his +wife will be fain to go with their sons, and ye will not hinder them.’ + +‘Even so shall it be done,’ said Folk-might, and he was silent a while, +pondering; and then he said: + +‘Lo you, friends! doth it not seem strange to you that peace sundereth as +well as war? Indeed I deem it grievous that ye shall have to miss your +well-beloved kinswoman. And for me, I am now grown so used to this woman +my sister, though at whiles she hath been masterful with me, that I shall +often turn about and think to speak to her, when there lie long days of +wood and waste betwixt her voice and mine. + +The Sun-beam laughed in his face, though the tears stood in her eyes, as +she said: ‘Keep up thine heart, brother; for at least the way is shorter +betwixt Burgdale and Silver-dale than betwixt life and death; and the +road we shall learn belike.’ + +Said Hall-face: ‘So it is that my brother is no ill woodman, as ye +learned last autumn.’ + +Iron-face smiled, but somewhat sadly; for he beheld Face-of-god, who had +no eyes for anyone save the Sun-beam; and no marvel was that, for never +had she looked fairer. And forsooth the War-leader was not utterly +well-pleased; for he was deeming that there would be delaying of his +wedding, now that the Sun-beam was to become a maid of the Steer; and in +his mind he half deemed that it would be better if he were to take her by +the hand and lead her home through the wild-wood, he and she alone; and +she looked on him shyly, as though she had a deeming of his thought. +Albeit he knew it might not be, that he, the chosen War-leader, should +trouble the peace of the kindred; for he wotted that all this was done +for peace’ sake. + +So Hall-ward stood forth and took the Sun-beam’s right hand in his, and +said: + +‘Now do I take this maiden, Sun-beam of the kindred of the Wolf, and lead +her into the House of the Steer, to be in all ways one of the maidens of +our House, and to wed in the blood wherein we have been wont to wed. +Neither from henceforth let anyone say that this woman is not of the +blood of the Steer; for we have given her our blood, and she is of us +duly and truly.’ + +Thereafter they talked together merrily for a little, and then turned +toward the houses, for the sun was now down; and as they went Iron-face +spake to his son, and said: + +‘Gold-mane, wilt thou verily keep thine oath to wed the fairest woman in +the world? By how much is this one fairer than my dear daughter who +shall no more dwell in mine house?’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Yea, father, I shall keep mine oath; for the Gods, who +know much, know that when I swore last Yule I was thinking of the fair +woman going yonder beside Hall-ward, and of none other.’ + +‘Ah, son!’ said Iron-face, ‘why didst thou beguile us? Hadst thou but +told us the truth then!’ + +‘Yea, Alderman,’ said Face-of-god smiling, ‘and how thou wouldest have +raged against me then, when thou hast scarce forgiven me now! In sooth, +father, I feared to tell you all: I was young; I was one against the +world. Yea, yea; and even that was sweet to me, so sorely as I loved +her—Hast thou forgotten, father?’ + +Iron-face smiled, and answered not; and so came they to the house wherein +they were guested. + + + + +CHAPTER LIV. TIDINGS OF DALLACH: A FOLK-MOTE IN SILVER-DALE. + + +THREE days thereafter came two swift runners from Rose-dale with tidings +of Dallach. In all wise had he thriven, and had slain many of the +runaways, and had come happily to Rose-dale: therein by the mere shaking +of their swords had they all their will; for there were but a few of the +Dusky Warriors in the Dale, since the more part had fared to the +slaughter in Silver-stead. Now therefore had Dallach been made Alderman +of Rose-dale; and the Burgdalers who had gone with him should abide the +coming thither of the rest of the Burgdale Host, and meantime of their +coming should uphold the new Alderman in Rose-dale. Howbeit Dallach sent +word that it was not to be doubted but that many of the Dusky Men had +escaped to the woods, and should yet be the death of many a mother’s son, +unless it were well looked to. + +And now the more part of the Burgdale men and the Shepherds began to look +toward home, albeit some amongst them had not been ill-pleased to abide +there yet a while; for life was exceeding soft to them there, though they +helped the poor folk gladly in their husbandry. For especially the women +of the Dale, of whom many were very goodly, hankered after the fair-faced +tall Burgdalers, and were as kind to them as might be. Forsooth not a +few, both carles and queens, of the old thrall-folk prayed them of +Burgdale to take them home thither, that they might see new things and +forget their old torments once for all, yea, even in dreams. The +Burgdalers would not gainsay them, and there was no one else to hinder; +so that there went with the Burgdale men at their departure hard on five +score of the Silver-dale folk who were not of the kindreds. + +And now was a great Folk-mote holden in Silver-dale, whereto the Burgdale +men and the Shepherds were bidden; and thereat the War-leader gave out +the morrow of the morrow for the day of the departure of the Host. There +also were the matters of Silver-dale duly ordered: the Men of the Wolf +would have had the Woodlanders dwell with them in the fair-builded stead, +and take to them of the goodly stone houses there what they would; but +this they naysaid, choosing rather to dwell in scattered houses, which +they built for themselves at the utmost limit of the tillage. + +Indeed, the most abode not even there a long while; for they loved the +wood and its deeds. So they went forth into the wood, and cleared them +space to dwell in, and builded them halls such as they loved, and fell to +their old woodland crafts of charcoal-burning and hunting, wherein they +throve well. And good for Silver-dale was their abiding there, since +they became a sure defence and stout outpost against all foemen. For the +rest, wheresoever they dwelt, they were guest-cherishing and blithe, and +were well beloved by all people; and they wedded with the other Houses of +the Children of the Wolf. + +As to the other matters whereof they took rede at this Folk-mote, they +had mostly to do with the warding of the Dale, and the learning of the +delivered thralls to handle weapons duly. For men deemed it most like +that they would have to meet other men of the kindred of the Felons; +which indeed fell out as the years wore. + +Moreover, Folk-might (by the rede of Stone-face) sent messengers to the +Plain and the Cities, unto men whom he knew there, doing them to wit of +the tidings of Silver-dale, and how that a peaceful and guest-loving +people, having good store of wares, now dwelt therein, so that chapmen +might have recourse thither. + +Lastly spake Folk-might and said: + +‘Guests and brothers-in-arms, we have been looking about our new house, +which was our old one, and therein we find great store of wares which we +need not, and which we can but use if ye use them. Of your kindness +therefore we pray you to take of those things what ye can easily carry. +And if ye say the way is long, as indeed it is, since ye are bent on +going through the wood to Rose-dale, and so on to Burgdale, yet shall we +furnish you with beasts to bear your goods, and with such wains as may +pass through the woodland ways.’ + +Then rose up Fox of Upton and said: ‘O Folk-might, and ye men of the +Wolf, be it known unto you, that if we have done anything for your help +in the winning of Silver-dale, we have thus done that we might help +ourselves also, so that we might live in peace henceforward, and that we +might have your friendship and fellowship therewithal, so that here in +Silver-dale might wax a mighty folk who joined unto us should be strong +enough to face the whole world. Such are the redes of wise men when they +go a-warring. But we have no will to go back home again made rich with +your wealth; this hath been far from our thought in this matter.’ + +And there went up a murmur from all the Burgdalers yeasaying his word. + +But Folk-might took up the word again and spake: + +‘Men of Burgdale and the Sheepcotes, what ye say is both manly and +friendly; yet, since we look to see a road made plain through the +woodland betwixt Burgdale and Silver-dale, and that often ye shall face +us in the feast-hall, and whiles stand beside us in the fray, we must +needs pray you not to shame us by departing empty-handed; for how then +may we look upon your faces again? Stone-face, my friend, thou art old +and wise; therefore I bid thee to help us herein, and speak for us to thy +kindred, that they naysay us not in this matter.’ + +Then stood up Stone-face and said: ‘Forsooth, friends, Folk-might is in +the right herein; for he may look for anger from the wights that come and +go betwixt his kindred and the Gods, if they see us faring back giftless +through the woods. Moreover, now that ye have seen Silver-dale, ye may +wot how rich a land it is of all good things, and able to bring forth +enough and to spare. And now meseemeth the Gods love this Folk that +shall dwell here; and they shall become a mighty Folk, and a part of our +very selves. Therefore let us take the gifts of our friends, and thank +them blithely. For surely, as saith Folk-might, henceforth the wood +shall become a road betwixt us, and the thicket a halting-place for +friends bearing goodwill in their hands.’ + +When he had spoken, men yeasaid his words and forbore the gifts no +longer; and the Folk-mote sundered in all loving-kindness. + + + + +CHAPTER LV. DEPARTURE FROM SILVER-DALE. + + +ON morrow of the morrow were the Burgdale men and they of the Shepherds +gathered together in the Market-stead early in the morning, and they were +all ready for departure; and the men of the Wolf and the Woodlanders, and +of the delivered thralls a great many, stood round about them grieving +that they must go. There was much talk between the folk of the Dale and +the Guests, and many promises were given and taken to come and go betwixt +the two Dales. There also were the men of the thrall-folk who were to +wend home with the Burgdalers; and they had been stuffed with good things +by the men of the kindreds, and were as fain as might be. + +As for the Sun-beam, she was somewhat out of herself at first, being +eager and restless beyond her wont, and yet at whiles weeping-ripe when +she called to mind that she was now leaving all those things, the gain +whereof had been a dream to her both waking and sleeping for these years +past. But at last, as she stood in the door of the Mote-house, and +beheld all the throng of folk happy and friendly, it came over her that +she herself had done her full share to bring all this about, and that all +those pleasant places of Silver-dale now full of the goodly life of man +would be there even as she had striven for them, and that they would be a +part of her left behind, though she were dwelling otherwhere. + +Therewithal she said to herself that it was now her part to wield the +life of men in Burgdale, and begin once more her days of a chieftain and +a swayer of the Folk, and the life of a stirring woman, which the edge of +the sword and the need of the hard hand-play had taken out of her hands +for a while, making her as a child in the hands of the strong wielders of +the blades. + +So now she became calm once more, and her face was clad again with the +full measure of that majesty of beauty which had once overawed +Face-of-god amidst his love of her; and folk beheld her and marvelled at +her fairness, and said: ‘She hath an inward sorrow at leaving the fair +Dale wherein her Fathers dwelt, and where her mother’s ashes lie in +earth.’ Albeit now was her sorrow but little, and much was her hope, and +her foresight of days to be; though all the Dale, yea, every leaf and +twig of it whereby her feet had ever passed, and each stone of the fair +houses, was to her as a picture that she could look on from henceforth +for ever. + +Of the Bride it is to be said that she was now much mended, and she +caused men bear her on a litter out into the Marketplace, that she might +look on the departure of her folk. She had seen Face-of-god once and +again since the Day of Battle, and each time had been kind and blithe +with him; and for Iron-face, she loved him so well that she was ever loth +to let him depart from her, save when Folk-might was with her. + +And now was the Alderman standing beside her, and she said to him: +‘Friend and kinsman, this is the day of departure, and though I must +needs abide behind, and am content to abide, yet doth mine heart ache +with the sundering; for to-morrow when I wake in the morning there will +be no more sending of a messenger to fetch thee to me. Indeed, great +hath been the love between me and my people, and nought hath come between +us to mar it. Now, kinsman, I would see Gold-mane, my cousin, that I may +bid him farewell; for who knoweth if I shall see him again hereafter?’ + +Then went Iron-face and found Face-of-god where he was speaking with +Folk-might and the chieftains, and said to him: + +‘Come quickly, for thy cousin the Bride would speak with thee.’ + +Face-of-god reddened, and paled afterwards, but he went along with his +father silently; and his heart beat as he came and stood before the +litter whereas the Bride lay, clad all in white and propped up on fair +cushions of red silk. She was frail to look on, and worn and pale yet; +but he deemed that she was very happy. + +She smiled on him, and reached out her hand and said: + +‘Welcome once more, cousin!’ And he held her hand and kissed it, and was +nigh weeping, so sore was he beset by a throng of memories concerning her +and him in the days when they were little; and he bethought him of her +loving-kindness of past days, beyond that of most children, beyond that +of most maidens; and how there was nothing in his life but she had a +share in it, till the day when he found the Hall on the Mountain. + +So he said to her: ‘Kinswoman, is it well with thee?’ + +‘Yea,’ she said, ‘I am now nigh whole of my hurts.’ + +He was silent a while; then he said: + +‘And otherwise art thou merry at heart?’ + +‘Yea, indeed,’ said she; ‘yet thou wilt not find it hard to deem that I +am sorry of the sundering betwixt me and Burgdale.’ + +Again was he silent, and said in a while: ‘Dost thou deem that I wrought +that sundering?’ + +She smiled kindly on him and said: ‘Gold-mane, my playmate, thou art +become a mighty warrior and a great chief; but thou art not so mighty as +that. Many things lay behind the sundering which were neither thou nor +I.’ + +‘Yet,’ said he, ‘it was but such a little time agone that all things +seemed so sure; and we—to both of us was the outlook happy.’ + +‘Let it be happy still,’ she said, ‘now begrudging is gone. Belike the +sundering came because we were so sure, and had no defence against the +wearing of the days; even as it fareth with a folk that hath no foes.’ + +He smiled and said: ‘Even as it hath befallen _thy_ folk, O Bride, a +while ago.’ + +She reddened, and reached her hand to him, and he took it and held it, +and said: ‘Shall I see thee again as the days wear?’ + +Said she: ‘O chieftain of the Folk, thou shalt have much to do in +Burgdale, and the way is long. Yet would I have thee see my children. +Forget not the token on my hand which thou holdest. But now get thee to +thy folk with no more words; for after all, playmate, the sundering is +grievous to me, and I would not spin out the time thereof. Farewell!’ + +He said no more, but stooped down and kissed her lips, and then turned +from her, and took his ways to the head of the Host, and fell to asking +and answering, and bidding and arraying; and in a little time was his +heart dancing with joy to think of the days that lay before him, wherein +now all seemed happy. + +So was all arrayed for departure when it lacked three hours of noon. As +Folk-might had promised, there were certain light wains drawn by bullocks +abiding the departure of the Host, and of sumpter bullocks and horses no +few; and all these were laden with fair gifts of the Dale, as silver, and +raiment, and weapons. There were many things fair-wrought in the time of +the Sorrow, that henceforth should see but little sorrow. Moreover, +there was plenty of provision for the way, both meal and wine, and sheep +and neat; and all things as fair as might be, and well-arrayed. + +It was the Shepherds who were to lead the way; and after them were +arrayed the men of the Vine and the Sickle; then they of the Steer, the +Bridge, and the Bull; and lastly the House of the Face, with old +Stone-face leading them. The Sun-beam was to journey along with the +House of the Steer, which had taken her in as a maiden of their blood; +and though she had so much liefer have fared with the House of the Face, +yet she went meekly as she was bidden, as one who has gotten a great +thing, and will make no stir about a small one. + +Along with her were Wood-father and Wood-mother, and Wood-wise, now whole +of his hurt, and Wood-wont, and Bow-may. Save Bow-may, they were not +very joyous; for they were fain of Silver-dale, and it irked them to +leave it; moreover, they also had liefer have gone along with the House +of the War-leader. + +Last of all went those people of the once thralls of the Dusky Men who +had cast in their lot with the Burgdalers, and they were exceeding merry; +and especially the women of them, they were chattering like the stares in +the autumn evening, when they gather from the fields in the tall +elm-trees before they go to roost. + +Now all the men of the Dale, both of the kindreds and of the thrall-folk, +made way for the Host and its havings, that they might go their ways down +the Dale; albeit the Woodlanders clung close to the line of their ancient +friends, and with them, as men who were sorry for the sundering, were +Wolf-stone and God-swain and Spear-fist. But the chiefs, they drew +around Folk-might a little beside the way. + +Now Red-coat of Waterless, who had been hurt, and was now whole again, +cast his arms about Folk-might and kissed him, and said: + +‘All the way hence to Burgdale will I sow with good wishes for thee and +thine, and especially for my dear friend God-swain of the Silver Arm; and +I would wish and long that they might turn into spells to draw thy feet +to usward; for we love thee well.’ + +In like wise spake other of the Burgdalers; and Folk-might was kind and +blithe with them, and he said: + +‘Friends, forget ye not that the way is no longer from you to us than it +is from us to you. One half of this matter it is for you to deal with.’ + +‘True is that,’ said Red-beard of the Knolls, ‘but look you, Folk-might, +we be but simple husbandmen, and may not often stir from our meadows and +acres; even now I bethink me that May is amidst us, and I am beginning to +be drawn by the thought of the haysel. Whereas thou—’ (and therewith he +reddened) ‘I doubt that thou hast little to do save the work of +chieftains, and we know that such work is but little missed if it be +undone.’ + +Thereat Folk-might laughed; and when the others saw that he laughed, they +laughed also, else had they foreborne for courtesy’s sake. + +But Folk-might answered: ‘Nay, chief of the Sickle, I am not altogether a +chieftain, now we have gotten us peace; and somewhat of a husbandman +shall I be. Moreover, doubt ye not that I shall do my utmost to behold +the fair Dale again; for it is but mountains that meet not.’ + +Now spake Face-of-god to Folk-might, smiling and somewhat softly, and +said: ‘Is all forgiven now, since the day when we first felt each other’s +arms?’ + +‘Yea, all,’ said Folk-might; ‘now hath befallen what I foretold thee in +Shadowy Vale, that thou mightest pay for all that had come and gone, if +thou wouldest but look to it. Indeed thou wert angry with me for that +saying on that eve of Shadowy Vale; but see thou, in those days I was an +older man than thou, and might admonish thee somewhat; but now, though +but few days have gone over thine head, yet many deeds have abided in +thine hand, and thou art much aged. Anger hath left thee, and wisdom +hath waxed in thee. As for me, I may now say this word: May the Folk of +Burgdale love the Folk of Silver-dale as well as I love thee; then shall +all be well.’ + +Then Face-of-god cast his arms about him and kissed him, and turned away +toward Stone-face and Hall-face his brother, where they stood at the head +of the array of the Face; and even therewith came up the Alderman +somewhat sad and sober of countenance, and he pushed by the War-leader +roughly and would not speak with him. + +And now blew up the horns of the Shepherds, and they began to move on +amidst the shouting of the men of Silver-dale; yet were there amongst the +Woodlanders those who wept when they saw their friends verily departing +from them. + +But when they of the foremost of the Host were gotten so far forward that +the men of the Face could begin to move, lo! there was Redesman with his +fiddle amongst the leaders; and he had done a man’s work in the day of +battle, and all looked kindly on him. About him on this morn were some +who had learned the craft of singing well together, and knew his +minstrelsy, and he turned to these and nodded as their array moved on, +and he drew his bow across the strings, and straightway they fell +a-singing, even as it might be thus: + + Back again to the dear Dale where born was the kindred, + Here wend we all living, and liveth our mirth. + Here afoot fares our joyance, whatever men hindred, + Through all wrath of the heavens, all storms of the earth. + + O true, we have left here a part of our treasure, + The ashes of stout ones, the stems of the shield; + But the bold lives they spended have sown us new pleasure, + Fair tales for the telling in fold and on field. + + For as oft as we sing of their edges’ upheaving, + When the yellowing windows shine forth o’er the night, + Their names unforgotten with song interweaving + Shall draw forth dear drops from the depths of delight. + + Or when down by our feet the grey sickles are lying, + And behind us is curling the supper-tide smoke, + No whit shall they grudge us the joyance undying, + Remembrance of men that put from us the yoke. + + When the huddle of ewes from the fells we have driven, + And we see down the Dale the grey reach of the roof, + We shall tell of the gift in the battle-joy given, + All the fierceness of friends that drave sorrow aloof. + + Once then we lamented, and mourned them departed; + Once only, no oftener. Henceforth shall we fling + Their names up aloft, when the merriest hearted + To the Fathers unseen of our life-days we sing. + +Then was there silence in the ranks of men; and many murmured the names +of the fallen as they fared on their way from out the Market-place of +Silver-stead. Then once more Redesman and his mates took up the song: + + Come tell me, O friends, for whom bideth the maiden + Wet-foot from the river-ford down in the Dale? + For whom hath the goodwife the ox-waggon laden + With the babble of children, brown-handed and hale? + + Come tell me for what are the women abiding, + Till each on the other aweary they lean? + Is it loitering of evil that thus they are chiding, + The slow-footed bearers of sorrow unseen? + + Nay, yet were they toiling if sorrow had worn them, + Or hushed had they bided with lips parched and wan. + The birds of the air other tidings have borne them— + How glad through the wood goeth man beside man. + + Then fare forth, O valiant, and loiter no longer + Than the cry of the cuckoo when May is at hand; + Late waxeth the spring-tide, and daylight grows longer, + And nightly the star-street hangs high o’er the land. + + Many lives, many days for the Dale do ye carry; + When the Host breaketh out from the thicket unshorn, + It shall be as the sun that refuseth to tarry + On the crown of all mornings, the Midsummer morn. + +Again the song fell down till they were well on the western way down +Silver-dale; and then Redesman handled his fiddle once more, and again +the song rose up, and such-like were the words which were borne back into +the Market-place of Silver-stead: + + And yet what is this, and why fare ye so slowly, + While our echoing halls of our voices are dumb, + And abideth unlitten the hearth-brand the holy, + And the feet of the kind fare afield till we come? + + For not yet through the wood and its tangle ye wander; + Now skirt we no thicket, no path by the mere; + Far aloof for our feet leads the Dale-road out yonder; + Full fair is the morning, its doings all clear. + + There is nought now our feet on the highway delaying + Save the friend’s loving-kindness, the sundering of speech; + The well-willer’s word that ends words with the saying, + The loth to depart while each looketh on each. + + Fare on then, for nought are ye laden with sorrow; + The love of this land do ye bear with you still. + In two Dales of the earth for to-day and to-morrow + Is waxing the oak-tree of peace and good-will. + +Thus then they departed from Silver-dale, even as men who were a portion +thereof, and had not utterly left it behind. And that night they lay in +the wild-wood not very far from the Dale’s end; for they went softly, +faring amongst so many friends. + + + + +CHAPTER LVI. TALK UPON THE WILD-WOOD WAY. + + +ON the morrow morning when they were on their way again Face-of-god left +his own folk to go with the House of the Steer a while; and amongst them +he fell in with the Sun-beam going along with Bow-may. So they greeted +him kindly, and Face-of-god fell into talk with the Sun-beam as they went +side by side through a great oak-wood, where for a space was plain +green-sward bare of all underwood. + +So in their talk he said to her: ‘What deemest thou, my speech-friend, +concerning our coming back to guest in Silver-dale one day?’ + +‘The way is long,’ she said. + +‘That may hinder us but not stay us,’ said Face-of-god. + +‘That is sooth,’ said the Sun-beam. + +Said Face-of-god: ‘What things shall stay us? Or deemest thou that we +shall never see Silver-dale again?’ + +She smiled: ‘Even so I think thou deemest, Gold-mane. But many things +shall hinder us besides the long road.’ + +Said he: ‘Yea, and what things?’ + +‘Thinkest thou,’ said the Sun-beam, ‘that the winning of Silver-stead is +the last battle which thou shalt see?’ + +‘Nay,’ said he, ‘nay.’ + +‘Shall thy Dale—our Dale—be free from all trouble within itself +henceforward? Is there a wall built round it to keep out for ever storm, +pestilence, and famine, and the waywardness of its own folk?’ + +‘So it is as thou sayest,’ quoth Face-of-god, ‘and to meet such troubles +and overcome them, or to die in strife with them, this is a great part of +a man’s life.’ + +‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and hast thou forgotten that thou art now a great +chieftain, and that the folk shall look to thee to use thee many days in +the year?’ + +He laughed and said: ‘So it is. How many days have gone by since I +wandered in the wood last autumn, that the world should have changed so +much!’ + +‘Many deeds shall now be in thy days,’ she said, ‘and each deed as the +corn of wheat from which cometh many corns; and a man’s days on the earth +are not over many.’ + +‘Then farewell, Silver-dale!’ said he, waving his hand toward the north. +‘War and trouble may bring me back to thee, but it maybe nought else +shall. Farewell!’ + +She looked on him fondly but unsmiling, as he went beside her strong and +warrior-like. Three paces from him went Bow-may, barefoot, in her white +kirtle, but bearing her bow in her hand; a leash of arrows was in her +girdle, her quiver hung at her back, and she was girt with a sword. On +the other side went Wood-wont and Wood-wise, lightly clad but weaponed. +Wood-mother was riding in an ox-wain just behind them, and Wood-father +went beside her bearing an axe. Scattered all about them were the men of +the Steer, gaily clad, bearing weapons, so that the oak-wood was bright +with them, and the glades merry with their talk and singing and laughter, +and before them down the glades went the banner of the Steer, and the +White Beast led them the nearest way to Burgdale. + + + + +CHAPTER LVII. HOW THE HOST CAME HOME AGAIN. + + +IT was fourteen days before they came to Rose-dale; for they had much +baggage with them, and they had no mind to weary themselves, and the wood +was nothing loathsome to them, whereas the weather was fair and bright +for the more part. They fell in with no mishap by the way. But a score +and three of runaways joined themselves to the Host, having watched their +goings and wotting that they were not foemen. Of these, some had heard +of the overthrow of the Dusky Men in Silver-dale, and others not. The +Burgdalers received them all, for it seemed to them no great matter for a +score or so of new-comers to the Dale. + +But when the Host was come to Rose-dale, they found it fair arid lovely; +and there they met with those of their folk who had gone with Dallach. +But Dallach welcomed the kindreds with great joy, and bade them abide; +for he said that they had the less need to hasten, since he had sent +messengers into Burgdale to tell men there of the tidings. Albeit they +were mostly loth to tarry; yet when he lay hard on them not to depart as +men on the morrow of a gild-feast, they abode there three days, and were +as well guested as might be, and on their departure they were laden with +gifts from the wealth of Rose-dale by Dallach and his folk. + +Before they went their ways Dallach spake with Face-of-god and the chiefs +of the Dalesmen, and said: + +‘Ye have given me much from the time when ye found me in the wood a naked +wastrel; yet now I would ask you a gift to lay on the top of all that ye +have given me.’ + +Said Face-of-god: ‘Name the gift, and thou shalt have it; for we deem +thee our friend.’ + +‘I am no less,’ said Dallach, ‘as in time to come I may perchance be able +to show you. But now I am asking you to suffer a score or two of your +men to abide here with me this summer, till I see how this folk new-born +again is like to deal with me. For pleasure and a fair life have become +so strange to them, that they scarce know what to do with them, or how to +live; and unless all is to go awry, I must needs command and forbid; and +though belike they love me, yet they fear me not; so that when my +commandment pleaseth them, they do as I bid, and when it pleaseth them +not, they do contrary to my bidding; for it hath got into their minds +that I shall in no case lift a hand against them, which indeed is the +very sooth. But your folk they fear as warriors of the world, who have +slain the Dusky Men in the Market-place of Silver-stead; and they are of +alien blood to them, men who will do as their friend biddeth (think our +folk) against them who are neither friends or foes. With such help I +shall be well holpen.’ + +In such wise spake Dallach; and Face-of-god and the chiefs said that so +it should be, if men could be found willing to abide in Rose-dale for a +while. And when the matter was put abroad, there was no lack of such men +amongst the younger warriors, who had noted that the dale was fair +amongst dales and its women fairer yet amongst women. + +So two score and ten of the Burgdale men abode in Rose-dale, no one of +whom was of more than twenty and five winters. Forsooth divers of them +set up house in Rose-dale, and never came back to Burgdale, save as +guests. For a half score were wedded in Rose-dale before the year’s +ending; and seven more, who had also taken to them wives of the goodliest +of the Rose-dale women, betook them the next spring to the Burg of the +Runaways, and there built them a stead, and drew a garth about it, and +dug and sowed the banks of the river, which they called Inglebourne. And +as years passed, this same stead throve exceedingly, and men resorted +thither both from Rose-dale and Burgdale; for it was a pleasant place; +and the land, when it was cured, was sweet and good, and the wood +thereabout was full of deer of all kinds. So their stead was called +Inglebourne after the stream; and in latter days it became a very goodly +habitation of men. + +Moreover, some of the once-enthralled folk of Rose-dale, when they knew +that men of their kindred from Silver-dale were going home with the men +of Burgdale to dwell in the Dale, prayed hard to go along with them; for +they looked on the Burgdalers as if they were new Gods of the Earth. The +Burgdale chiefs would not gainsay these men either, but took with them +three score and ten from Rose-dale, men and women, and promised them +dwelling and livelihood in Burgdale. + +So now with good hearts the Host of Burgdale turned their faces toward +their well-beloved Dale; and they made good diligence, so that in three +days’ time they were come anigh the edge of the woodland wilderness. +Thither in the even-tide, as they were making ready for their last supper +and bed in the wood, came three men and two women of their folk, who had +been abiding their coming ever since they had had the tidings of +Silver-dale and the battles from Dallach. Great was the joy of these +messengers as they went from company to company of the warriors, and saw +the familiar faces of their friends, and heard their wonted voices +telling all the story of battle and slaughter. And for their part the +men of the Host feasted these stay-at-homes, and made much of them. But +one of them, a man of the House of the Face, left the Host a little after +nightfall, and bore back to Burgstead at once the tidings of the coming +home of the Host. Albeit since Dallach’s tidings of victory had come to +the Dale, the dwellers in the steads of the country-side had left +Burgstead and gone home to their own houses; so that there was no great +multitude abiding in the Thorp. + +So early on the morrow was the Host astir; but ere they came to +Wildlake’s Way, the Shepherd-folk turned aside westward to go home, after +they had bidden farewell to their friends and fellows of the Dale; for +their souls longed for the sheepcotes in the winding valleys under the +long grey downs; and the garths where the last year’s ricks shouldered up +against the old stone gables, and where the daws were busy in the tall +unfrequent ash-trees; and the green flowery meadows adown along the +bright streams, where the crowfoot and the paigles were blooming now, and +the harebells were in flower about the thorn-bushes at the down’s foot, +whence went the savour of their blossom over sheep-walk and water-meadow. + +So these went their ways with many kind words; and two hours afterwards +all the rest of the Host stood on the level ground of the Portway; but +presently were the ranks of war disordered and broken up by the joy of +the women and children, as they fell to drawing goodman or brother or +lover out of the throng to the way that led speediest to their homesteads +and halls. For the War-leader would not hold the Host together any +longer, but suffered each man to go to his home, deeming that the men of +Burgstead, and chiefly they of the Face and the Steer, would suffice for +a company if any need were, and they would be easily gathered to meet any +hap. + +So now the men of the Middle and Lower Dale made for their houses by the +road and the lanes and the meadows, and the men of the Upper Dale and +Burgstead went their ways along the Portway toward their halls, with the +throng of women and children that had come out to meet them. And now men +came home when it was yet early, and the long day lay before them; and it +was, as it were, made giddy and cumbered with the exceeding joy of +return, and the thought of the day when the fear of death and sundering +had been ever in their hearts. For these new hours were full of the +kissing and embracing of lovers, and the sweetness of renewed delight in +beholding the fair bodies so sorely desired, and hearkening the soft +wheedling of longed-for voices. There were the cups of friends beneath +the chestnut trees, and the talk of the deeds of the fighting-men, and of +the heavy days of the home-abiders; many a tale told oft and o’er again. +There was the singing of old songs and of new, and the beholding the +well-loved nook of the pleasant places, which death might well have made +nought for them; and they were sweet with the fear of that which was +past, and in their pleasantness was fresh promise for the days to come. + +So amid their joyance came evening and nightfall; and though folk were +weary with the fulness of delight, yet now for many their weariness led +them to the chamber of love before the rest of deep night came to them to +make them strong for the happy life to be begun again on the morrow. + +House by house they feasted, and few were the lovers that sat not +together that even. But Face-of-god and the Sun-beam parted at the door +of the House of the Face; for needs must she go with her new folk to the +House of the Steer, and needs must Face-of-god be amongst his own folk in +that hour of high-tide, and sit beside his father beneath the image of +the God with the ray-begirt head. + + + + +CHAPTER LVIII. HOW THE MAIDEN WARD WAS HELD IN BURGDALE. + + +NOW May was well worn when the Host came home to Burgdale; and on the +very morrow of men’s home-coming they began to talk eagerly of the +Midsummer Weddings, and how the Maiden Ward would be the greatest and +fairest of all yet seen, whereas battle and the deliverance from battle +stir up the longing and love both of men and maidens; much also men spake +of the wedding of Face-of-god and the Sun-beam; and needs must their +wedding abide to the time of the Maiden Ward at Midsummer, and needs also +must the Sun-beam go on the Ward with the other Brides of the Folk. So +then must Face-of-god keep his soul in patience till those few days were +over, doing what work came to hand; and he held his head high among the +people, and was well looked to of every man. + +In all matters the Sun-beam helped him, both in doing and in forbearing; +and now so wonderful and rare was her beauty, that folk looked on her +with somewhat of fear, as though she came from the very folk of the Gods. + +Indeed she seemed somewhat changed from what she had been of late; she +was sober of demeanour during these last days of her maidenhood, and sat +amongst the kindred as one communing with herself: of few words she was +and little laughter; but her face clear, not overcast by any gloom or +shaken by passion: soft and kind was she in converse with others, and +sweet were the smiles that came into her face if others’ faces seemed to +crave for them. For it must be said that as some folk eat out their +hearts with fear of the coming evils, even so was she feeding her soul +with the joy of the days to be, whatever trouble might fall upon them, +whereof belike she foreboded some. + +So wore the days toward Midsummer, when the wheat was getting past the +blossoming, and the grass in the mown fields was growing deep green again +after the shearing of the scythe; when the leaves were most and biggest; +when the roses were beginning to fall; when the apples were reddening, +and the skins of the grape-berries gathering bloom. High aloft floated +the light clouds over the Dale; deep blue showed the distant fells below +the ice-mountains; the waters dwindled; all things sought the shadow by +daytime, and the twilight of even and the twilight of dawn were but +sundered by three hours of half-dark night. + +So in the bright forenoon were seventeen brides assembled in the Gate of +Burgstead (but of the rest of the Dale were twenty and three looked for), +and with these was the Sun-beam, her face as calm as the mountain lake +under a summer sunset, while of the others many were restless, and +babbling like April throstles; and not a few talked to her eagerly, and +in their restless love of her dragged her about hither and thither. + +No men were to be seen that morning; for such was the custom, that the +carles either departed to the fields and the acres, or abode within doors +on the morn of the day of the Maiden Ward; but there was a throng of +women about the Gate and down the street of Burgstead, and it may well be +deemed that they kept not silence that hour. + +So fared the Brides of Burgstead to the place of the Maiden Ward on the +causeway, whereto were come already the other brides from steads up and +down the Dale, or were even then close at hand on the way; and among them +were Long-coat and her two fellows, with whom Face-of-god had held +converse on that morning whereon he had followed his fate to the +Mountain. + +There then were they gathered under the cliff-wall of the Portway; and by +the road-side had their grooms built them up bowers of green boughs to +shelter them from the sun’s burning, which were thatched with bulrushes, +and decked with garlands of the fairest flowers of the meadows and the +gardens. + +Forsooth they were a lovely sight to look on, for no fairer women might +be seen in the world; and the eldest of them was scant of five and twenty +winters. Every maiden was clad in as goodly raiment as she might +compass; their sleeves and gown-hems and girdles, yea, their very shoes +and sandals were embroidered so fairly and closely, that as they shifted +in the sun they changed colour like the king-fisher shooting from shadow +to sunshine. According to due custom every maiden bore some weapon. A +few had bows in their hands and quivers at their backs; some had nought +but a sword girt to their sides; some bore slender-shafted spears, so as +not to overburden their shapely hands; but to some it seemed a merry game +to carry long and heavy thrust-spears, or to bear great war-axes over +their shoulders. Most had their flowing hair coifed with bright helms; +some had burdened their arms with shields; some bore steel hauberks over +their linen smocks: almost all had some piece of war-gear on their +bodies; and one, to wit, Steed-linden of the Sickle, a tall and fair +damsel, was so arrayed that no garment could be seen on her but bright +steel war-gear. + +As for the Sun-beam, she was clad in a white kirtle embroidered from +throat to hem with work of green boughs and flowers of the goodliest +fashion, and a garland of roses on her head. Dale-warden himself was +girt to her side by a girdle fair-wrought of golden wire, and she bore no +other weapon or war-gear; and she let him lie quiet in his scabbard, nor +touched the hilts once; whereas some of the other damsels would be ever +drawing their swords out and thrusting them back. But all noted that +goodly weapon, the yoke-fellow of so many great deeds. + +There then on the Portway, between the water and the rock-wall, rose up +plenteous and gleeful talk of clear voices shrill and soft; and whiles +the maidens sang, and whiles they told tales of old days, and whiles they +joined hands and danced together on the sweet summer dust of the highway. +Then they mostly grew aweary, and sat down on the banks of the road or +under their leafy bowers. + +Noon came, and therewithal goodwives of the neighbouring Dale, who +brought them meat and drink, and fruit and fresh flowers from the teeming +gardens; and thereafter for a while they nursed their joy in their +bosoms, and spake but little and softly while the day was at its hottest +in the early afternoon. + +Then came out of Burgstead men making semblance of chapmen with a wain +bearing wares, and they made as though they were wending down the Portway +westward to go out of the Dale. Then arose the weaponed maidens and +barred the way to them, and turned them back amidst fresh-springing +merriment. + +Again in a while, when the sun was westering and the shadows growing +long, came herdsmen from down the Dale driving neat, and making as though +they would pass by into Burgstead, but to them also did the maidens +gainsay the road, so that needs must they turn back amidst laughter and +mockery, they themselves also laughing and mocking. + +And so at last, when the maidens had been all alone a while, and it was +now hard on sunset, they drew together and stood in a ring, and fell to +singing; and one Gold-may of the House of the Bridge, a most sweet +singer, stood amidst their ring and led them. And this is somewhat of +the meaning of their words: + + The sun will not tarry; now changeth the light, + Fail the colours that marry the Day to the Night. + + Amid the sun’s burning bright weapons we bore, + For this eve of our earning comes once and no more. + + For to-day hath no brother in yesterday’s tide, + And to-morrow no other alike it doth hide. + + This day is the token of oath and behest + That ne’er shall be broken through ill days and best. + + Here the troth hath been given, the oath hath been done, + To the Folk that hath thriven well under the sun. + + And the gifts of its giving our troth-day shall win + Are the Dale for our living and dear days therein. + + O Sun, now thou wanest! yet come back and see + Amidst all that thou gainest how gainful are we. + + O witness of sorrow wide over the earth, + Rise up on the morrow to look on our mirth! + + Thy blooms art thou bringing back ever for men, + And thy birds are a-singing each summer again. + + But to men little-hearted what winter is worse + Than thy summers departed that bore them the curse? + + And e’en such art thou knowing where thriveth the year, + And good is all growing save thralldom and fear. + + Nought such be our lovers’ hearts drawing anigh, + While yet thy light hovers aloft in the sky. + + Lo the seeker, the finder of Death in the Blade! + What lips shall be kinder on lips of mine laid? + + La he that hath driven back tribes of the South! + Sweet-breathed is thine even, but sweeter his mouth. + + Come back from the sea then, O sun! come aback, + Look adown, look on me then, and ask what I lack! + + Come many a morrow to gaze on the Dale, + And if e’er thou seest sorrow remember its tale! + + For ’twill be of a story to tell how men died + In the garnering of glory that no man may hide. + + O sun sinking under! O fragrance of earth! + O heart! O the wonder whence longing has birth! + +So they sang, and the sun sank indeed; and amidst their singing the eve +was still about them, though there came a happy murmur from the face of +the meadows and the houses of the Thorp aloof. But as their song fell +they heard the sound of footsteps a many on the road; so they turned and +stood with beating hearts in such order as when a band of the valiant +draw together to meet many foes coming on them from all sides, and they +stand back to back to face all comers. And even therewith, their raiment +gleaming amidst the gathering dusk, came on them the young men of the +Dale newly delivered from the grief of war. + +Then in very deed the fierce mouths of the raisers of the war-shout were +kind on the faces of tender maidens. Then went spear and axe and helm +and shield clattering to the earth, as the arms of the new-comers went +round about the bodies of the Brides, weary with the long day of +sunshine, and glee and loving speech, and the maidens suffered the young +men to lead them whither they would, and twilight began to draw round +about them as the Maiden Band was sundered. + +Some, they were led away westward down the Portway to the homesteads +thereabout; and for divers of these the way was long to their halls, and +they would have to wend over long stretches of dewy meadows, and hear the +night-wind whisper in many a tree, and see the east begin to lighten with +the dawn before they came to the lighted feast that awaited them. But +some turned up the Portway straight towards Burgstead; and short was +their road to the halls where even now the lights were being kindled for +their greeting. + +As for the Sun-beam, she had been very quiet the day long, speaking as +little as she might do, laughing not at all, and smiling for kindness’ +sake rather than for merriment; and when the grooms came seeking their +maidens, she withdrew herself from the band, and stood alone amidst the +road nigher to Burgstead than they; and her heart beat hard, and her +breath came short and quick, as though fear had caught her in its grip; +and indeed for one moment of time she feared that he was not coming to +her. For he had gone with the other grooms to that gathered band, and +had passed from one to the other, not finding her, till he had got him +through the whole company, and beheld her awaiting him. Then indeed he +bounded toward her, and caught her by the hands, and then by the +shoulders, and drew her to him, and she nothing loth; and in that while +he said to her: + +‘Come then, my friend; lo thou! they go each their own way toward the +halls of their houses; and for thee have I chosen a way—a way over the +foot-bridge yonder, and over the dewy meadows on this best even of the +year.’ + +‘Nay, nay,’ she said, ‘it may not be. Surely the Burgstead grooms look +to thee to lead them to the gate; and surely in the House of the Face +they look to see thee before any other. Nay, Gold-mane, my dear, we must +needs go by the Portway.’ + +He said: ‘We shall be home but a very little while after the first, for +the way I tell of is as short as the Portway. But hearken, my sweet! +When we are in the meadows we shall sit down for a minute on a bank under +the chestnut trees, and thence watch the moon coming up over the southern +cliffs. And I shall behold thee in the summer night, and deem that I see +all thy beauty; which yet shall make me dumb with wonder when I see it +indeed in the house amongst the candles.’ + +‘O nay,’ she said, ‘by the Portway shall we go; the torch-bearers shall +be abiding thee at the gate.’ + +Spake Face-of-god: ‘Then shall we rise up and wend first through a wide +treeless meadow, wherein amidst the night we shall behold the kine moving +about like odorous shadows; and through the greyness of the moonlight +thou shalt deem that thou seest the pink colour of the eglantine +blossoms, so fragrant they are.’ + +‘O nay,’ she said, ‘but it is meet that we go by the Portway.’ + +But he said: ‘Then from the wide meadow come we into a close of corn, and +then into an orchard-close beyond it. There in the ancient walnut-tree +the owl sitteth breathing hard in the night-time; but thou shalt not hear +him for the joy of the nightingales singing from the apple-trees of the +close. Then from out of the shadowed orchard shall we come into the open +town-meadow, and over its daisies shall the moonlight be lying in a grey +flood of brightness. + +‘Short is the way across it to the brim of the Weltering Water, and +across the water lieth the fair garden of the Face; and I have dight for +thee there a little boat to waft us across the night-dark waters, that +shall be like wavering flames of white fire where the moon smites them, +and like the void of all things where the shadows hang over them. There +then shall we be in the garden, beholding how the hall-windows are +yellow, and hearkening the sound of the hall-glee borne across the +flowers and blending with the voice of the nightingales in the trees. +There then shall we go along the grass paths whereby the pinks and the +cloves and the lavender are sending forth their fragrance, to cheer us, +who faint at the scent of the over-worn roses, and the honey-sweetness of +the lilies. + +‘All this is for thee, and for nought but for thee this even; and many a +blossom whereof thou knowest nought shall grieve if thy foot tread not +thereby to-night; if the path of thy wedding which I have made, be void +of thee, on the even of the Chamber of Love. + +‘But lo! at last at the garden’s end is the yew-walk arched over for +thee, and thou canst not see whereby to enter it; but I, I know it, and I +lead thee into and along the dark tunnel through the moonlight, and thine +hand is not weary of mine as we go. But at the end shall we come to a +wicket, which shall bring us out by the gable-end of the Hall of the +Face. Turn we about its corner then, and there are we blinking on the +torches of the torch-bearers, and the candles through the open door, and +the hall ablaze with light and full of joyous clamour, like the bale-fire +in the dark night kindled on a ness above the sea by fisher-folk +remembering the Gods.’ + +‘O nay,’ she said, ‘but by the Portway must we go; the straightest way to +the Gate of Burgstead.’ + +In vain she spake, and knew not what she said; for even as he was +speaking he led her away, and her feet went as her will went, rather than +her words; and even as she said that last word she set her foot on the +first board of the foot-bridge; and she turned aback one moment, and saw +the long line of the rock-wall yet glowing with the last of the sunset of +midsummer, while as she turned again, lo! before her the moon just +beginning to lift himself above the edge of the southern cliffs, and +betwixt her and him all Burgdale, and Face-of-god moreover. + +Thus then they crossed the bridge into the green meadows, and through the +closes and into the garden of the Face and unto the Hall-door; and other +brides and grooms were there before them (for six grooms had brought home +brides to the House of the Face); but none deemed it amiss in the +War-leader of the folk and the love that had led him. And old Stone-face +said: ‘Too many are the rows of bee-skeps in the gardens of the Dale that +we should begrudge wayward lovers an hour’s waste of candle-light.’ + +So at last those twain went up the sun-bright Hall hand in hand in all +their loveliness, and up on to the daïs, and stood together by the middle +seat; and the tumult of the joy of the kindred was hushed for a while as +they saw that there was speech in the mouth of the War-leader. + +Then he spread his hands abroad before them all and cried out: ‘How then +have I kept mine oath, whereas I swore on the Holy Boar to wed the +fairest woman of the world?’ + +A mighty shout went rattling about the timbers of the roof in answer to +his word; and they that looked up to the gable of the Hall said that they +saw the ray-ringed image of the God smile with joy over the gathered +folk. + +But spake Iron-face unheard amidst the clamour of the Hall: ‘How fares it +now with my darling and my daughter, who dwelleth amongst strangers in +the land beyond the wild-wood?’ + + + + +CHAPTER LIX. THE BEHEST OF FACE-OF-GOD TO THE BRIDE ACCOMPLISHED: A +MOTE-STEAD APPOINTED FOR THE THREE FOLKS, TO WIT, THE MEN OF BURGDALE, +THE SHEPHERDS, AND THE CHILDREN OF THE WOLF. + + +THREE years and two months thereafter, three hours after noon in the days +of early autumn, came a wain tilted over with precious webs of cloth, and +drawn by eight white oxen, into the Market-place of Silver-stead: two +score and ten of spearmen of the tallest, clad in goodly war-gear, went +beside it, and much people of Silver-dale thronged about them. The wain +stayed at the foot of the stair that led up to the door of the +Mote-house, and there lighted down therefrom a woman goodly of fashion, +with wide grey eyes, and face and hands brown with the sun’s burning. +She had a helm on her head and a sword girt to her side, and in her arms +she bore a yearling child. + +And there was come Bow-may with the second man-child born to Face-of-god. + +She stayed not amidst the wondering folk, but hastened up the stair, +which she had once seen running with the blood of men: the door was open, +and she went in and walked straight-way, with the babe in her arms, up +the great Hall to the daïs. + +There were men on the daïs: amidmost sat Folk-might, little changed since +the last day she had seen him, yet fairer, she deemed, than of old time; +and her heart went forth to meet the Chieftain of her Folk, and the glad +tears started in her eyes and ran down her cheeks as she drew near to +him. + +By his side sat the Bride, and her also Bow-may deemed to have waxed +goodlier. Both she and Folk-might knew Bow-may ere she had gone half the +length of the hall; and the Bride rose up in her place and cried out +Bow-may’s name joyously. + +With these were sitting the elders of the Wolf and the Woodlanders, the +more part of whom Bow-may knew well. + +On the daïs also stood aside a score of men weaponed, and looking as if +they were awaiting the word which should send them forth on some errand. + +Now stood up Folk-might and said: ‘Fair greeting and love to my friend +and the daughter of my Folk! How farest thou, Bow-may, best of all +friendly women? How fareth my sister, and Face-of-god my brother? and +how is it with our friends and helpers in the goodly Dale?’ + +Said Bow-may: ‘It is well both with all those and with me; and my heart +laughs to see thee, Folk-might, and to look on the elders of the valiant, +and our lovely sister the Bride. But I have a message for thee from +Face-of-god: wilt thou that I deliver it here?’ + +‘Yea surely,’ said Folk-might, and came forth and took her hand, and +kissed her cheeks and her mouth. The Bride also came forth and cast her +arms about her, and kissed her; and they led her between them to a seat +on the daïs beside Folk-might. + +But all men looked on the child in her arms and wondered what it was. +But Bow-may took the babe, which was both fair and great, and set it on +the knees of the Bride, and said: + +‘Thus saith Face-of-god: “Friend and kinswoman, well-beloved playmate, +the gift which thou badest of me in sorrow do thou now take in joy, and +do all the good thou wouldest to the son of thy friend. The ring which I +gave thee once in the garden of the Face, give thou to Bow-may, my trusty +and well-beloved, in token of the fulfilment of my behest.”’ + +Then the Bride kissed Bow-may again, and fell to fondling of the child, +which was loth to leave Bow-may. + +But she spake again: ‘To thee also, Folk-might, I have a message from +Face-of-god, who saith: “Mighty warrior, friend and fellow, all things +thrive with us, and we are happy. Yet is there a hollow place in our +hearts which grieveth us, and only thou and thine may amend it. Though +whiles we hear tell of thee, yet we see thee not, and fain were we, might +we see thee, and wot if the said tales be true. Wilt thou help us +somewhat herein, or wilt thou leave us all the labour? For sure we be +that thou wilt not say that thou rememberest us no more, and that thy +love for us is departed.” This is his message, Folk-might, and he would +have an answer from thee.’ + +Then laughed Folk-might and said: ‘Sister Bow-may, seest thou these +weaponed men hereby?’ + +‘Yea,’ she said. + +Said he: ‘These men bear a message with them to Face-of-god my brother. +Crow the Shaft-speeder, stand forth and tell thy friend Bow-may the +message I have set in thy mouth, every word of it.’ + +Then Crow stood forth and greeted Bow-may friendly, and said: ‘Friend +Bow-may, this is the message of our Alderman: “Friend and helper, in the +Dale which thou hast given to us do all things thrive; neither are we +grown old in three years’ wearing, nor are our memories worsened. We +long sore to see you and give you guesting in Silver-dale, and one day +that shall befall. Meanwhile, know this: that we of the Wolf and the +Woodland, mindful of the earth that bore us, and the pit whence we were +digged, have a mind to go see Shadowy Vale once in every three years, and +there to hold high-tide in the ancient Hall of the Wolf, and sit in the +Doom-ring of our Fathers. But since ye have joined yourselves to us in +battle, and have given us this Dale, our health and wealth, without price +and without reward, we deem you our very brethren, and small shall be our +hall-glee, and barren shall our Doom-ring seem to us, unless ye sit there +beside us. Come then, that we may rejoice each other by the sight of +face and sound of voice; that we may speak together of matters that +concern our welfare; so that we three Kindreds may become one Folk. And +if this seem good to you, know that we shall be in Shadowy Vale in a +half-month’s wearing. Grieve us not by forbearing to come.” Lo, +Bow-may, this is the message, and I have learned it well, for well it +pleaseth me to bear it.’ + +Then said Folk-might: ‘What say’st thou to the message, Bow-may?’ + +‘It is good in all ways,’ said she, ‘but is it timely? May our folk have +the message and get to Shadowy Vale, so as to meet you there?’ + +‘Yea surely,’ said Folk-might, ‘for our kinsmen here shall take the road +through Shadowy Vale, and in four days’ time they shall be in Burgdale, +and as thou wottest, it is scant a two days’ journey thence to Shadowy +Vale.’ + +Therewith he turned to those men again, and said: ‘Kinsman Crow, depart +now, and use all diligence with thy message.’ + +So the messengers began to stir; but Bow-may cried out: ‘Ho! Folk-might, +my friend, I perceive thou art little changed from the man I knew in +Shadowy Vale, who would have his dinner before the fowl were plucked. +For shall I not go back with these thy messengers, so that I also may get +all ready to wend to the Mote-house of Shadowy Vale?’ + +But the Bride looked kindly on her, and laughed and said: ‘Sister +Bow-may, his meaning is that thou shouldest abide here in Silver-dale +till we depart for the Folk-thing, and then go thither with us; and this +I also pray thee to do, that thou mayst rejoice the hearts of thine old +friends; and also that thou mayst teach me all that I should know +concerning this fair child of my brother and my sister.’ + +And she looked on her so kindly as she caressed the babe, that Bow-may’s +heart melted, and she cried out: + +‘Would that I might never depart from the house wherein thou dwellest, O +Bride of my Kinsman! And this that thou biddest me is easy and pleasant +for me to do. But afterwards I must get me back to Burgdale; for I seem +to have left much there that calleth for me.’ + +‘Yea,’ said Folk-might, ‘and art thou wedded, Bow-may? Shalt thou never +bend the yew in battle again?’ + +Said Bow-may soberly: ‘Who knoweth, chieftain? Yea, I am wedded now +these two years; and nought I looked for less when I followed those twain +through the wild-wood to Burgdale.’ + +She sighed therewith, and said: ‘In all the Dale there is no better man +of his hands than my man, nor any goodlier to look on, and he is even +that Hart of Highcliff whom thou knowest well, O Bride!’ + +Said the Bride: ‘Thou sayest sooth, there is no better man in the Dale.’ + +Said Bow-may: ‘Sun-beam bade me wed him when he pressed hard upon me.’ +She stayed awhile, and then said: ‘Face-of-god also deemed I should not +naysay the man; and now my son by him is of like age to this little one.’ + +‘Good is thy story,’ said Folk-might; ‘or deemest thou, Bow-may, that +such strong and goodly women as thou, and women so kind and friendly, +should forbear the wedding and the bringing forth of children? Yea, and +we who may even yet have to gather to another field before we die, and +fight for life and the goods of life.’ + +‘Thou sayest well,’ she said; ‘all that hath befallen me is good since +the day whereon I loosed shaft from the break of the bent over yonder.’ + +Therewith she fell a-musing, and made as though she were hearkening to +the soft voice of the Bride caressing the new-come baby; but in sooth +neither heard nor saw what was going on about her, for her thoughts were +in bygone days. Howbeit presently she came to herself again, and fell to +asking many questions concerning Silver-dale and the kindred, and those +who had once been thralls of the Dusky Men; and they answered all duly, +and told her the whole story of the Dale since the Day of the Victory. + +So Bow-may and the carles who had come with her abode for that half-month +in Silver-dale, guested in all love by the folk thereof, both the +kindreds and the poor folk. And Bow-may deemed that the Bride loved +Face-of-god’s child little less than her own, whereof she had two, a man +and a woman; and thereat was she full of joy, since she knew that +Face-of-god and the Sun-beam would be fain thereof. + +Thereafter, when the time was come, fared Folk-might and the Bride, and +many of the elders and warriors of the Wolf and the Woodland, to Shadowy +Vale; and Dallach and the best of Rose-dale went with them, being so +bidden; and Bow-may and her following, according to the word of the +Bride. And in Shadowy Vale they met Face-of-god and Alderman Iron-face, +and the chiefs of Burgdale and the Shepherds, and many others; and great +joy there was at the meeting. And the Sun-beam remembered the word which +she spoke to Face-of-god when first he came to Shadowy Vale, that she +would be wishful to see again the dwelling wherein she had passed through +so much joy and sorrow of her younger days. But if anyone were fain of +this meeting, the Alderman was glad above all, when he took the Bride +once more in his arms, and caressed her whom he had deemed should be a +very daughter of his House. + +Now telleth the tale of all these kindreds, to wit, the Men of Burgdale +and the Sheepcotes; and the Children of the Wolf, and the Woodlanders, +and the Men of Rose-dale, that they were friends henceforth, and became +as one Folk, for better or worse, in peace and in war, in waning and +waxing; and that whatsoever befell them, they ever held Shadowy Vale a +holy place, and for long and long after they met there in mid-autumn, and +held converse and counsel together. + +NO MORE AS NOW TELLETH THE TALE OF THESE KINDREDS AND FOLKS, BUT MAKETH +AN ENDING. + + * * * * * + + CHISWICK PRESS:—C. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Roots of the Mountains + + +Author: William Morris + + + +Release Date: July 29, 2014 [eBook #6050] +[This file was first posted on October 24, 2002] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROOTS OF THE MOUNTAINS*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1896 Longmans, Green, and Co. edition by +David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<h1>THE ROOTS OF THE MOUNTAINS<br /> +WHEREIN IS TOLD SOMEWHAT OF<br /> +THE LIVES OF THE MEN OF BURG-<br /> +DALE THEIR FRIENDS THEIR<br /> +NEIGHBOURS THEIR FOEMEN AND<br /> +THEIR FELLOWS IN ARMS</h1> +<p style="text-align: center">BY WILLIAM MORRIS</p> +<p class="poetry">Whiles carried o’er the iron road,<br /> +We hurry by some fair abode;<br /> +The garden bright amidst the hay,<br /> +The yellow wain upon the way,<br /> +The dining men, the wind that sweeps<br /> +Light locks from off the sun-sweet heaps—<br /> +The gable grey, the hoary roof,<br /> +Here now—and now so far aloof.<br /> +How sorely then we long to stay<br /> +And midst its sweetness wear the day,<br /> +And ’neath its changing shadows sit,<br /> +And feel ourselves a part of it.<br /> +Such rest, such stay, I strove to win<br /> +With these same leaves that lie herein.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">LONDON, NEW YORK, AND BOMBAY</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">MDCCCXCVI</span></p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>First Edition printed +November</i>, 1889.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">250 <i>copies were printed on Large +Paper</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Second Edition</i>, +<i>February</i>, 1893.</p> +<h2><i>CONTENTS</i>.</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"> </p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>Page</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>Chapter I</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Of Burgstead and its Folk and its Neighbours</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page1">1</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>II</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Of Face-of-god and his Kindred</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page12">12</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>III</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>They talk of divers matters in the Hall</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page18">18</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>IV</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Face-of-god fareth to the Wood again</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page25">25</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>V</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Face-of-god falls in with Menfolk on the +Mountain</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page34">34</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>VI</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Of Face-of-god and those Mountain-dwellers</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page39">39</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>VII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Face-of-god talketh with the Friend on the +Mountain</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page50">50</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>VIII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Face-of-god cometh home again to Burgstead</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page57">57</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>IX</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Those Brethren fare to the Yew-wood with the +Bride</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page59">59</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>X</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>New Tidings in the Dale</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page63">63</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XI</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Men make Oath at Burgstead on the Holy Boar</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page69">69</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Stone-face telleth concerning the Wood-wights</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page74">74</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XIII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>They fare to the hunting of the elk</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page78">78</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XIV</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Concerning Face-of-god and the Mountain</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page82">82</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XV</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Murder amongst the Folk of the Woodlanders</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page87">87</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XVI</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>The Bride speaketh with Face-of-god</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page93">93</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XVII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>The Token cometh from the Mountain</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page97">97</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XVIII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Face-of-god talketh with the Friend in Shadowy +Vale</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page105">105</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XIX</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>The fair Woman telleth Face-of-god of her +Kindred</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page109">109</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XX</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Those two together hold the Ring of the +Earth-god</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page124">124</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXI</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Face-of-god looketh on the Dusky Men</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page141">141</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Face-of-god cometh home to Burgstead</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page151">151</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXIII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Talk in the Hall of the House of the Face</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page162">162</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXIV</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Face-of-god giveth that Token to the Bride</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page165">165</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXV</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Of the Gate-thing at Burgstead</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page170">170</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXVI</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>The Ending of the Gate-thing</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page183">183</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXVII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Face-of-god leadeth a Band through the Wood</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page191">191</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXVIII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>The Men of Burgdale meet the Runaways</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page202">202</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXIX</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>They bring the Runaways to Burgstead</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page216">216</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXX</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Hall-face goeth toward Rose-dale</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page225">225</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXXI</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Of the Weapon-show of the Men of Burgdale and their +Neighbours</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page231">231</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXXII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>The Men of Shadowy Vale come to the Spring Market at +Burgstead</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page239">239</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXXIII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>The Alderman gives Gifts to them of Shadowy +Vale</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page251">251</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXXIV</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>The Chieftains take counsel in the Hall of the +Face</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page255">255</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXXV</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Face-of-god talketh with the Sun-beam</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page268">268</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXXVI</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Folk-might speaketh with the Bride</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page275">275</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXXVII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Of the Folk-mote of the Dalesmen</i>, <i>the +Shepherd-Folk</i>, <i>and the Woodland Carles</i>: <i>the Banner +of the Wolf displayed</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page282">282</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXXVIII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Of the Great Folk-mote</i>: <i>Atonements given</i>, +<i>and Men made sackless</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page287">287</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XXXIX</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Of the Great Folk-mote</i>: <i>Men take rede of the +War-faring</i>, <i>the Fellowship</i>, <i>and the +War-leader</i>. <i>Folk-might telleth whence his People +came</i>. <i>The Folk-mote sundered</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page292">292</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XL</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Of the Hosting in Shadowy Vale</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page301">301</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XLI</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>The Host departeth from Shadowy Vale</i>: <i>the first +Day’s journey</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page311">311</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XLII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>The Host cometh to the edges of Silver-dale</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page318">318</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XLIII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Face-of-god looketh on Silver-dale</i>: <i>the +Bowmen’s battle</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page322">322</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XLIV</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Of the Onslaught of the Men of the Steer</i>, <i>the +Bridge</i>, <i>and the Bull</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page335">335</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XLV</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Of Face-of-god’s Onslaught</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page343">343</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XLVI</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Men meet in the Market of Silver-stead</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page352">352</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XLVII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>The Kindreds win the Mote-house</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page363">363</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XLVIII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Men sing in the Mote-house</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page367">367</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>XLIX</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Dallach fareth to Rose-dale</i>: <i>Crow telleth of his +Errand</i>: <i>the Kindreds eat their meat in Silver-dale</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page372">372</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>L</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Folk-might seeth the Bride and speaketh with +her</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page378">378</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>LI</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>The Dead borne to bale</i>: <i>the Mote-house +re-hallowed</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page382">382</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>LII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Of the new Beginning of good Days in +Silver-dale</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page384">384</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>LIII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Of the Word which Hall-ward of the Steer had for +Folk-might</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page386">386</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>LIV</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Tidings of Dallach</i>: <i>a Folk-mote in +Silver-dale</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page391">391</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>LV</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Departure from Silver-dale</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page394">394</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>LVI</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Talk upon the Wild-wood Way</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page403">403</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>LVII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>How the Host came home again</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page404">404</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>LVIII</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>How the Maiden Ward was held in Burgdale</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page409">409</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>LIX</i>.</p> +</td> +<td><p><i>The Behest of Face-of-god to the Bride +accomplished</i>: <i>a Mote-stead appointed for the three +Folks</i>, <i>to wit</i>, <i>the Men of Burgdale</i>, <i>the +Shepherds</i>, <i>and the Children of the Wolf</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page418">418</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 1</span>CHAPTER +I. OF BURGSTEAD AND ITS FOLK AND ITS NEIGHBOURS.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Once</span> upon a time amidst the +mountains and hills and falling streams of a fair land there was +a town or thorp in a certain valley. This was well-nigh +encompassed by a wall of sheer cliffs; toward the East and the +great mountains they drew together till they went near to meet, +and left but a narrow path on either side of a stony stream that +came rattling down into the Dale: toward the river at that end +the hills lowered somewhat, though they still ended in sheer +rocks; but up from it, and more especially on the north side, +they swelled into great shoulders of land, then dipped a little, +and rose again into the sides of huge fells clad with pine-woods, +and cleft here and there by deep ghylls: thence again they rose +higher and steeper, and ever higher till they drew dark and naked +out of the woods to meet the snow-fields and ice-rivers of the +high mountains. But that was far away from the pass by the +little river into the valley; and the said river was no drain +from the snow-fields white and thick with the grinding of the +ice, but clear and bright were its waters that came from wells +amidst the bare rocky heaths.</p> +<p>The upper end of the valley, where it first began to open out +from the pass, was rugged and broken by rocks and ridges of +water-borne stones, but presently it smoothed itself into mere +grassy swellings and knolls, and at last into a fair and fertile +plain swelling up into a green wave, as it were, against the +rock-wall which encompassed it on all sides save where the river +came gushing out of the strait pass at the east end, and where at +the west end it poured itself out of the Dale toward the lowlands +and the plain of the great river.</p> +<p>Now the valley was some ten miles of our measure from that +place of the rocks and the stone-ridges, to where the faces of +the hills drew somewhat anigh to the river again at the west, and +<a name="page2"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 2</span>then fell +aback along the edge of the great plain; like as when ye fare +a-sailing past two nesses of a river-mouth, and the main-sea +lieth open before you.</p> +<p>Besides the river afore-mentioned, which men called the +Weltering Water, there were other waters in the Dale. Near +the eastern pass, entangled in the rocky ground was a deep tarn +full of cold springs and about two acres in measure, and +therefrom ran a stream which fell into the Weltering Water amidst +the grassy knolls. Black seemed the waters of that tarn +which on one side washed the rocks-wall of the Dale; ugly and +aweful it seemed to men, and none knew what lay beneath its +waters save black mis-shapen trouts that few cared to bring to +net or angle: and it was called the Death-Tarn.</p> +<p>Other waters yet there were: here and there from the hills on +both sides, but especially from the south side, came trickles of +water that ran in pretty brooks down to the river; and some of +these sprang bubbling up amidst the foot-mounds of the +sheer-rocks; some had cleft a rugged and strait way through them, +and came tumbling down into the Dale at diverse heights from +their faces. But on the north side about halfway down the +Dale, one stream somewhat bigger than the others, and dealing +with softer ground, had cleft for itself a wider way; and the +folk had laboured this way wider yet, till they had made them a +road running north along the west side of the stream. Sooth +to say, except for the strait pass along the river at the eastern +end, and the wider pass at the western, they had no other way +(save one of which a word anon) out of the Dale but such as +mountain goats and bold cragsmen might take; and even of these +but few.</p> +<p>This midway stream was called the Wildlake, and the way along +it Wildlake’s Way, because it came to them out of the wood, +which on that north side stretched away from nigh to the lip of +the valley-wall up to the pine woods and the high fells on the +east and north, and down to the plain country on the west and +south.</p> +<p><a name="page3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 3</span>Now when +the Weltering Water came out of the rocky tangle near the pass, +it was turned aside by the ground till it swung right up to the +feet of the Southern crags; then it turned and slowly bent round +again northward, and at last fairly doubled back on itself before +it turned again to run westward; so that when, after its second +double, it had come to flowing softly westward under the northern +crags, it had cast two thirds of a girdle round about a space of +land a little below the grassy knolls and tofts aforesaid; and +there in that fair space between the folds of the Weltering Water +stood the Thorp whereof the tale hath told.</p> +<p>The men thereof had widened and deepened the Weltering Water +about them, and had bridged it over to the plain meads; and +athwart the throat of the space left clear by the water they had +built them a strong wall though not very high, with a gate amidst +and a tower on either side thereof. Moreover, on the face +of the cliff which was but a stone’s throw from the gate +they had made them stairs and ladders to go up by; and on a knoll +nigh the brow had built a watch-tower of stone strong and great, +lest war should come into the land from over the hills. +That tower was ancient, and therefrom the Thorp had its name and +the whole valley also; and it was called Burgstead in +Burgdale.</p> +<p>So long as the Weltering Water ran straight along by the +northern cliffs after it had left Burgstead, betwixt the water +and the cliffs was a wide flat way fashioned by man’s +hand. Thus was the water again a good defence to the Thorp, +for it ran slow and deep there, and there was no other ground +betwixt it and the cliffs save that road, which was easy to bar +across so that no foemen might pass without battle, and this road +was called the Portway. For a long mile the river ran under +the northern cliffs, and then turned into the midst of the Dale, +and went its way westward a broad stream winding in gentle laps +and folds here and there down to the out-gate of the Dale. +But the Portway held on still underneath the rock-wall, till the +sheer-rocks grew somewhat broken, and were cumbered with certain +screes, and at last <a name="page4"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +4</span>the wayfarer came upon the break in them, and the ghyll +through which ran the Wildlake with Wildlake’s Way beside +it, but the Portway still went on all down the Dale and away to +the Plain-country.</p> +<p>That road in the ghyll, which was neither wide nor smooth, the +wayfarer into the wood must follow, till it lifted itself out of +the ghyll, and left the Wildlake coming rattling down by many +steps from the east; and now the way went straight north through +the woodland, ever mounting higher, (because the whole set of the +land was toward the high fells,) but not in any cleft or +ghyll. The wood itself thereabout was thick, a blended +growth of diverse kinds of trees, but most of oak and ash; light +and air enough came through their boughs to suffer the holly and +bramble and eglantine and other small wood to grow together into +thickets, which no man could pass without hewing a way. But +before it is told whereto Wildlake’s Way led, it must be +said that on the east side of the ghyll, where it first began +just over the Portway, the hill’s brow was clear of wood +for a certain space, and there, overlooking all the Dale, was the +Mote-stead of the Dalesmen, marked out by a great ring of stones, +amidst of which was the mound for the Judges and the Altar of the +Gods before it. And this was the holy place of the men of +the Dale and of other folk whereof the tale shall now tell.</p> +<p>For when Wildlake’s Way had gone some three miles from +the Mote-stead, the trees began to thin, and presently afterwards +was a clearing and the dwellings of men, built of timber as may +well be thought. These houses were neither rich nor great, +nor was the folk a mighty folk, because they were but a few, +albeit body by body they were stout carles enough. They had +not affinity with the Dalesmen, and did not wed with them, yet it +is to be deemed that they were somewhat akin to them. To be +short, though they were freemen, yet as regards the Dalesmen were +they well-nigh their servants; for they were but poor in goods, +and had to lean upon them somewhat. No tillage they <a +name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 5</span>had among those +high trees; and of beasts nought save some flocks of goats and a +few asses. Hunters they were, and charcoal-burners, and +therein the deftest of men, and they could shoot well in the bow +withal: so they trucked their charcoal and their smoked venison +and their peltries with the Dalesmen for wheat and wine and +weapons and weed; and the Dalesmen gave them main good +pennyworths, as men who had abundance wherewith to uphold their +kinsmen, though they were but far-away kin. Stout hands had +these Woodlanders and true hearts as any; but they were +few-spoken and to those that needed them not somewhat surly of +speech and grim of visage: brown-skinned they were, but +light-haired; well-eyed, with but little red in their cheeks: +their women were not very fair, for they toiled like the men, or +more. They were thought to be wiser than most men in +foreseeing things to come. They were much given to spells, +and songs of wizardry, and were very mindful of the old +story-lays, wherein they were far more wordy than in their daily +speech. Much skill had they in runes, and were exceeding +deft in scoring them on treen bowls, and on staves, and +door-posts and roof-beams and standing-beds and such like +things. Many a day when the snow was drifting over their +roofs, and hanging heavy on the tree-boughs, and the wind was +roaring through the trees aloft and rattling about the close +thicket, when the boughs were clattering in the wind, and +crashing down beneath the weight of the gathering freezing snow, +when all beasts and men lay close in their lairs, would they sit +long hours about the house-fire with the knife or the gouge in +hand, with the timber twixt their knees and the whetstone beside +them, hearkening to some tale of old times and the days when +their banner was abroad in the world; and they the while +wheedling into growth out of the tough wood knots and blossoms +and leaves and the images of beasts and warriors and women.</p> +<p>They were called nought save the Woodland-Carles in that day, +though time had been when they had borne a nobler name: and their +abode was called Carlstead. Shortly, for all they had <a +name="page6"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 6</span>and all they +had not, for all they were and all they were not, they were +well-beloved by their friends and feared by their foes.</p> +<p>Now when Wildlake’s Way was gotten to Carlstead, there +was an end of it toward the north; though beyond it in a right +line the wood was thinner, because of the hewing of the +Carles. But the road itself turned west at once and went on +through the wood, till some four miles further it first thinned +and then ceased altogether, the ground going down-hill all the +way: for this was the lower flank of the first great upheaval +toward the high mountains. But presently, after the wood +was ended, the land broke into swelling downs and winding dales +of no great height or depth, with a few scattered trees about the +hillsides, mostly thorns or scrubby oaks, gnarled and bent and +kept down by the western wind: here and there also were +yew-trees, and whiles the hillsides would be grown over with +box-wood, but none very great; and often juniper grew +abundantly. This then was the country of the Shepherds, who +were friends both of the Dalesmen and the Woodlanders. They +dwelt not in any fenced town or thorp, but their homesteads were +scattered about as was handy for water and shelter. +Nevertheless they had their own stronghold; for amidmost of their +country, on the highest of a certain down above a bottom where a +willowy stream winded, was a great earthwork: the walls thereof +were high and clean and overlapping at the entering in, and +amidst of it was a deep well of water, so that it was a very +defensible place: and thereto would they drive their flocks and +herds when war was in the land, for nought but a very great host +might win it; and this stronghold they called Greenbury.</p> +<p>These Shepherd-Folk were strong and tall like the Woodlanders, +for they were partly of the same blood, but burnt they were both +ruddy and brown: they were of more words than the Woodlanders but +yet not many-worded. They knew well all those old +story-lays, (and this partly by the minstrelsy of the +Woodlanders,) but they had scant skill in wizardry, and would +send for the Woodlanders, both men and women, to do whatso they +needed therein. They <a name="page7"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 7</span>were very hale and long-lived, whereas +they dwelt in clear bright air, and they mostly went light-clad +even in the winter, so strong and merry were they. They +wedded with the Woodlanders and the Dalesmen both; at least +certain houses of them did so. They grew no corn; nought +but a few pot-herbs, but had their meal of the Dalesmen; and in +the summer they drave some of their milch-kine into the Dale for +the abundance of grass there; whereas their own hills and bents +and winding valleys were not plenteously watered, except here and +there as in the bottom under Greenbury. No swine they had, +and but few horses, but of sheep very many, and of the best both +for their flesh and their wool. Yet were they nought so +deft craftsmen at the loom as were the Dalesmen, and their women +were not very eager at the weaving, though they loathed not the +spindle and rock. Shortly, they were merry folk +well-beloved of the Dalesmen, quick to wrath, though it abode not +long with them; not very curious in their houses and halls, which +were but little, and were decked mostly with the handiwork of the +Woodland-Carles their guests; who when they were abiding with +them, would oft stand long hours nose to beam, scoring and +nicking and hammering, answering no word spoken to them but with +aye or no, desiring nought save the endurance of the +daylight. Moreover, this shepherd-folk heeded not gay +raiment over-much, but commonly went clad in white woollen or +sheep-brown weed.</p> +<p>But beyond this shepherd-folk were more downs and more, +scantily peopled, and that after a while by folk with whom they +had no kinship or affinity, and who were at whiles their +foes. Yet was there no enduring enmity between them; and +ever after war and battle came peace; and all blood-wites were +duly paid and no long feud followed: nor were the Dalesmen and +the Woodlanders always in these wars, though at whiles they +were. Thus then it fared with these people.</p> +<p>But now that we have told of the folks with whom the Dalesmen +had kinship, affinity, and friendship, tell we of their chief <a +name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 8</span>abode, +Burgstead to wit, and of its fashion. As hath been told, it +lay upon the land made nigh into an isle by the folds of the +Weltering Water towards the uppermost end of the Dale; and it was +warded by the deep water, and by the wall aforesaid with its +towers. Now the Dale at its widest, to wit where Wildlake +fell into it, was but nine furlongs over, but at Burgstead it was +far narrower; so that betwixt the wall and the wandering stream +there was but a space of fifty acres, and therein lay Burgstead +in a space of the shape of a sword-pommel: and the houses of the +kinships lay about it, amidst of gardens and orchards, but little +ordered into streets and lanes, save that a way went clean +through everything from the tower-warded gate to the bridge over +the Water, which was warded by two other towers on its hither +side.</p> +<p>As to the houses, they were some bigger, some smaller, as the +housemates needed. Some were old, but not very old, save +two only, and some quite new, but of these there were not many: +they were all built fairly of stone and lime, with much fair and +curious carved work of knots and beasts and men round about the +doors; or whiles a wale of such-like work all along the +house-front. For as deft as were the Woodlanders with knife +and gouge on the oaken beams, even so deft were the Dalesmen with +mallet and chisel on the face of the hewn stone; and this was a +great pastime about the Thorp. Within these houses had but +a hall and solar, with shut-beds out from the hall on one side or +two, with whatso of kitchen and buttery and out-bower men deemed +handy. Many men dwelt in each house, either kinsfolk, or +such as were joined to the kindred.</p> +<p>Near to the gate of Burgstead in that street aforesaid and +facing east was the biggest house of the Thorp; it was one of the +two abovesaid which were older than any other. Its +door-posts and the lintel of the door were carved with knots and +twining stems fairer than other houses of that stead; and on the +wall beside the door carved over many stones was an image <a +name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 9</span>wrought in the +likeness of a man with a wide face, which was terrible to behold, +although it smiled: he bore a bent bow in his hand with an arrow +fitted to its string, and about the head of him was a ring of +rays like the beams of the sun, and at his feet was a dragon, +which had crept, as it were, from amidst of the blossomed knots +of the door-post wherewith the tail of him was yet +entwined. And this head with the ring of rays about it was +wrought into the adornment of that house, both within and +without, in many other places, but on never another house of the +Dale; and it was called the House of the Face. Thereof hath +the tale much to tell hereafter, but as now it goeth on to tell +of the ways of life of the Dalesmen.</p> +<p>In Burgstead was no Mote-hall or Town-house or Church, such as +we wot of in these days; and their market-place was wheresoever +any might choose to pitch a booth: but for the most part this was +done in the wide street betwixt the gate and the bridge. As +to a meeting-place, were there any small matters between man and +man, these would the Alderman or one of the Wardens deal with, +sitting in Court with the neighbours on the wide space just +outside the Gate: but if it were to do with greater matters, such +as great manslayings and blood-wites, or the making of war or +ending of it, or the choosing of the Alderman and the Wardens, +such matters must be put off to the Folk-mote, which could but be +held in the place aforesaid where was the Doom-ring and the Altar +of the Gods; and at that Folk-mote both the Shepherd-Folk and the +Woodland-Carles foregathered with the Dalesmen, and duly said +their say. There also they held their great casts and made +offerings to the Gods for the Fruitfulness of the Year, the +ingathering of the increase, and in Memory of their +Forefathers. Natheless at Yule-tide also they feasted from +house to house to be glad with the rest of Midwinter, and many a +cup drank at those feasts to the memory of the fathers, and the +days when the world was wider to them, and their banners fared +far afield.</p> +<p><a name="page10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 10</span>But +besides these dwellings of men in the field between the wall and +the water, there were homesteads up and down the Dale whereso men +found it easy and pleasant to dwell: their halls were built of +much the same fashion as those within the Thorp; but many had a +high garth-wall cast about them, so that they might make a stout +defence in their own houses if war came into the Dale.</p> +<p>As to their work afield; in many places the Dale was fair with +growth of trees, and especially were there long groves of sweet +chestnut standing on the grass, of the fruit whereof the folk had +much gain. Also on the south side nigh to the western end +was a wood or two of yew-trees very great and old, whence they +gat them bow-staves, for the Dalesmen also shot well in the +bow. Much wheat and rye they raised in the Dale, and +especially at the nether end thereof. Apples and pears and +cherries and plums they had in plenty; of which trees, some grew +about the borders of the acres, some in the gardens of the Thorp +and the homesteads. On the slopes that had grown from the +breaking down here and there of the Northern cliffs, and which +faced the South and the Sun’s burning, were rows of goodly +vines, whereof the folk made them enough and to spare of strong +wine both white and red.</p> +<p>As to their beasts; swine they had a many, but not many sheep, +since herein they trusted to their trucking with their friends +the Shepherds; they had horses, and yet but a few, for they were +stout in going afoot; and, had they a journey to make with women +big with babes, or with children or outworn elders, they would +yoke their oxen to their wains, and go fair and softly whither +they would. But the said oxen and all their neat were +exceeding big and fair, far other than the little beasts of the +Shepherd-Folk; they were either dun of colour, or white with +black horns (and those very great) and black tail-tufts and +ear-tips. Asses they had, and mules for the paths of the +mountains to the east; geese and hens enough, and dogs not a few, +great <a name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +11</span>hounds stronger than wolves, sharp-nosed, long-jawed, +dun of colour, shag-haired.</p> +<p>As to their wares; they were very deft weavers of wool and +flax, and made a shift to dye the thrums in fair colours; since +both woad and madder came to them good cheap by means of the +merchants of the plain country, and of greening weeds was +abundance at hand. Good smiths they were in all the metals: +they washed somewhat of gold out of the sands of the Weltering +Water, and copper and tin they fetched from the rocks of the +eastern mountains; but of silver they saw little, and iron they +must buy of the merchants of the plain, who came to them twice in +the year, to wit in the spring and the late autumn just before +the snows. Their wares they bought with wool spun and in +the fleece, and fine cloth, and skins of wine and young neat both +steers and heifers, and wrought copper bowls, and gold and copper +by weight, for they had no stamped money. And they guested +these merchants well, for they loved them, because of the tales +they told them of the Plain and its cities, and the manslayings +therein, and the fall of Kings and Dukes, and the uprising of +Captains.</p> +<p>Thus then lived this folk in much plenty and ease of life, +though not delicately nor desiring things out of measure. +They wrought with their hands and wearied themselves; and they +rested from their toil and feasted and were merry: to-morrow was +not a burden to them, nor yesterday a thing which they would fain +forget: life shamed them not, nor did death make them afraid.</p> +<p>As for the Dale wherein they dwelt, it was indeed most fair +and lovely, and they deemed it the Blessing of the Earth, and +they trod its flowery grass beside its rippled streams amidst its +green tree-boughs proudly and joyfully with goodly bodies and +merry hearts.</p> +<h2><a name="page12"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +12</span>CHAPTER II. OF FACE-OF-GOD AND HIS KINDRED.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Tells</span> the tale, that on an evening +of late autumn when the weather was fair, calm, and sunny, there +came a man out of the wood hard by the Mote-stead aforesaid, who +sat him down at the roots of the Speech-mound, casting down +before him a roe-buck which he had just slain in the wood. +He was a young man of three and twenty summers; he was so clad +that he had on him a sheep-brown kirtle and leggings of like +stuff bound about with white leather thongs; he bore a +short-sword in his girdle and a little axe withal; the sword with +fair wrought gilded hilts and a dew-shoe of like fashion to its +sheath. He had his quiver at his back and bare in his hand +his bow unstrung. He was tall and strong, very fair of +fashion both of limbs and face, white-skinned, but for the +sun’s tanning, and ruddy-cheeked: his beard was little and +fine, his hair yellow and curling, cut somewhat close, but for +its length so plenteous, and so thick, that none could fail to +note it. He had no hat nor hood upon his head, nought but a +fillet of golden beads.</p> +<p>As he sat down he glanced at the dale below him with a +well-pleased look, and then cast his eyes down to the grass at +his feet, as though to hold a little longer all unchanged the +image of the fair place he had just seen. The sun was low +in the heavens, and his slant beams fell yellow all up the dale, +gilding the chestnut groves grown dusk and grey with autumn, and +the black masses of the elm-boughs, and gleaming back here and +there from the pools of the Weltering Water. Down in the +midmost meadows the long-horned dun kine were moving slowly as +they fed along the edges of the stream, and a dog was bounding +about with exceeding swiftness here and there among them. +At a sharply curved bight of the river the man could see a little +vermilion flame flickering about, and above it a thin blue veil +of smoke hanging in the air, and clinging to the boughs of the +willows anear; about it were a dozen menfolk clear to see, some +sitting, some standing, <a name="page13"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 13</span>some walking to and fro, but all in +company together: four of were brown-clad and short-skirted like +himself, and from above the hand of one came a flash of light as +the sun smote upon the steel of his spear. The others were +long-skirted and clad gayer, and amongst them were red and blue +and green and white garments, and they were clear to be seen for +women. Just as the young man looked up again, those of them +who were sitting down rose up, and those that were strolling drew +nigh, and they joined hands together, and fell to dancing on the +grass, and the dog and another one with him came up to the +dancers and raced about and betwixt them; and so clear to see +were they all and so little, being far away, that they looked +like dainty well-wrought puppets.</p> +<p>The young man sat smiling at it for a little, and then rose up +and shouldered his venison, and went down into Wildlake’s +Way, and presently was fairly in the Dale and striding along the +Portway beside the northern cliffs, whose greyness was gilded yet +by the last rays of the sun, though in a minute or two it would +go under the western rim. He went fast and cheerily, +murmuring to himself snatches of old songs; none overtook him on +the road, but he overtook divers folk going alone or in company +toward Burgstead; swains and old men, mothers and maidens coming +from the field and the acre, or going from house to house; and +one or two he met but not many. All these greeted him +kindly, and he them again; but he stayed not to speak with any, +but went as one in haste.</p> +<p>It was dusk by then he passed under the gate of Burgstead; he +went straight thence to the door of the House of the Face, and +entered as one who is at home, and need go no further, nor abide +a bidding.</p> +<p>The hall he came into straight out of the open air was long +and somewhat narrow and not right high; it was well-nigh dark now +within, but since he knew where to look, he could see by the +flicker that leapt up now and then from the smouldering brands of +the hearth amidmost the hall under the luffer, that there were <a +name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 14</span>but three men +therein, and belike they were even they whom he looked to find +there, and for their part they looked for his coming, and knew +his step.</p> +<p>He set down his venison on the floor, and cried out in a +cheery voice: ‘Ho, Kettel! Are all men gone without +doors to sleep so near the winter-tide, that the Hall is as dark +as a cave? Hither to me! Or art thou also +sleeping?’</p> +<p>A voice came from the further side of the hearth: ‘Yea, +lord, asleep I am, and have been, and dreaming; and in my dream I +dealt with the flesh-pots and the cake-board, and thou shalt see +my dream come true presently to thy gain.’</p> +<p>Quoth another voice: ‘Kettel hath had out that share of +his dream already belike, if the saw sayeth sooth about +cooks. All ye have been away, so belike he hath done as +Rafe’s dog when Rafe ran away from the slain +buck.’</p> +<p>He laughed therewith, and Kettel with him, and a third voice +joined the laughter. The young man also laughed and said: +‘Here I bring the venison which my kinsman desired; but as +ye see I have brought it over-late: but take it, Kettel. +When cometh my father from the stithy?’</p> +<p>Quoth Kettel: ‘My lord hath been hard at it shaping the +Yule-tide sword, and doth not lightly leave such work, as ye wot, +but he will be here presently, for he has sent to bid us dight +for supper straightway.’</p> +<p>Said the young man: ‘Where are there lords in the dale, +Kettel, or hast thou made some thyself, that thou must be always +throwing them in my teeth?’</p> +<p>‘Son of the Alderman,’ said Kettel, ‘ye call +me Kettel, which is no name of mine, so why should I not call +thee lord, which is no dignity of thine, since it goes well over +my tongue from old use and wont? But here comes my mate of +the kettle, and the women and lads. Sit down by the hearth +away from their hurry, and I will fetch thee the +hand-water.’</p> +<p>The young man sat down, and Kettel took up the venison <a +name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 15</span>and went his +ways toward the door at the lower end of the hall; but ere he +reached it it opened, and a noisy crowd entered of men, women, +boys, and dogs, some bearing great wax candles, some bowls and +cups and dishes and trenchers, and some the boards for the +meal.</p> +<p>The young man sat quiet smiling and winking his eyes at the +sudden flood of light let into the dark place; he took in without +looking at this or the other thing the aspect of his +Fathers’ House, so long familiar to him; yet to-night he +had a pleasure in it above his wont, and in all the stir of the +household; for the thought of the wood wherein he had wandered +all day yet hung heavy upon him. Came one of the girls and +cast fresh brands on the smouldering fire and stirred it into a +blaze, and the wax candles were set up on the daïs, so that +between them and the mew-quickened fire every corner of the hall +was bright. As aforesaid it was long and narrow, +over-arched with stone and not right high, the windows high up +under the springing of the roof-arch and all on the side toward +the street; over against them were the arches of the shut-beds of +the housemates. The walls were bare that evening, but folk +were wont to hang up hallings of woven pictures thereon when +feasts and high-days were toward; and all along the walls were +the tenter-hooks for that purpose, and divers weapons and tools +were hanging from them here and there. About the daïs +behind the thwart-table were now stuck for adornment leavy boughs +of oak now just beginning to turn with the first frosts. +High up on the gable wall above the tenter-hooks for the hangings +were carven fair imagery and knots and twining stems; for there +in the hewn atone was set forth that same image with the rayed +head that was on the outside wall, and he was smiting the dragon +and slaying him; but here inside the house all this was stained +in fair and lively colours, and the sun-like rays round the head +of the image were of beaten gold. At the lower end of the +hall were two doors going into the butteries, and kitchen, and +other <a name="page16"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +16</span>out-bowers; and above these doors was a loft upborne by +stone pillars, which loft was the sleeping chamber of the goodman +of the house; but the outward door was halfway between the said +loft and the hearth of the hall.</p> +<p>So the young man took the shoes from his feet and then sat +watching the women and lads arraying the boards, till Kettel came +again to him with an old woman bearing the ewer and basin, who +washed his feet and poured the water over his hands, and gave him +the towel with fair-broidered ends to dry them withal.</p> +<p>Scarce had he made an end of this ere through the outer door +came in three men and a young woman with them; the foremost of +these was a man younger by some two years than the first-comer, +but so like him that none might misdoubt that he was his brother; +the next was an old man with a long white beard, but hale and +upright; and lastly came a man of middle-age, who led the young +woman by the hand. He was taller than the first of the +young men, though the other who entered with him outwent him in +height; a stark carle he was, broad across the shoulders, thin in +the flank, long-armed and big-handed; very noble and +well-fashioned of countenance, with a straight nose and grey eyes +underneath a broad brow: his hair grown somewhat scanty was done +about with a fillet of golden beads like the young men his +sons. For indeed this was their father, and the master of +the House.</p> +<p>His name was Iron-face, for he was the deftest of +weapon-smiths, and he was the Alderman of the Dalesmen, and +well-beloved of them; his kindred was deemed the noblest of the +Dale, and long had they dwelt in the House of the Face. But +of his sons the youngest, the new-comer, was named Hall-face, and +his brother the elder Face-of-god; which name was of old use +amongst the kindred, and many great men and stout warriors had +borne it aforetime: and this young man, in great love had he been +gotten, and in much hope had he been reared, and therefore had he +been named after the best of the kindred. But <a +name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 17</span>his mother, +who was hight the Jewel, and had been a very fair woman, was dead +now, and Iron-face lacked a wife.</p> +<p>Face-of-god was well-beloved of his kindred and of all the +Folk of the Dale, and he had gotten a to-name, and was called +Gold-mane because of the abundance and fairness of his hair.</p> +<p>As for the young woman that was led in by Iron-face, she was +the betrothed of Face-of-god, and her name was the Bride. +She looked with such eyes of love on him when she saw him in the +hall, as though she had never seen him before but once, nor loved +him but since yesterday; though in truth they had grown up +together and had seen each other most days of the year for many +years. She was of the kindred with whom the chiefs and +great men of the Face mostly wedded, which was indeed far away +kindred of them. She was a fair woman and strong: not +easily daunted amidst perils she was hardy and handy and +light-foot: she could swim as well as any, and could shoot well +in the bow, and wield sword and spear: yet was she kind and +compassionate, and of great courtesy, and the very dogs and kine +trusted in her and loved her. Her hair was dark red of hue, +long and fine and plenteous, her eyes great and brown, her brow +broad and very fair, her lips fine and red: her cheek not ruddy, +yet nowise sallow, but clear and bright: tall she was and of +excellent fashion, but well-knit and well-measured rather than +slender and wavering as the willow-bough. Her voice was +sweet and soft, her words few, but exceeding dear to the +listener. In short, she was a woman born to be the ransom +of her Folk.</p> +<p>Now as to the names which the menfolk of the Face bore, and +they an ancient kindred, a kindred of chieftains, it has been +said that in times past their image of the God of the Earth had +over his treen face a mask of beaten gold fashioned to the shape +of the image; and that when the Alderman of the Folk died, he to +wit who served the God and bore on his arm the gold-ring between +the people and the altar, this visor or face of God was laid over +the face of him who had been in a manner his priest, <a +name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 18</span>and therewith +he was borne to mound; and the new Alderman and priest had it in +charge to fashion a new visor for the God; and whereas for long +this great kindred had been chieftains of the people, they had +been, and were all so named, that the word Face was ever a part +of their names.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER III. THEY TALK OF DIVERS MATTERS IN THE +HALL.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> Face-of-god, who is also called +Gold-mane, rose up to meet the new-comers, and each of them +greeted him kindly, and the Bride kissed him on the cheek, and he +her in likewise; and he looked kindly on her, and took her hand, +and went on up the hall to the daïs, following his father +and the old man; as for him, he was of the kindred of the House, +and was foster-father of Iron-face and of his sons both; and his +name was Stone-face: a stark warrior had he been when he was +young, and even now he could do a man’s work in the +battlefield, and his understanding was as good as that of a man +in his prime. So went these and four others up on to the +daïs and sat down before the thwart-table looking down the +hall, for the meat was now on the board; and of the others there +were some fifty men and women who were deemed to be of the +kindred and sat at the endlong tables.</p> +<p>So then the Alderman stood up and made the sign of the Hammer +over the meat, the token of his craft and of his God. Then +they fell to with good hearts, for there was enough and to spare +of meat and drink. There was bread and flesh (though not +Gold-mane’s venison), and leeks and roasted chestnuts of +the grove, and red-cheeked apples of the garth, and honey enough +of that year’s gathering, and medlars sharp and mellow: +moreover, good wine of the western bents went up and down the +hall in great gilded copper bowls and in mazers girt and lipped +with gold.</p> +<p><a name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 19</span>But +when they were full of meat, and had drunken somewhat, they fell +to speech, and Iron-face spake aloud to his son, who had but been +speaking softly to the Bride as one playmate to the other: but +the Alderman said: ‘Scarce are the wood-deer grown, +kinsman, when I must needs eat sheep’s flesh on a Thursday, +though my son has lain abroad in the woods all night to hunt for +me.’</p> +<p>And therewith he smiled in the young man’s face; but +Gold-mane reddened and said: ‘So is it, kinsman, I can hit +what I can see; but not what is hidden.’</p> +<p>Iron-face laughed and said: ‘Hast thou been to the +Woodland-Carles? are their women fairer than our +cousins?’</p> +<p>Face-of-god took up the Bride’s hand in his and kissed +it and laid it to his cheek; and then turned to his father and +said: ‘Nay, father, I saw not the Wood-carles, nor went to +their abode; and on no day do I lust after their women. +Moreover, I brought home a roebuck of the fattest; but I was +over-late for Kettel, and the flesh was ready for the board by +then I came.’</p> +<p>‘Well, son,’ quoth Iron-face, for he was merry, +‘a roebuck is but a little deer for such big men as are +thou and I. But I rede thee take the Bride along with thee +the next time; and she shall seek whilest thou sleepest, and hit +when thou missest.’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god smiled, but he frowned somewhat also, and he +said: ‘Well were that, indeed! But if ye must needs +drag a true tale out of me: that roebuck I shot at the very edge +of the wood nigh to the Mote-stead as I was coming home: harts +had I seen in the wood and its lawns, and boars, and bucks, and +loosed not at them: for indeed when I awoke in the morning in +that wood-lawn ye wot of, I wandered up and down with my bow +unbent. So it was that I fared as if I were seeking +something, I know not what, that should fill up something lacking +to me, I know not what. Thus I felt in myself even so long +as I was underneath the black boughs, and there was none beside +me and before me, and none to turn aback to: but when I came out +again into the <a name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +20</span>sunshine, and I saw the fair dale, and the happy abode +lying before me, and folk abroad in the meads merry in the +eventide; then was I full fain of it, and loathed the wood as an +empty thing that had nought to give me; and lo you! all that I +had been longing for in the wood, was it not in this House and +ready to my hand?—and that is good meseemeth.’</p> +<p>Therewith he drank of the cup which the Bride put into his +hand after she had kissed the rim, but when he had set it down +again he spake once more:</p> +<p>‘And yet now I am sitting honoured and well-beloved in +the House of my Fathers, with the holy hearth sparkling and +gleaming down there before me; and she that shall bear my +children sitting soft and kind by my side, and the bold lads I +shall one day lead in battle drinking out of my very cup: now it +seems to me that amidst all this, the dark cold wood, wherein +abide but the beasts and the Foes of the Gods, is bidding me to +it and drawing me thither. Narrow is the Dale and the World +is wide; I would it were dawn and daylight, that I might be afoot +again.’</p> +<p>And he half rose up from his place. But his father bent +his brow on him and said: ‘Kinsman, thou hast a long tongue +for a half-trained whelp: nor see I whitherward thy mind is +wandering, but if it be on the road of a lad’s desire to go +further and fare worse. Hearken then, I will offer thee +somewhat! Soon shall the West-country merchants be here +with their winter truck. How sayest thou? hast thou a mind +to fare back with them, and look on the Plain and its Cities, and +take and give with the strangers? To whom indeed thou shalt +be nothing save a purse with a few lumps of gold in it, or maybe +a spear in the stranger’s band on the stricken field, or a +bow on the wall of an alien city. This is a craft which +thou mayst well learn, since thou shalt be a chieftain; a craft +good to learn, however grievous it be in the learning. And +I myself have been there; for in my youth I desired sore to look +on the world beyond the mountains; so I went, and I filled my +belly with the fruit of my own desires, and a bitter <a +name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 21</span>meat was +that; but now that it has passed through me, and I yet alive, +belike I am more of a grown man for having endured its +gripe. Even so may it well be with thee, son; so go if thou +wilt; and thou shalt go with my blessing, and with gold and wares +and wain and spearmen.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘I thank thee, for +it is well offered; but I will not go, for I have no lust for the +Plain and its Cities; I love the Dale well, and all that is round +about it; therein will I live and die.’</p> +<p>Therewith he fell a-musing; and the Bride looked at him +anxiously, but spake not. Sooth to say her heart was +sinking, as though she foreboded some new thing, which should +thrust itself into their merry life.</p> +<p>But the old man Stone-face took up the word and said:</p> +<p>‘Son Gold-mane, it behoveth me to speak, since belike I +know the wild-wood better than most, and have done for these +three-score and ten years; to my cost. Now I perceive that +thou longest for the wood and the innermost of it; and wot ye +what? This longing will at whiles entangle the sons of our +chieftains, though this Alderman that now is hath been free +therefrom, which is well for him. For, time was this +longing came over me, and I went whither it led me: overlong it +were to tell of all that befell me because of it, and how my +heart bled thereby. So sorry were the tidings that came of +it, that now meseemeth my heart should be of stone and not my +face, had it not been for the love wherewith I have loved the +sons of the kindred. Therefore, son, it were not ill if ye +went west away with the merchants this winter, and learned the +dealings of the cities, and brought us back tales +thereof.’</p> +<p>But Gold-mane cried out somewhat angrily, ‘I tell thee, +foster-father, that I have no mind for the cities and their men +and their fools and their whores and their runagates. But +as for the wood and its wonders, I have done with it, save for +hunting there along with others of the Folk. So let thy +mind be at ease; and for <a name="page22"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 22</span>the rest, I will do what the Alderman +commandeth, and whatso my father craveth of me.’</p> +<p>‘And that is well, son,’ said Stone-face, +‘if what ye say come to pass, as sore I misdoubt me it will +not. But well it were, well it were! For such things +are in the wood, yea and before ye come to its innermost, as may +well try the stoutest heart. Therein are Kobbolds, and +Wights that love not men, things unto whom the grief of men is as +the sound of the fiddle-bow unto us. And there abide the +ghosts of those that may not rest; and there wander the dwarfs +and the mountain-dwellers, the dealers in marvels, the givers of +gifts that destroy Houses; the forgers of the curse that clingeth +and the murder that flitteth to and fro. There moreover are +the lairs of Wights in the shapes of women, that draw a young +man’s heart out of his body, and fill up the empty place +with desire never to be satisfied, that they may mock him +therewith and waste his manhood and destroy him. Nor say I +much of the strong-thieves that dwell there, since thou art a +valiant sword; or of them who have been made Wolves of the Holy +Places; or of the Murder-Carles, the remnants and off-scourings +of wicked and wretched Folks—men who think as much of the +life of a man as of the life of a fly. Yet happiest is the +man whom they shall tear in pieces, than he who shall live +burdened by the curse of the Foes of the Gods.’</p> +<p>The housemaster looked on his son as the old carle spake, and +a cloud gathered on his face a while; and when Stone-face had +made an end he spake:</p> +<p>‘This is long and evil talk for the end of a merry day, +O fosterer! Wilt thou not drink a draught, O Redesman, and +then stand up and set thy fiddle-bow a-dancing, and cause it draw +some fair words after it? For my cousin’s face hath +grown sadder than a young maid’s should be, and my +son’s eyes gleam with thoughts that are far away from us +and abroad in the wild-wood seeking marvels.’</p> +<p>Then arose a man of middle-age from the top of the endlong <a +name="page23"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 23</span>bench on the +east side of the hall: a man tall, thin and scant-haired, with a +nose like an eagle’s neb: he reached out his hand for the +bowl, and when they had given to him he handled it, and raised it +aloft and cried:</p> +<p>‘Here I drink a double health to Face-of-god and the +Bride, and the love that lieth between them, and the love betwixt +them twain and us.’</p> +<p>He drank therewith, and the wine went up and down the hall, +and all men drank, both carles and queens, with shouting and +great joy. Then Redesman put down the cup (for it had come +into his hands again), and reached his hand to the wall behind +him, and took down his fiddle hanging there in its case, and drew +it out and fell to tuning it, while the hall grew silent to +hearken: then he handled the bow and laid it on the strings till +they wailed and chuckled sweetly, and when the song was well +awake and stirring briskly, then he lifted up his voice and +sang:</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>The Minstrel saith</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">‘O why on this morning, ye maids, are ye +tripping<br /> + Aloof from the meadows yet fresh with the dew,<br /> +Where under the west wind the river is lipping<br /> + The fragrance of mint, the white blooms and the +blue?</p> +<p class="poetry">For rough is the Portway where panting ye +wander;<br /> + On your feet and your gown-hems the dust lieth +dun;<br /> +Come trip through the grass and the meadow-sweet yonder,<br /> + And forget neath the willows the sword of the +sun.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>The Maidens answer</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">Though fair are the moon-daisies down by the +river,<br /> + And soft is the grass and the white clover sweet;<br +/> +Though twixt us and the rock-wall the hot glare doth quiver,<br +/> + And the dust of the wheel-way is dun on our +feet;</p> +<p class="poetry">Yet here on the way shall we walk on this +morning<br /> + Though the sun burneth here, and sweet, cool is the +mead;<br /> +<a name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 24</span>For here +when in old days the Burg gave its warning,<br /> + Stood stark under weapons the doughty of deed.</p> +<p class="poetry">Here came on the aliens their proud words +a-crying,<br /> + And here on our threshold they stumbled and fell;<br +/> +Here silent at even the steel-clad were lying,<br /> + And here were our mothers the story to tell.</p> +<p class="poetry">Here then on the morn of the eve of the +wedding<br /> + We pray to the Mighty that we too may bear<br /> +Such war-walls for warding of orchard and steading,<br /> + That the new days be merry as old days were +dear.’</p> +<p>Therewith he made an end, and shouts and glad cries arose all +about the hall; and an old man arose and cried: ‘A cup to +the memory of the Mighty of the Day of the Warding of the +Ways.’ For you must know this song told of a custom +of the Folk, held in memory of a time of bygone battle, wherein +they had overthrown a great host of aliens on the Portway betwixt +the river and the cliffs, two furlongs from the gate of +Burgstead. So now two weeks before Midsummer those maidens +who were presently to be wedded went early in the morning to that +place clad in very fair raiment, swords girt to their sides and +spears in their hands, and abode there on the highway from morn +till even as though they were a guard to it. And they made +merry there, singing songs and telling tales of times past: and +at the sunsetting their grooms came to fetch them away to the +Feast of the Eve of the Wedding.</p> +<p>While the song was a-singing Face-of-god took the +Bride’s hand in his and caressed it, and was soft and +blithe with her; and she reddened and trembled for pleasure, and +called to mind wedding feasts that had been, and fair brides that +she had seen thereat, and she forgot her fears and her heart was +at peace again.</p> +<p>And Iron-face looked well-pleased on the two from time to +time, and smiled, but forbore words to them.</p> +<p>But up and down the hall men talked with one another about <a +name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 25</span>things long +ago betid: for their hearts were high and they desired deeds; but +in that fair Dale so happy were the years from day to day that +there was but little to tell of. So deepened the night and +waned, and Gold-mane and the Bride still talked sweetly together, +and at whiles kindly to the others; and by seeming he had clean +forgotten the wood and its wonders.</p> +<p>Then at last the Alderman called for the cup of good-night, +and men drank thereof and went their ways to bed.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV. FACE-OF-GOD FARETH TO THE WOOD AGAIN.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> it was the earliest morning +and dawn was but just beginning, Face-of-god awoke and rose up +from his bed, and came forth into the hall naked in his shirt, +and stood by the hearth, wherein the piled-up embers were yet +red, and looked about and could see nothing stirring in the +dimness: then he fetched water and washed the night-tide off him, +and clad himself in haste, and was even as he was yesterday, save +that he left his bow and quiver in their place and took instead a +short casting-spear; moreover he took a leathern scrip and went +therewith to the buttery, and set therein bread and flesh and a +little gilded beaker; and all this he did with but little noise; +for he would not be questioned, lest he should have to answer +himself as well as others.</p> +<p>Thus he went quietly out of doors, for the door was but +latched, since no bolts or bars or locks were used in Burgstead, +and through the town-gate, which stood open, save when rumours of +war were about. He turned his face straight towards +Wildlake’s Way, walking briskly, but at whiles looking back +over his shoulder toward the East to note what way was made by +the dawning, and how the sky lightened above the mountain +passes.</p> +<p><a name="page26"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 26</span>By then +he was come to the place where the Maiden Ward was held in the +summer the dawn was so far forward that all things had their due +colours, and were clear to see in the shadowless day. It +was a bright morning, with an easterly air stirring that drave +away the haze and dried the meadows, which had otherwise been +rimy; for it was cold. Gold-mane lingered on the place a +little, and his eyes fell on the road, as dusty yet as in +Redesman’s song; for the autumn had been very dry, and the +strip of green that edged the outside of the way was worn and +dusty also. On the edge of it, half in the dusty road, half +on the worn grass, was a long twine of briony red-berried and +black-leaved; and right in the midst of the road were two twigs +of great-leaved sturdy pollard oak, as though they had been +thrown aside there yesterday by women or children a-sporting; and +the deep white dust yet held the marks of feet, some bare, some +shod, crossing each other here and there. Face-of-god +smiled as he passed on, as a man with a happy thought; for his +mind showed him a picture of the Bride as she would be leading +the Maiden Ward next summer, and singing first among the singers, +and he saw her as clearly as he had often seen her verily, and +before him was the fashion of her hands and all her body, and the +little mark on her right wrist, and the place where her arm +whitened, because the sleeve guarded it against the sun, which +had long been pleasant unto him, and the little hollow in her +chin, and the lock of red-brown hair waving in the wind above her +brow, and shining in the sun as brightly as the Alderman’s +cunningest work of golden wire. Soft and sweet seemed that +picture, till he almost seemed to hear her sweet voice calling to +him, and desire of her so took hold of the youth, that it stirred +him up to go swiftlier as he strode on, the day brightening +behind him.</p> +<p>Now was it nigh sunrise, and he began to meet folk on the way, +though not many; since for most their way lay afield, and not +towards the Burg. The first was a Woodlander, tall and +gaunt, striding beside his ass, whose panniers were laden with <a +name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +27</span>charcoal. The carle’s daughter, a little +maiden of seven winters, riding on the ass’s back betwixt +the panniers, and prattling to herself in the cold morning; for +she was pleased with the clear light in the east, and the smooth +wide turf of the meadows, as one who had not often been far from +the shadow of the heavy trees of the wood, and their dark wall +round about the clearing where they dwelt. Face-of-god gave +the twain the sele of the day in merry fashion as he passed them +by, and the sober dark-faced man nodded to him but spake no word, +and the child stayed her prattle to watch him as he went by.</p> +<p>Then came the sound of the rattle of wheels, and, as he +doubled an angle of the rock-wall, he came upon a wain drawn by +four dun kine, wherein lay a young woman all muffled up against +the cold with furs and cloths; beside the yoke-beasts went her +man, a well-knit trim-faced Dalesman clad bravely in holiday +raiment, girt with a goodly sword, bearing a bright steel helm on +his head, in his hand a long spear with a gay red and white shaft +done about with copper bands. He looked merry and proud of +his wain-load, and the woman was smiling kindly on him from out +of her scarlet and fur; but now she turned a weary happy face on +Gold-mane, for they knew him, as did all men of the Dale.</p> +<p>So he stopped when they met, for the goodman had already +stayed his slow beasts, and the goodwife had risen a little on +her cushions to greet him, yet slowly and but a little, for she +was great with child, and not far from her time. That knew +Gold-mane well, and what was toward, and why the goodman wore his +fine clothes, and why the wain was decked with oak-boughs and the +yoke-beasts with their best gilded bells and copper-adorned +harness. For it was a custom with many of the kindreds that +the goodwife should fare to her father’s house to lie in +with her first babe, and the day of her coming home was made a +great feast in the house. So then Face-of-god cried out: +‘Hail to thee, O Warcliff! Shrewd is the wind this +morning, and thou dost well to heed it carefully, this thine +orchard, this thy garden, this thy <a name="page28"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 28</span>fair apple-tree! To a good hall +thou wendest, and the Wine of Increase shall be sweet there this +even.’</p> +<p>Then smiled Warcliff all across his face, and the goodwife +hung her head and reddened. Said the goodman: ‘Wilt +thou not be with us, son of the Alderman, as surely thy father +shall be?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘though I were fain +of it: my own matters carry me away.’</p> +<p>‘What matters?’ said Warcliff; ‘perchance +thou art for the cities this autumn?’</p> +<p>Face-of-god answered somewhat stiffly: ‘Nay, I am +not;’ and then more kindly, and smiling, ‘All roads +lead not down to the Plain, friend.’</p> +<p>‘What road then farest thou away from us?’ said +the goodwife.</p> +<p>‘The way of my will,’ he answered.</p> +<p>‘And what way is that?’ said she; ‘take +heed, lest I get a longing to know. For then must thou +needs tell me, or deal with the carle there beside +thee.’</p> +<p>‘Nay, goodwife,’ said Face-of-god, ‘let not +that longing take thee; for on that matter I am even as wise as +thou. Now good speed to thee and to the +new-comer!’</p> +<p>Therewith he went close up to the wain, and reached out his +hand to her, and she gave him hers and he kissed it, and so went +his ways smiling kindly on them. Then the carle cried to +his kine, and they bent down their heads to the yoke; and +presently, as he walked on, he heard the rumble of the wain +mingling with the tinkling of their bells, which in a little +while became measured and musical, and sounded above the creaking +of the axles and the rattle of the gear and the roll of the great +wheels over the road: and so it grew thinner and thinner till it +all died away behind him.</p> +<p>He was now come to where the river turned away from the sheer +rock-wall, which was not so high there as in most other places, +as there had been in old time long screes from the cliff, which +had now grown together, with the waxing of herbs and the <a +name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 29</span>washing down +of the earth on to them, and made a steady slope or low hill +going down riverward. Over this the road lifted itself +above the level of the meadows, keeping a little way from the +cliffs, while on the other side its bank was somewhat broken and +steep here and there. As Face-of-god came up to one of +these broken places, the sun rose over the eastern pass, and the +meadows grew golden with its long beams. He lingered, and +looked back under his hand, and as he did so heard the voices and +laughter of women coming up from the slope below him, and +presently a young woman came struggling up the broken bank with +hand and knee, and cast herself down on the roadside turf +laughing and panting. She was a long-limbed light-made +woman, dark-faced and black-haired: amidst her laughter she +looked up and saw Gold-mane, who had stopped at once when he saw +her; she held out her hands to him, and said lightly, though her +face flushed withal:</p> +<p>‘Come hither, thou, and help the others to climb the +bank; for they are beaten in the race, and now must they do after +my will; that was the forfeit.’</p> +<p>He went up to her, and took her hands and kissed them, as was +the custom of the Dale, and said:</p> +<p>‘Hail to thee, Long-coat! who be they, and whither away +this morning early?’</p> +<p>She looked hard at him, and fondly belike, as she answered +slowly: ‘They be the two maidens of my father’s +house, whom thou knowest; and our errand, all three of us, is to +Burgstead, the Feast of the Wine of Increase which shall be drunk +this even.’</p> +<p>As she spake came another woman half up the bank, to whom went +Face-of-god, and, taking her hands, drew her up while she laughed +merrily in his face: he saluted her as he had Long-coat, and then +with a laugh turned about to wait for the third; who came indeed, +but after a little while, for she had abided, hearing their +voices. Her also Gold-mane drew up, and kissed <a +name="page30"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 30</span>her hands, +and she lay on the grass by Long-coat, but the second maiden +stood up beside the young man. She was white-skinned and +golden-haired, a very fair damsel, whereas the last-comer was but +comely, as were well-nigh all the women of the Dale.</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god, looking on the three: ‘How comes it, +maidens, that ye are but in your kirtles this sharp autumn +morning? or where have ye left your gowns or your +cloaks?’</p> +<p>For indeed they were clad but in close-fitting blue kirtles of +fine wool, embroidered about the hems with gold and coloured +threads.</p> +<p>The last-comer laughed and said: ‘What ails thee, +Gold-mane, to be so careful of us, as if thou wert our mother or +our nurse? Yet if thou must needs know, there hang our +gowns on the thorn-bush down yonder; for we have been running a +match and a forfeit; to wit, that she who was last on the highway +should go down again and bring them up all three; and now that is +my day’s work: but since thou art here, Alderman’s +son, thou shalt go down instead of me and fetch them +up.’</p> +<p>But he laughed merrily and outright, and said: ‘That +will I not, for there be but twenty-four hours in the day, and +what between eating and drinking and talking to fair maidens, I +have enough to do in every one of them. Wasteful are ye +women, and simple is your forfeit. Now will I, who am the +Alderman’s son, give forth a doom, and will ordain that one +of you fetch up the gowns yourselves, and that Long-coat be the +one; for she is the fleetest-footed and ablest thereto. +Will ye take my doom? for later on I shall not be +wiser.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said the fair woman, ‘not because +thou art the Alderman’s son, but because thou art the +fairest man of the Dale, and mayst bid us poor souls what thou +wilt.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god reddened at her words, and the speaker and the +last-comer laughed; but Long-coat held her peace: she cast one +very sober look on him, and then ran lightly down the bent; he +drew near the edge of it, and watched her going; for her +light-foot <a name="page31"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +31</span>slimness was fair to look on: and he noted that when she +was nigh the thorn-bush whereon hung the bright-broidered gowns, +and deemed belike that she was not seen, she kissed both her +hands where he had kissed them erst.</p> +<p>Thereat he drew aback and turned away shyly, scarce looking at +the other twain, who smiled on him with somewhat jeering looks; +but he bade them farewell and departed speedily; and if they +spoke, it was but softly, for he heard their voices no more.</p> +<p>He went on under the sunlight which was now gilding the +outstanding stones of the cliffs, and still his mind was set upon +the Bride; and his meeting with the mother of the yet unborn +baby, and with the three women with their freshness and fairness, +did somehow turn his thought the more upon her, since she was the +woman who was to be his amongst all women, for she was far fairer +than any one of them; and through all manner of life and through +all kinds of deeds would he be with her, and know more of her +fairness and kindness than any other could: and him-seemed he +could see pictures of her and of him amidst all these deeds and +ways.</p> +<p>Now he went very swiftly; for he was eager, though he knew not +for what, and he thought but little of the things on which his +eyes fell. He met none else on the road till he was come to +Wildlake’s Way, though he saw folk enough down in the +meadows; he was soon amidst the first of the trees, and without +making any stay set his face east and somewhat north, that is, +toward the slopes that led to the great mountains. He said +to himself aloud, as he wended the wood: ‘Strange! +yestereven I thought much of the wood, and I set my mind on not +going thither, and this morning I thought nothing of it, and here +am I amidst its trees, and wending towards its +innermost.’</p> +<p>His way was easy at first, because the wood for a little space +was all of beech, so that there was no undergrowth, and he went +lightly betwixt the tall grey and smooth boles; albeit his heart +was nought so gay as it was in the dale amidst the +sunshine. After a while the beech-wood grew thinner, and at +last gave out <a name="page32"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +32</span>altogether, and he came into a space of rough broken +ground with nought but a few scrubby oaks and thorn-bushes +growing thereon here and there. The sun was high in the +heavens now, and shone brightly down on the waste, though there +were a few white clouds high up above him. The rabbits +scuttled out of the grass before him; here and there he turned +aside from a stone on which lay coiled an adder sunning itself; +now and again both hart and hind bounded away from before him, or +a sounder of wild swine ran grunting away toward closer +covert. But nought did he see but the common sights and +sounds of the woodland; nor did he look for aught else, for he +knew this part of the woodland indifferent well.</p> +<p>He held on over this treeless waste for an hour or more, when +the ground began to be less rugged, and he came upon trees again, +but thinly scattered, oak and ash and hornbeam not right great, +with thickets of holly and blackthorn between them. The set +of the ground was still steadily up to the east and north-east, +and he followed it as one who wendeth an assured way. At +last before him seemed to rise a wall of trees and thicket; but +when he drew near to it, lo! an opening in a certain place, and a +little path as if men were wont to thread the tangle of the wood +thereby; though hitherto he had noted no slot of men, nor any +sign of them, since he had plunged into the deep of the +beech-wood. He took the path as one who needs must, and +went his ways as it led. In sooth it was well-nigh blind, +but he was a deft woodsman, and by means of it skirted many a +close thicket that had otherwise stayed him. So on he went, +and though the boughs were close enough overhead, and the sun +came through but in flecks, he judged that it was growing towards +noon, and he wotted well that he was growing aweary. For he +had been long afoot, and the more part of the time on a rough +way, or breasting a slope which was at whiles steep enough.</p> +<p>At last the track led him skirting about an exceeding close +thicket into a small clearing, through which ran a little +woodland <a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +33</span>rill amidst rushes and dead leaves: there was a low +mound near the eastern side of this wood-lawn, as though there +had been once a dwelling of man there, but no other sign or slot +of man was there.</p> +<p>So Face-of-god made stay in that place, casting himself down +beside the rill to rest him and eat and drink somewhat. +Whatever thoughts had been with him through the wood (and they +been many) concerning his House and his name, and his father, and +the journey he might make to the cities of the Westland, and what +was to befall him when he was wedded, and what war or trouble +should be on his hands—all this was now mingled together +and confused by this rest amidst his weariness. He laid +down his scrip, and drew his meat from it and ate what he would, +and dipping his gilded beaker into the brook, drank water +smacking of the damp musty savour of the woodland; and then his +head sank back on a little mound in the short turf, and he fell +asleep at once. A long dream he had in short space; and +therein were blent his thoughts of the morning with the deeds of +yesterday; and other matters long forgotten in his waking hours +came back to his slumber in unordered confusion: all which made +up for him pictures clear, but of little meaning, save that, as +oft befalls in dreams, whatever he was a-doing he felt himself +belated.</p> +<p>When he awoke, smiling at something strange in his gone-by +dream, he looked up to the heavens, thinking to see signs of the +even at hand, for he seemed to have been dreaming so long. +The sky was thinly overcast by now, but by his wonted woodcraft +he knew the whereabouts of the sun, and that it was scant an hour +after noon. He sat there till he was wholly awake, and then +drank once more of the woodland water; and he said to himself, +but out loud, for he was fain of the sound of a man’s +voice, though it were but his own:</p> +<p>‘What is mine errand hither? Whither wend I? +What shall I have done to-morrow that I have hitherto left +undone? <a name="page34"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +34</span>Or what manner of man shall I be then other than I am +now?’</p> +<p>Yet though he said the words he failed to think the thought, +or it left him in a moment of time, and he thought but of the +Bride and her kindness. Yet that abode with him but a +moment, and again he saw himself and those two women on the +highway edge, and Long-coat lingering on the slope below, kissing +his kisses on her hands; and he was sorry that she desired him +over-much, for she was a fair woman and a friendly. But all +that also flowed from him at once, and he had no thought in him +but that he also desired something that he lacked: and this was a +burden to him, and he rose up frowning, and said to himself, +‘Am I become a mere sport of dreams, whether I sleep or +wake? I will go backward—or forward, but will think +no more.’</p> +<p>Then he ordered his gear again, and took the path onward and +upward toward the Great Mountains; and the track was even fainter +than before for a while, so that he had to seek his way +diligently.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER V. FACE-OF-GOD FALLS IN WITH MENFOLK ON THE +MOUNTAIN.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> he plodded on steadily, and for +a long time the forest changed but little, and of wild things he +saw only a few of those that love the closest covert. The +ground still went up and up, though at whiles were hollows, and +steeper bents out of them again, and the half-blind path or slot +still led past the close thickets and fallen trees, and he made +way without let or hindrance. At last once more the wood +began to thin, and the trees themselves to be smaller and gnarled +and ill-grown: therewithal the day was waning, and the sky was +quite clear again as the afternoon grew into a fair autumn +evening.</p> +<p>Now the trees failed altogether, and the slope grown steeper +<a name="page35"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 35</span>was +covered with heather and ling; and looking up, he saw before him +quite near by seeming in the clear even (though indeed they were +yet far away) the snowy peaks flushed with the sinking sun +against the frosty dark-grey eastern sky; and below them the dark +rock-mountains, and below these again, and nigh to him indeed, +the fells covered with pine-woods and looking like a wall to the +heaths he trod.</p> +<p>He stayed a little while and turned his head to look at the +way whereby he had come; but that way a swell of the oak-forest +hid everything but the wood itself, making a wall behind him as +the pine-wood made a wall before. There came across him +then a sharp memory of the boding words which Stone-face had +spoken last night, and he felt as if he were now indeed within +the trap. But presently he laughed and said: ‘I am a +fool: this comes of being alone in the dark wood and the dismal +waste, after the merry faces of the Dale had swept away my +foolish musings of yesterday and the day before. Lo! here I +stand, a man of the Face, sword and axe by my side; if death +come, it can but come once; and if I fear not death, what shall +make me afraid? The Gods hate me not, and will not hurt me; +and they are not ugly, but beauteous.’</p> +<p>Therewith he strode on again, and soon came to a place where +the ground sank into a shallow valley and the ling gave place to +grass for a while, and there were tall old pines scattered about, +and betwixt them grey rocks; this he passed through, climbing a +steep bent out of it, and the pines were all about him now, +though growing wide apart, till at last he came to where they +thickened into a wood, not very close, wherethrough he went +merrily, singing to himself and swinging his spear. He was +soon through this wood, and came on to a wide well-grassed +wood-lawn, hedged by the wood aforesaid on three sides, but +sloping up slowly toward the black wall of the thicker pine-wood +on the fourth side, and about half a furlong overthwart and +endlong. The sun had set while he was in the last wood, but +it was <a name="page36"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +36</span>still broad daylight on the wood-lawn, and as he stood +there he was ware of a house under the pine-wood on the other +side, built long and low, much like the houses of the +Woodland-Carles, but rougher fashioned and of unhewn trees. +He gazed on it, and said aloud to himself as his wont was:</p> +<p>‘Marvellous! here is a dwelling of man, scarce a +day’s journey from Burgstead; yet have I never heard tell +of it: may happen some of the Woodland-Carles have built it, and +are on some errand of hunting peltries up in the mountains, or +maybe are seeking copper and tin among the rocks. Well, at +least let us go see what manner of men dwell there, and if they +are minded for a guest to-night; for fain were I of a bed beneath +a roof, and of a board with strong meat and drink on +it.’</p> +<p>Therewith he set forward, not heeding much that the wood he +had passed through was hard on his left hand; but he had gone but +twenty paces when he saw a red thing at the edge of the wood, and +then a glitter, and a spear came whistling forth, and smote his +own spear so hard close to the steel that it flew out of his +hand; then came a great shout, and a man clad in a scarlet kirtle +ran forth on him. Face-of-god had his axe in his hand in a +twinkling, and ran at once to meet his foe; but the man had the +hill on his side as he rushed on with a short-sword in his +hand. Axe and sword clashed together for a moment of time, +and then both the men rolled over on the grass together, and +Face-of-god as he fell deemed that he heard the shrill cry of a +woman. Now Face-of-god found that he was the nethermost, +for if he was strong, yet was his foe stronger; the axe had flown +out of his hand also, while the strange man still kept a hold of +his short-sword; and presently, though he still struggled all he +could, he saw the man draw back his hand to smite with the said +sword; and at that nick of time the foeman’s knee was on +his breast, his left hand was doubled back behind him, and his +right wrist was gripped hard in the stranger’s left +hand. Even therewith his ears, sharpened by the coming +death, heard the sound of footsteps and fluttering raiment +drawing near; <a name="page37"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +37</span>something dark came between him and the sky; there was +the sound of a great stroke, and the big man loosened his grip +and fell off him to one side.</p> +<p>Face-of-god leapt up and ran to his axe and got hold of it; +but turning round found himself face to face with a tall woman +holding in her hand a stout staff like the limb of a tree. +She was calm and smiling, though forsooth it was she who had +stricken the stroke and stayed the sword from his throat. +His hand and axe dropped down to his side when he saw what it was +that faced him, and that the woman was young and fair; so he +spake to her and said:</p> +<p>‘What aileth, maiden? is this man thy foe? doth he +oppress thee? shall I slay him?’</p> +<p>She laughed and said: ‘Thou art open-handed in thy +proffers: he might have asked the like concerning thee but a +minute ago.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, yea,’ said Gold-mane, laughing also, +‘but he asked it not of thee.’</p> +<p>‘That is sooth,’ she said, ‘but since thou +hast asked me, I will tell thee that if thou slay him it will be +my harm as well as his; and in my country a man that taketh a +gift is not wont to break the giver’s head with it +straightway. The man is my brother, O stranger, and +presently, if thou wilt, thou mayst be eating at the same board +with him. Or if thou wilt, thou mayst go thy ways unhurt +into the wood. But I had liefer of the twain that thou wert +in our house to-night; for thou hast a wrong against +us.’</p> +<p>Her voice was sweet and clear, and she spake the last words +kindly, and drew somewhat nigher to Gold-mane. Therewithal +the smitten man sat up, and put his hand to his head, and quoth +he:</p> +<p>‘Angry is my sister! good it is to wear the helm abroad +when she shaketh the nut-trees.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said she, ‘it is thy luck that thou +wert bare-headed, else had I been forced to smite thee on the +face. Thou churl, since when hath it been our wont to +thrust knives into a guest, who is come of great kin, a man of +gentle heart and fair face? Come hither and handsel him +self-doom for thy fool’s onset!’</p> +<p><a name="page38"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 38</span>The man +rose to his feet and said: ‘Well, sister, least said, +soonest mended. A clout on the head is worse than a +woman’s chiding; but since ye have given me one, ye may +forbear the other.’</p> +<p>Therewith he drew near to them. He was a very big-made +man, most stalwarth, with dark red hair and a thin pointed beard; +his nose was straight and fine, his eyes grey and well-opened, +but somewhat fierce withal. Yet was he in nowise +evil-looking; he seemed some thirty summers old. He was +clad in a short scarlet kirtle, a goodly garment, with a hood of +like web pulled off his head on to his shoulders: he bore a great +gold ring on his left arm, and a collar of gold came down on to +his breast from under his hood.</p> +<p>As for the woman, she was clad in a long white linen smock, +and over it a short gown of dark blue woollen, and she had skin +shoes on her feet.</p> +<p>Now the man came up to Face-of-god, and took his hand and +said: ‘I deemed thee a foe, and I may not have over-many +foes alive: but it seems that thou art to be a friend, and that +is well and better; so herewith I handsel thee self-doom in the +matter of the onslaught.’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god laughed and said: ‘The doom is soon +given forth; against the tumble on the grass I set the clout on +the head; there is nought left over to pay to any man’s +son.’</p> +<p>Said the scarlet-clad man: ‘Belike by thine eyes thou +art a true man, and wilt not bewray me. Now is there no +foeman here, but rather maybe a friend both now and in time to +come.’ Therewith he cast his arms about Face-of-god +and kissed him. But Face-of-god turned about to the woman +and said: ‘Is the peace wholly made?’</p> +<p>She shook her head and said soberly: ‘Nay, thou art too +fair for a woman to kiss.’</p> +<p>He flushed red, as his wont was when a woman praised him; yet +was his heart full of pleasure and well-liking. But she +laid her hand on his shoulder and said: ‘Now is it for thee +to choose <a name="page39"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +39</span>betwixt the wild-wood and the hall, and whether thou +wilt be a guest or a wayfarer this night.’</p> +<p>As she touched him there took hold of him a sweetness of +pleasure he had never felt erst, and he answered: ‘I will +be thy guest and not thy stranger.’</p> +<p>‘Come then,’ she said, and took his hand in hers, +so that he scarce felt the earth under his feet, as they went all +three together toward the house in the gathering dusk, while +eastward where the peaks of the great mountains dipped was a +light that told of the rising of the moon.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI. OF FACE-OF-GOD AND THOSE +MOUNTAIN-DWELLERS.</h2> +<p>A <span class="smcap">yard</span> or two from the threshold +Gold-mane hung back a moment, entangled in some such misgiving as +a man is wont to feel when he is just about to do some new deed, +but is not yet deep in the story; his new friends noted that, for +they smiled each in their own way, and the woman drew her hand +away from his. Face-of-god held out his still as though to +take hers again, and therewithal he changed countenance and said +as though he had stayed but to ask that question:</p> +<p>‘Tell me thy name, tall man; and thou, fair woman, tell +me thine; for how can we talk together else?’</p> +<p>The man laughed outright and said: ‘The young chieftain +thinks that this house also should be his! Nay, young man, +I know what is in thy thought, be not ashamed that thou art wary; +and be assured! We shall hurt thee no more than thou hast +been hurt. Now as to my name; the name that was born with +me is gone: the name that was given me hath been taken from me: +now I belike must give myself a name, and that shall be +Wild-wearer; but it may be that thou thyself shalt one day give +me another, and call me Guest.’</p> +<p><a name="page40"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 40</span>His +sister gazed at him solemnly as he spoke, and Face-of-god +beholding her the while, deemed that her beauty grew and grew +till she seemed as aweful as a Goddess; and into his mind it came +that this over-strong man and over-lovely woman were nought +mortal, and they withal dealing with him as father and mother +deal with a wayward child: then for a moment his heart failed +him, and he longed for the peace of Burgdale, and even the lonely +wood. But therewith she turned to him and let her hand come +into his again, and looked kindly on him and said: ‘And as +for me, call me the Friend; the name is good and will serve for +many things.’</p> +<p>He looked down from her face and his eyes lighted on her hand, +and when he noted even amid the evening dusk how fair and lovely +it was fashioned, and yet as though it were deft in the crafts +that the daughters of menfolk use, his fear departed, and the +pleasure of his longing filled his heart, and he drew her hand to +him to kiss it; but she held it back. Then he said: +‘It is the custom of the Dale to all women.’</p> +<p>So she let him kiss her hand, heeding the kiss nothing, and +said soberly:</p> +<p>‘Then art thou of Burgdale, and if it were lawful to +guess, I would say that thy name is Face-of-god, of the House of +the Face.’</p> +<p>‘Even so it is,’ said he, ‘but in the Dale +those that love me do mostly call me Gold-mane.’</p> +<p>‘It is well named,’ she said, ‘and seldom +wilt thou be called otherwise, for thou wilt be +well-beloved. But come in now, Gold-mane, for night is at +hand, and here have we meat and lodging such as an hungry and +weary man may take; though we be broken people, dwellers in the +waste.’</p> +<p>Therewith she led him gently over the threshold into the hall, +and it seemed to him as if she were the fairest and the noblest +of all the Queens of ancient story.</p> +<p>When he was in the house he looked and saw that, rough as <a +name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 41</span>it was +without it lacked not fairness within. The floor was of +hard-trodden earth strewn with pine-twigs, and with here and +there brown bearskins laid on it: there was a standing table near +the upper end athwart the hall, and a days beyond that, but no +endlong table. Gold-mane looked to the shut-beds, and saw +that they were large and fair, though there were but a few of +them; and at the lower end was a loft for a sleeping chamber +dight very fairly with broidered cloths. The hangings on +the walls, though they left some places bare which were hung with +fresh boughs, were fairer than any he had ever seen, so that he +deemed that they must come from far countries and the City of +Cities: therein were images wrought of warriors and fair women of +old time and their dealings with the Gods and the Giants, and +Wondrous wights; and he deemed that this was the story of some +great kindred, and that their token and the sign of their banner +must needs be the Wood-wolf, for everywhere was it wrought in +these pictured webs. Perforce he looked long and earnestly +at these fair things, for the hall was not dark yet, because the +brands on the hearth were flaming their last, and when +Wild-wearer beheld him so gazing, he stood up and looked too for +a moment, and then smote his right hand on the hilt of his sword, +and turned away and strode up and down the hall as one in angry +thought.</p> +<p>But the woman, even the Friend, bestirred herself for the +service of the guest, and brought water for his hands and feet, +and when she had washed him, bore him the wine of Welcome and +drank to him and bade him drink; and he all the while was +shamefaced; for it was to him as if one of the Ladies of the +Heavenly Burg were doing him service. Then she went away by +a door at the lower end of the hall, and Wild-wearer came and sat +down by Gold-mane, and fell a-talking with him about the ways of +the Dalesmen, and their garths, and the pastures and growths +thereof; and what temper the carles themselves were of; which +were good men, which were ill, which was loved and which scorned; +no otherwise than if he had been the goodman of some neighbouring +<a name="page42"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 42</span>dale; and +Gold-mane told him whatso he knew, for he saw no harm +therein.</p> +<p>After a while the outer door opened, and there came in a woman +of some five-and-twenty winters, trimly and strongly built; +short-skirted she was and clad as a hunter, with a bow in her +hand and a quiver at her back: she unslung a pouch, which she +emptied at Wild-wearer’s feet of a leash of hares and two +brace of mountain grouse; of Face-of-god she took but little +heed.</p> +<p>Said Wild-wearer: ‘This is good for to-morrow, not for +to-day; the meat is well-nigh on the board.’</p> +<p>Then Gold-mane smiled, for he called to mind his home-coming +of yesterday. But the woman said:</p> +<p>‘The fault is not mine; she told me of the coming guest +but three hours agone.’</p> +<p>‘Ay?’ said Wild-wearer, ‘she looked for a +guest then?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, certes,’ said the woman, ‘else why +went I forth this afternoon, as wearied as I was with +yesterday?’</p> +<p>‘Well, well,’ said Wild-wearer, ‘get to thy +due work or go play; I meddle not with meat! and for thee all +jests are as bitter earnest.’</p> +<p>‘And with thee, chief,’ she said, ‘it is no +otherwise; surely I am made on thy model.’</p> +<p>‘Thy tongue is longer, friend,’ said he; +‘now tarry if thou wilt, and if the supper’s service +craveth thee not.’</p> +<p>She turned away with one keen look at Face-of-god, and +departed through the door at the lower end of the hall.</p> +<p>By this time the hall was dusk, for there were no candles +there, and the hearth-fire was but smouldering. Wild-wearer +sat silent and musing now, and Face-of-god spake not, for he was +deep in wild and happy dreams. At last the lower door +opened and the fair woman came into the hall with a torch in +either hand, after whom came the huntress, now clad in a dark +blue kirtle, and an old woman yet straight and hale; and these +twain bore in the victuals and the table-gear. Then the +three fell to dighting the <a name="page43"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 43</span>board, and when it was all ready, and +Gold-mane and Wild-wearer were set down to it, and with them the +fair woman and the huntress, the old woman threw good store of +fresh brands on the hearth, so that the light shone into every +corner; and even therewith the outer door opened, and four more +men entered, whereof one was old, but big and stalwarth, the +other three young: they were all clad roughly in sheep-brown +weed, but had helms upon their heads and spears in their hands +and great swords girt to their sides; and they seemed doughty men +and ready for battle. One of the young men cast down by the +door the carcass of a big-horned mountain sheep, and then they +all trooped off to the out-bower by the lower door, and came back +presently fairly clad and without their weapons. +Wild-wearer nodded to them kindly, and they sat at table paying +no more heed to Face-of-god than to cast him a nod for +salutation.</p> +<p>Then said the old woman to them: ‘Well, lads, have ye +been doing or sleeping?’</p> +<p>‘Sleeping, mother,’ said one of the young men, +‘as was but due after last night was, and to-morrow shall +be.’</p> +<p>Said the huntress: ‘Hold thy peace, Wood-wise, and let +thy tongue help thy teeth to deal with thy meat; for this is not +the talking hour.’</p> +<p>‘Nay, Bow-may,’ said another of the swains, +‘since here is a new man, now is the time to talk to +him.’</p> +<p>Said the huntress: ‘’Tis thine hands that talk +best, Wood-wont; it is not they that shall bring thee to +shame.’</p> +<p>Spake the third: ‘What have we to do with shame here, +far away from dooms and doomers, and elders, and wardens, and +guarded castles? If the new man listeth to speak, let him +speak; or to fight, then let him; it shall ever be man to +man.’</p> +<p>Then spake the old woman: ‘Son Wood-wicked, hold thy +peace, and forget the steel that ever eggeth thee on to +draw.’</p> +<p>Therewith she set the last matters on the board, while the +three swains sat and eyed Gold-mane somewhat fiercely, now that +<a name="page44"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 44</span>words had +stirred them, and he had sat there saying nothing, as one who was +better than they, and contemned them; but now spake +Wild-wearer:</p> +<p>‘Whoso hungreth let him eat! Whoso would slumber, +let him to bed. But he who would bicker, it must needs be +with me. Here is a man of the Dale, who hath sought the +wood in peace, and hath found us. His hand is ready and his +heart is guileless: if ye fear him, run away to the wood, and +come back when he is gone; but none shall mock him while I sit +by: now, lads, be merry and blithe with the guest.’</p> +<p>Then the young men greeted Gold-mane, and the old man said: +‘Art thou of Burgstead? then wilt thou be of the House of +the Face, and thy name will be Face-of-god; for that man is +called the fairest of the Dale, and there shall be none fairer +than thou.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god laughed and said: ‘There be but few mirrors +in Burgdale, and I have no mind to journey west to the cities to +see what manner of man I be: that were ill husbandry. But +now I have heard the names of the three swains, tell me thy name, +father!’</p> +<p>Spake the huntress: ‘This is my father’s brother, +and his name is Wood-father; or ye shall call him so: and I am +called Bow-may because I shoot well in the bow: and this old +carline is my eme’s wife, and now belike my mother, if I +need one. But thou, fair-faced Dalesman, little dost thou +need a mirror in the Dale so long as women abide there; for their +faces shall be instead of mirrors to tell thee whether thou be +fair and lovely.’</p> +<p>Thereat they all laughed and fell to their victual, which was +abundant, of wood-venison and mountain-fowl, but of bread was no +great plenty; wine lacked not, and that of the best; and +Gold-mane noted that the cups and the apparel of the horns and +mazers were not of gold nor gilded copper, but of silver; and he +marvelled thereat, for in the Dale silver was rare.</p> +<p>So they ate and drank, and Gold-mane looked ever on the +Friend, and spake much with her, and he deemed her friendly <a +name="page45"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 45</span>indeed, and +she seemed most pleased when he spoke best, and led him on to do +so. Wild-wearer was but of few words, and those somewhat +harsh; yet was he as a man striving to be courteous and blithe; +but of the others Bow-may was the greatest speaker.</p> +<p>Wild-wearer called healths to the Sun, and the Moon, and the +Hosts of Heaven; to the Gods of the Earth; to the Woodwights; and +to the Guest. Other healths also he called, the meaning of +which was dark to Gold-mane; to wit, the Jaws of the Wolf; the +Silver Arm; the Red Hand; the Golden Bushel; and the Ragged +Sword. But when he asked the Friend concerning these names +what they might signify, she shook her head and answered not.</p> +<p>At last Wild-wearer cried out: ‘Now, lads, the night +weareth and the guest is weary: therefore whoso of you hath in +him any minstrelsy, now let him make it, for later on it shall be +over-late.’</p> +<p>Then arose Wood-wont and went to his shut-bed and groped +therein, and took from out of it a fiddle in its case; and he +opened the case and drew from it a very goodly fiddle, and he +stood on the floor amidst of the hall and Bow-may his cousin with +him; and he laid his bow on the fiddle and woke up song in it, +and when it was well awake she fell a-singing, and he to +answering her song, and at the last all they of the house sang +together; and this is the meaning of the words which they +sang:</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>She singeth</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Now is the rain upon the day,<br /> + And every water’s wide;<br /> +Why busk ye then to wear the way,<br /> + And whither will ye ride?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>He singeth</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Our kine are on the eyot still,<br /> + The eddies lap them round;<br /> +<a name="page46"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 46</span>All dykes +the wind-worn waters fill,<br /> + And waneth grass and ground.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>She singeth</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">O ride ye to the river’s brim<br /> + In war-weed fair to see?<br /> +Or winter waters will ye swim<br /> + In hauberks to the knee?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>He singeth</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Wild is the day, and dim with rain,<br /> + Our sheep are warded ill;<br /> +The wood-wolves gather for the plain,<br /> + Their ravening maws to fill.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>She singeth</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Nay, what is this, and what have ye,<br /> + A hunter’s band, to bear<br /> +The Banner of our Battle-glee<br /> + The skulking wolves to scare?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>He singeth</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">O women, when we wend our ways<br /> + To deal with death and dread,<br /> +The Banner of our Fathers’ Days<br /> + Must flap the wind o’erhead.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>She singeth</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Ah, for the maidens that ye leave!<br /> + Who now shall save the hay?<br /> +What grooms shall kiss our lips at eve,<br /> + When June hath mastered May?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>He singeth</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">The wheat is won, the seed is sown,<br /> + Here toileth many a maid,<br /> +<a name="page47"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 47</span>And ere +the hay knee-deep hath grown<br /> + Your grooms the grass shall wade.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>They sing all together</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Then fair befall the mountain-side<br /> + Whereon the play shall be!<br /> +And fair befall the summer-tide<br /> + That whoso lives shall see.</p> +<p>Face-of-god thought the song goodly, but to the others it was +well known. Then said Wood-father:</p> +<p>‘O foster-son, thy foster-brother hath sung well for a +wood abider; but we are deeming that his singing shall be but as +a starling to a throstle matched against thy new-come +guest. Therefore, Dalesman, sing us a song of the Dale, and +if ye will, let it be of gardens and pleasant houses of stone, +and fair damsels therein, and swains with them who toil not +over-much for a scant livelihood, as do they of the waste, whose +heads may not be seen in the Holy Places.’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘Father, it is ill to set the words of a +lonely man afar from his kin against the song that cometh from +the heart of a noble house; yet may I not gainsay thee, but will +sing to thee what I may call to mind, and it is called the Song +of the Ford.’</p> +<p>Therewith he sang in a sweet and clear voice: and this is the +meaning of his words:</p> +<p class="poetry">In hay-tide, through the day new-born,<br /> + Across the meads we come;<br /> +Our hauberks brush the blossomed corn<br /> + A furlong short of home.</p> +<p class="poetry">Ere yet the gables we behold<br /> + Forth flasheth the red sun,<br /> +And smites our fallow helms and cold<br /> + Though all the fight be done.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page48"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +48</span>In this last mend of mowing-grass<br /> + Sweet doth the clover smell,<br /> +Crushed neath our feet red with the pass<br /> + Where hell was blent with hell.</p> +<p class="poetry">And now the willowy stream is nigh,<br /> + Down wend we to the ford;<br /> +No shafts across its fishes fly,<br /> + Nor flasheth there a sword.</p> +<p class="poetry">But lo! what gleameth on the bank<br /> + Across the water wan,<br /> +As when our blood the mouse-ear drank<br /> + And red the river ran?</p> +<p class="poetry">Nay, hasten to the ripple clear,<br /> + Look at the grass beyond!<br /> +Lo ye the dainty band and dear<br /> + Of maidens fair and fond!</p> +<p class="poetry">Lo how they needs must take the stream!<br /> + The water hides their feet;<br /> +On fair kind arms the gold doth gleam,<br /> + And midst the ford we meet.</p> +<p class="poetry">Up through the garden two and two,<br /> + And on the flowers we drip;<br /> +Their wet feet kiss the morning dew<br /> + As lip lies close to lip.</p> +<p class="poetry">Here now we sing; here now we stay:<br /> + By these grey walls we tell<br /> +The love that lived from out the fray,<br /> + The love that fought and fell.</p> +<p>When he was done they all said that he had sung well, and <a +name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 49</span>that the song +was sweet. Yet did Wild-wearer smile somewhat; and Bow-may +said outright: ‘Soft is the song, and hath been made by +lads and minstrels rather than by warriors.’</p> +<p>‘Nay, kinswoman,’ said Wood-father, ‘thou +art hard to please; the guest is kind, and hath given us that I +asked for, and I give him all thanks therefor.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god smiled, but he heeded little what they said, for +as he sang he had noted that the Friend looked kindly on him; and +he thought he saw that once or twice she put out her hand as if +to touch him, but drew it back again each time. She spake +after a little and said:</p> +<p>‘Here now hath been a stream of song running betwixt the +Mountain and the Dale even as doth a river; and this is good to +come between our dreams of what hath been and what shall +be.’ Then she turned to Gold-mane, and said to him +scarce loud enough for all to hear:</p> +<p>‘Herewith I bid thee good-night, O Dalesman; and this +other word I have to thee: heed not what befalleth in the night, +but sleep thy best, for nought shall be to thy scathe. And +when thou wakest in the morning, if we are yet here, it is well; +but if we are not, then abide us no long while, but break thy +fast on the victual thou wilt find upon the board, and so depart +and go thy ways home. And yet thou mayst look to it to see +us again before thou diest.’</p> +<p>Therewith she held out her hand to him, and he took it and +kissed it; and she went to her chamber-aloft at the lower end of +the hall. And when she was gone, once more he had a deeming +of her that she was of the kindred of the Gods. At her +departure him-seemed that the hall grew dull and small and smoky, +and the night seemed long to him and doubtful the coming of the +day.</p> +<h2><a name="page50"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +50</span>CHAPTER VII. FACE-OF-GOD TALKETH WITH THE FRIEND +ON THE MOUNTAIN.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">So</span> now went all men to bed; and +Face-to-god’s shut-bed was over against the outer door and +toward the lower end of the hall, and on the panel about it hung +the weapons and shields of men. Fair was that chamber and +roomy, and the man was weary despite his eagerness, so that he +went to sleep as soon as his head touched the pillow; but within +a while (he deemed about two hours after midnight) he was awaked +by the clattering of the weapons against the panel, and the sound +of men’s hands taking them down; and when he was fully +awake, he heard withal men going up and down the house as if on +errands: but he called to mind what the Friend had said to him, +and he did not so much as turn himself toward the hall; for he +said: ‘Belike these men are outlaws and Wolves of the Holy +Places, yet by seeming they are good fellows and nought churlish, +nor have I to do with taking up the feud against them. I +will abide the morning. Yet meseemeth that she drew me +hither: for what cause?’</p> +<p>Therewith he fell asleep again, and dreamed no more. But +when he awoke the sun was shining broad upon the hall-floor, and +he sat up and listened, but could hear no sound save the moaning +of the wind in the pine-boughs and the chatter of the starlings +about the gables of the house; and the place seemed so exceeding +lonely to him that he was in a manner feared by that +loneliness.</p> +<p>Then he arose and clad himself, and went forth into the hall +and gazed about him, and at first he deemed indeed that there was +no one therein. But at last he looked and beheld the upper +gable and there underneath a most goodly hanging was the glorious +shape of a woman sitting on a bench covered over with a cloth of +gold and silver; and he looked and looked to see if the woman +might stir, and if she were alive, and she turned her head toward +him, and lo it was the Friend; and his heart rose to his mouth +for wonder and fear and desire. For now he doubted whether +the <a name="page51"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 51</span>other +folk were aught save shows and shadows, and she the Goddess who +had fashioned them out of nothing for his bewilderment, presently +to return to nothing.</p> +<p>Yet whatever he might fear or doubt, he went up the hall +towards her till he was quite nigh to her, and there he stood +silent, wondering at her beauty and desiring her kindness.</p> +<p>Grey-eyed she was like her brother; but her hair the colour of +red wheat: her lips full and red, her chin round, her nose fine +and straight. Her hands and all her body fashioned +exceeding sweetly and delicately; yet not as if she were an image +of which the like might be found if the craftsman were but deft +enough to make a perfect thing, but in such a way that there was +none like to her for those that had eyes to behold her as she +was; and none could ever be made like to her, even by such a +master-craftsman as could fashion a body without a blemish.</p> +<p>She was clad in a white smock, whose hems were broidered with +gold wire and precious gems of the Mountains, and over that a +gown woven of gold and silver: scarce hath the world such +another. On her head was a fillet of gold and gems, and +there were wondrous gold rings on her arms: her feet lay bare on +the dark grey wolf-skin that was stretched before her.</p> +<p>She smiled kindly upon his solemn and troubled face, and her +voice sounded strangely familiar to him coming from all that +loveliness, as she said: ‘Hail, Face-of-god! here am I left +alone, although I deemed last night that I should be gone with +the others. Therefore am I fain to show myself to thee in +fairer array than yesternight; for though we dwell in the +wild-wood, from the solace of folk, yet are we not of +thralls’ blood. But come now, I bid thee break thy +fast and talk with me a little while; and then shalt thou depart +in peace.’</p> +<p>Spake Face-of-god, and his voice trembled as he spake: +‘What art thou? Last night I deemed at whiles once +and again that thou wert of the Gods; and now that I behold thee +thus, and it is broad daylight, and of those others is no more to +be seen <a name="page52"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +52</span>than if they had never lived, I cannot but deem that it +is even so, and that thou comest from the City that shall never +perish. Now if thou be a goddess, I have nought to pray +thee, save to slay me speedily if thou hast a mind for my +death. But if thou art a woman—’</p> +<p>She broke in: ‘Gold-mane, stay thy prayer and hold thy +peace for this time, lest thou repent when repentance availeth +not. And this I say because I am none of the Gods nor akin +to them, save far off through the generations, as art thou also, +and all men of goodly kindred. Now I bid thee eat thy meat, +since ’tis ill talking betwixt a full man and a fasting; +and I have dight it myself with mine own hands; for Bow-may and +the Wood-mother went away with the rest three hours before +dawn. Come sit and eat as thou hast a hardy heart; as +forsooth thou shouldest do if I were a very goddess. Take +heed, friend, lest I take thee for some damsel of the lower Dale +arrayed in Earl’s garments.’</p> +<p>She laughed therewith, and leaned toward him and put forth her +hand to him, and he took it and caressed it; and the exceeding +beauty of her body and of the raiment which was as it were a part +of her and her loveliness, made her laughter and her friendly +words strange to him, as if one did not belong to the other; as +in a dream it might be. Nevertheless he did as she bade +him, and sat at the board and ate, while she leaned forward on +the arm of her chair and spake to him in friendly wise. And +he wondered as she spake that she knew so much of him and his: +and he kept saying to himself: ‘She drew me hither; +wherefore did she so?’</p> +<p>But she said: ‘Gold-mane, how fareth thy father the +Alderman? is he as good a wright as ever?’</p> +<p>He told her: Yea, that ever was his hammer on the iron, the +copper, and the gold, and that no wright in the Dale was as deft +as he.</p> +<p>Said she: ‘Would he not have had thee seek to the +Cities, to see the ways of the outer world?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said he.</p> +<p><a name="page53"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 53</span>She +said: ‘Thou wert wise to naysay that offer; thou shalt have +enough to do in the Dale and round about it in twelve +months’ time.’</p> +<p>‘Art thou foresighted?’ said he.</p> +<p>‘Folk have called me so,’ she said, ‘but I +wot not. But thy brother Hall-face, how fareth +he?’</p> +<p>‘Well;’ said he, ‘to my deeming he is the +Sword of our House, and the Warrior of the Dale, if the days were +ready for him.’</p> +<p>‘And Stone-face, that stark ancient,’ she said, +‘doth he still love the Folk of the Dale, and hate all +other folks?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ he said, ‘I know not that, but I know +that he loveth as, and above all me and my father.’</p> +<p>Again she spake: ‘How fareth the Bride, the fair maid to +whom thou art affianced?’</p> +<p>As she spake, it was to him as if his heart was stricken cold; +but he put a force upon himself, and neither reddened nor +whitened, nor changed countenance in any way; so he answered:</p> +<p>‘She was well the eve of yesterday.’ Then he +remembered what she was, and her beauty and valour, and he +constrained himself to say: ‘Each day she groweth fairer; +there is no man’s son and no daughter of woman that does +not love her; yea, the very beasts of field and fold love +her.’</p> +<p>The Friend looked at him steadily and spake no word, but a red +flush mounted to her cheeks and brow and changed her face; and he +marvelled thereat; for still he misdoubted that she was a +Goddess. But it passed away in a moment, and she smiled and +said:</p> +<p>‘Guest, thou seemest to wonder that I know concerning +thee and the Dale and thy kindred. But now shalt thou wot +that I have been in the Dale once and again, and my brother +oftener still; and that I have seen thee before +yesterday.’</p> +<p>‘That is marvellous,’ quoth he, ‘for sure am +I that I have not seen thee.’</p> +<p><a name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +54</span>‘Yet thou hast seen me,’ she said; +‘yet not altogether as I am now;’ and therewith she +smiled on him friendly.</p> +<p>‘How is this?’ said he; ‘art thou a +skin-changer?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, in a fashion,’ she said. +‘Hearken! dost thou perchance remember a day of last summer +when there was a market holden in Burgstead; and there stood in +the way over against the House of the Face a tall old carle who +was trucking deer-skins for diverse gear; and with him was a +queen, tall and dark-skinned, somewhat well-liking, her hair +bound up in a white coif so that none of it could be seen; by the +token that she had a large stone of mountain blue set in silver +stuck in the said coif?’</p> +<p>As she spoke she set her hand to her bosom and drew something +from it, and held forth her hand to Gold-mane, and lo amidst the +palm the great blue stone set in silver.</p> +<p>‘Wondrous as a dream is this,’ said Face-of-god, +‘for these twain I remember well, and what +followed.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘I will tell thee that. There came a man +of the Shepherd-Folk, drunk or foolish, or both, who began to +chaffer with the big carle; but ever on the queen were his eyes +set, and presently he put forth his hand to her to clip her, +whereon the big carle hove up his fist and smote him, so that he +fell to earth noseling. Then ran the folk together to hale +off the stranger and help the shepherd, and it was like that the +stranger should be mishandled. Then there thrust through +the press a young man with yellow hair and grey eyes, who cried +out, “Fellows, let be! The stranger had the right of +it; this is no matter to make a quarrel or a court case of. +Let the market go on! This man and maid are true +folk.” So when the folk heard the young man and his +bidding, they forebore and let the carle and the queen be, and +the shepherd went his ways little hurt. Now then, who was +this young man?’</p> +<p>Quoth Gold-mane: ‘It was even I, and meseemeth it was no +great deed to do.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and the big carle was my +brother, and the tall queen, it was myself.’</p> +<p><a name="page55"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +55</span>‘How then,’ said he, ‘for she was as +dark-skinned as a dwarf, and thou so bright and fair?’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Well, if the woods are good for nothing else, +yet are they good for the growing of herbs, and I know the craft +of simpling; and with one of these herbs had I stained my skin +and my brother’s also. And it showed the darker +beneath the white coif.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said he, ‘but why must ye needs fare +in feigned shapes? Ye would have been welcome guests in the +Dale howsoever ye had come.’</p> +<p>‘I may not tell thee hereof as now,’ said she.</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘Yet thou mayst belike tell me wherefore +was that thy brother desired to slay me yesterday, if he knew me, +who I was.’</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane,’ she said, ‘thou art not slain, +so little story need be made of that: for the rest, belike he +knew thee not at that moment. So it falls with us, that we +look to see foes rather than friends in the wild-woods. +Many uncouth things are therein. Moreover, I must tell thee +of my brother that whiles he is as the stalled bull late let +loose, and nothing is good to him save battle and onset; and then +is he blind and knows not friend from foe.’ Said +Face-of-god: ‘Thou hast asked of me and mine; wilt thou not +tell me of thee and thine?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘not as now; thou must +betake thee to the way. Whither wert thou wending when thou +happenedst upon us?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘I know not; I was seeking something, but I +knew not what—meseemeth that now I have found +it.’</p> +<p>‘Art thou for the great mountains seeking gems?’ +she said. ‘Yet go not thither to-day: for who knoweth +what thou shalt meet there that shall be thy foe?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Nay, nay; I have nought to do but to abide +here as long as I may, looking upon thee and hearkening to thy +voice.’</p> +<p>Her eyes were upon his, but yet she did not seem to see him, +and for a while she answered not; and still he wondered that mere +words should come from so fair a thing; for whether she moved <a +name="page56"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 56</span>foot, or +hand, or knee, or turned this way or that, each time she stirred +it was a caress to his very heart.</p> +<p>He spake again: ‘May I not abide here a while? +What scathe may be in that?’</p> +<p>‘It is not so,’ she said; ‘thou must depart, +and that straightway: lo, there lieth thy spear which the +Wood-mother hath brought in from the waste. Take thy gear +to thee and wend thy ways. Have patience! I will lead +thee to the place where we first met and there give thee +farewell.’</p> +<p>Therewith she arose and he also perforce, and when they came +to the doorway she stepped across the threshold and then turned +back and gave him her hand and so led him forth, the sun flashing +back from her golden raiment. Together they went over the +short grey grass of that hillside till they came to the place +where he had arisen from that wrestle with her brother. +There she stayed him and said:</p> +<p>‘This is the place; here must we part.’</p> +<p>But his heart failed him and he faltered in his speech as he +said:</p> +<p>‘When shall I see thee again? Wilt thou slay me if +I seek to thee hither once more?’</p> +<p>‘Hearken,’ she said, ‘autumn is now a-dying +into winter: let winter and its snows go past: nor seek to me +hither; for me thou should’st not find, but thy death thou +mightest well fall in with; and I would not that thou shouldest +die. When winter is gone, and spring is on the land, if +thou hast not forgotten us thou shalt meet us again. Yet +shalt thou go further than this Woodland Hall. In Shadowy +Vale shalt thou seek to me then, and there will I talk with +thee.’</p> +<p>‘And where,’ said he, ‘is Shadowy Vale? for +thereof have I never heard tell.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘The token when it cometh to thee shall show +thee thereof and the way thither. Art thou a babbler, +Gold-mane?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘I have won no prize for babbling +hitherto.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘If thou listest to babble concerning what +hath befallen <a name="page57"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +57</span>thee on the Mountain, so do, and repent it once only, +that is, thy life long.’</p> +<p>‘Why should I say any word thereof?’ said +he. ‘Dost thou not know the sweetness of such a tale +untold?’</p> +<p>He spake as one who is somewhat wrathful, and she answered +humbly and kindly:</p> +<p>‘Well is that. Bide thou the token that shall lead +thee to Shadowy Vale. Farewell now.’</p> +<p>She drew her hand from his, and turned and went her ways +swiftly to the house: he could not choose but gaze on her as she +went glittering-bright and fair in that grey place of the +mountains, till the dark doorway swallowed up her beauty. +Then he turned away and took the path through the pine-woods, +muttering to himself as he went:</p> +<p>‘What thing have I done now that hitherto I had not +done? What manner of man am I to-day other than the man I +was yesterday?’</p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII. FACE-OF-GOD COMETH HOME AGAIN TO +BURGSTEAD.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Face-of-God</span> went back through the +wood by the way he had come, paying little heed to the things +about him. For whatever he thought of strayed not one whit +from the image of the Fair Woman of the Mountain-side.</p> +<p>He went through the wood swiftlier than yesterday, and made no +stay for noon or aught else, nor did he linger on the road when +he was come into the Dale, either to speak to any or to note what +they did. So he came to the House of the Face about dusk, +and found no man within the hall either carle or queen. So +he cried out on the folk, and there came in a damsel of the +house, whom he greeted kindly and she him again. He bade +her bring the washing-water, and she did so and washed his feet +and his <a name="page58"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +58</span>hands. She was a fair maid enough, as were most in +the Dale, but he heeded her little; and when she was done he +kissed not her cheek for her pains, as his wont was, but let her +go her ways unthanked. But he went to his shut-bed and +opened his chest, and drew fair raiment from it, and did off his +wood-gear, and did on him a goodly scarlet kirtle fairly +broidered, and a collar with gems of price therein, and other +braveries. And when he was so attired he came out into the +hall, and there was old Stone-face standing by the hearth, which +was blazing brightly with fresh brands, so that things were clear +to see.</p> +<p>Stone-face noted Gold-mane’s gay raiment, for he was not +wont to wear such attire, save on the feasts and high days when +he behoved to. So the old man smiled and said:</p> +<p>‘Welcome back from the Wood! But what is it? +Hast thou been wedded there, or who hath made thee Earl and +King?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Foster-father, sooth it is that I +have been to the wood, but there have I seen nought of manfolk +worse than myself. Now as to my raiment, needs must I keep +it from the moth. And I am weary withal, and this kirtle is +light and easy to me. Moreover, I look to see the Bride +here again, and I would pleasure her with the sight of gay +raiment upon me.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Stone-face, ‘hast thou not seen +some woman in the wood arrayed like the image of a God? and hath +she not bidden thee thus to worship her to-night? For I +know that such wights be in the wood, and that such is their +wont.’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘I worship nought save the Gods and the +Fathers. Nor saw I in the wood any such as thou +sayest.’</p> +<p>Therewith Stone-face shook his head; but after a while he +said:</p> +<p>‘Art thou for the wood to-morrow?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Gold-mane angrily, knitting his +brows.</p> +<p>‘The morrow of to-morrow,’ said Stone-face, +‘is the day when we look to see the Westland merchants: +after all, wilt thou not go hence with them when they wend their +ways back before the first snows fall?’</p> +<p><a name="page59"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +59</span>‘Nay,’ said he, ‘I have no mind to it, +fosterer; cease egging me on hereto.’</p> +<p>Then Stone-face shook his head again, and looked on him long, +and muttered: ‘To the wood wilt thou go to-morrow or next +day; or some day when doomed is thine undoing.’</p> +<p>Therewith entered the service and torches, and presently after +came the Alderman with Hall-face; and Iron-face greeted his son +and said to him: ‘Thou hast not hit the time to do on thy +gay raiment, for the Bride will not be here to-night; she bideth +still at the Feast at the Apple-tree House: or wilt thou be +there, son?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘I am +over-weary. And as for my raiment, it is well; it is for +thine honour and the honour of the name.’</p> +<p>So to table they went, and Iron-face asked his son of his ways +again, and whether he was quite fixed in his mind not to go down +to the Plain and the Cities: ‘For,’ said he, +‘the morrow of to-morrow shall the merchants be here, and +this were great news for them if the son of the Alderman should +be their faring-fellow back.’</p> +<p>But Face-of-god answered without any haste or heat: +‘Nay, father, it may not be: fear not, thou shalt see that +I have a good will to work and live in the Dale.’</p> +<p>And in good sooth, though he was a young man and loved mirth +and the ways of his own will, he was a stalwarth workman, and few +could mow a match with him in the hay-month and win it; or fell +trees as certainly and swiftly, or drive as straight and clean a +furrow through the stiff land of the lower Dale; and in other +matters also was he deft and sturdy.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX. THOSE BRETHREN FARE TO THE YEWWOOD WITH THE +BRIDE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Next</span> morning Face-of-god dight +himself for work, and took his axe; for his brother Hall-face had +bidden him go down with him to the Yew-wood and cut timber there, +<a name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 60</span>since he +of all men knew where to go straight to the sticks that would +quarter best for bow-staves; whereas the Alderman had the right +of hewing in that wood. So they went forth, those brethren, +from the House of the Face, but when they were gotten to the +gate, who should be there but the Bride awaiting them, and she +with an ass duly saddled for bearing the yew-sticks. +Because Hall-face had told her that he and belike Gold-mane were +going to hew in the wood, and she thought it good to be of the +company, as oft had befallen erst. When they met she +greeted Face-of-god and kissed him as her wont was; and he looked +upon her and saw how fair she was, and how kind and friendly were +her eyes that beheld him, and how her whole face was eager for +him as their lips parted. Then his heart failed him, when +he knew that he no longer desired her as she did him, and he said +within himself:</p> +<p>‘Would that she had been of our nighest kindred! +Would that I had had a sister and that this were she!’</p> +<p>So the three went along the highway down the Dale, and +Hall-face and the Bride talked merrily together and laughed, for +she was happy, since she knew that Gold-mane had been to the wood +and was back safe and much as he had been before. So indeed +it seemed of him; for though at first he was moody and of few +words, yet presently he cursed himself for a mar-sport, and so +fell into the talk, and enforced himself to be merry; and soon he +was so indeed; for he thought: ‘She drew me thither: she +hath a deed for me to do. I shall do the deed and have my +reward. Soon will the spring-tide be here, and I shall be a +young man yet when it comes.’</p> +<p>So came they to the place where he had met the three maidens +yesterday; there they also turned from the highway; and as they +went down the bent, Gold-mane could not but turn his eyes on the +beauty of the Bride and the lovely ways of her body: but +presently he remembered all that had betid, and turned away again +as one who is noting what it behoves him not to note. And +he said to himself: ‘Where art thou, Gold-mane? Whose +art thou? <a name="page61"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +61</span>Yea, even if that had been but a dream that I have +dreamed, yet would that this fair woman were my +sister!’</p> +<p>So came they to the Yew-wood, and the brethren fell to work, +and the Bride with them, for she was deft with the axe and strong +withal. But at midday they rested on the green slope +without the Yew-wood; and they ate bread and flesh and onions and +apples, and drank red wine of the Dale. And while they were +resting after their meat, the Bride sang to them, and her song +was a lay of time past; and here ye have somewhat of it:</p> +<p class="poetry">’Tis over the hill and over the dale<br +/> + Men ride from the city fast and far,<br /> +If they may have a soothfast tale,<br /> + True tidings of the host of war.</p> +<p class="poetry">And first they hap on men-at-arms,<br /> + All clad in steel from head to foot:<br /> +Now tell true tale of the new-come harms,<br /> + And the gathered hosts of the mountain-root.</p> +<p class="poetry">Fair sirs, from murder-carles we flee,<br /> + Whose fashion is as the mountain-trolls’;<br +/> +No man can tell how many they be,<br /> + And the voice of their host as the thunder +rolls.</p> +<p class="poetry">They were weary men at the ending of day,<br /> + But they spurred nor stayed for longer word.<br /> +Now ye, O merchants, whither away?<br /> + What do ye there with the helm and the sword?</p> +<p class="poetry">O we must fight for life and gear,<br /> + For our beasts are spent and our wains are +stayed,<br /> +And the host of the Mountain-men draws near,<br /> + That maketh all the world afraid.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page62"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +62</span>They left the chapmen on the hill,<br /> + And through the eve and through the night<br /> +They rode to have true tidings still,<br /> + And were there on the way when the dawn was +bright.</p> +<p class="poetry">O damsels fair, what do ye then<br /> + To loiter thus upon the way,<br /> +And have no fear of the Mountain-men,<br /> + The host of the carles that strip and slay?</p> +<p class="poetry">O riders weary with the road,<br /> + Come eat and drink on the grass hereby!<br /> +And lay you down in a fair abode<br /> + Till the midday sun is broad and high;</p> +<p class="poetry">Then unto you shall we come aback,<br /> + And lead you forth to the Mountain-men,<br /> +To note their plenty and their lack,<br /> + And have true tidings there and then.</p> +<p class="poetry">’Tis over the hill and over the dale<br +/> + They ride from the mountain fast and far;<br /> +And now have they learned a soothfast tale,<br /> + True tidings of the host of war.</p> +<p class="poetry">It was summer-tide and the Month of Hay,<br /> + And men and maids must fare afield;<br /> +But we saw the place were the bow-staves lay,<br /> + And the hall was hung with spear and shield.</p> +<p class="poetry">When the moon was high we drank in the hall,<br +/> + And they drank to the guests and were kind and +blithe,<br /> +And they said: Come back when the chestnuts fall,<br /> + And the wine-carts wend across the hythe.</p> +<p class="poetry">Come oft and o’er again, they said;<br /> + Wander your ways; but we abide<br /> +<a name="page63"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 63</span>For all +the world in the little stead;<br /> + For wise are we, though the world be wide.</p> +<p class="poetry">Yea, come in arms if ye will, they said;<br /> + And despite your host shall we abide<br /> +For life or death in the little stead;<br /> + For wise are we, though the world be wide.</p> +<p>So she made an end and looked at the fairness of the dale +spreading wide before her, and a robin came nigh from out of a +thorn-bush and sung his song also, the sweet herald of coming +winter; and the lapwings wheeled about, black and white, above +the meadow by the river, sending forth their wheedling pipe as +they hung above the soft turf.</p> +<p>She felt the brothers near her, and knew their friendliness +from of old, and she was happy; nor had she looked closer at +Gold-mane would she have noted any change in him belike; for the +meat and the good wine, and the fair sunny time, and the +Bride’s sweet voice, and the ancient song softened his +heart while it fed the desire therein.</p> +<p>So in a while they arose from their rest and did what was left +them of their work, and so went back to Burgstead through the +fair afternoon; by seeming all three in all content. But +yet Gold-mane, as from time to time he looked upon the Bride, +kept saying to himself: ‘O if she had been but my sister! +sweet had the kinship been!’</p> +<h2>CHAPTER X. NEW TIDINGS IN THE DALE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was three days thereafter that +Gold-mane, leading an ass, went along the highway to fetch home +certain fleeces which were needed for the house from a stead a +little west of Wildlake; but he had gone scant half a mile ere he +fell in with a <a name="page64"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +64</span>throng of folk going to Burgstead. They were of +the Shepherds; they had weapons with them, and some were clad in +coats of fence. They went along making a great noise, for +they were all talking each to each at the same time, and seemed +very hot and eager about some matter. When they saw +Gold-mane anigh, they stopped, and the throng opened as if to let +him into their midmost; so he mingled with them, and they stood +in a ring about him and an old man more ill-favoured than it was +the wont of the Dalesmen to be.</p> +<p>For he was long, stooping, gaunt and spindle-shanked, his +hands big and crippled with gout: his cheeks were red after an +old man’s fashion, covered with a crimson network like a +pippin; his lips thin and not well hiding his few teeth; his nose +long like a snipe’s neb. In short, a shame and a +laughing-stock to the Folk, and a man whom the kindreds had in +small esteem, and that for good reasons.</p> +<p>Face-of-god knew him at once for a notable close-fist and +starve-all fool of the Shepherds; and his name was now become +Penny-thumb the Lean, whatever it might once have been.</p> +<p>So Face-of-god greeted all men, and they him again; and he +said: ‘What aileth you, neighbours? Your weapons, are +bare, but I see not that they be bloody. What is it, +goodman Penny-thumb?’</p> +<p>Penny-thumb did but groan for all answer; but a stout carle +who stood by with a broad grin on his face answered and said:</p> +<p>‘Face-of-god, evil tidings be abroad; the strong-thieves +of the wood are astir; and some deem that the wood-wights be +helping them.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, and what is the deed they have done?’ said +Gold-mane.</p> +<p>Said the carle: ‘Thou knowest Penny-thumb’s +abode?’</p> +<p>‘Yea surely,’ said Face-of-god; ‘fair are +the water-meadows about it; great gain of cheese can be gotten +thence.’</p> +<p>‘Hast thou been within the house?’ said the +carle.</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Gold-mane.</p> +<p><a name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 65</span>Then +spake Penny-thumb: ‘Within is scant gear: we gather for +others to scatter; we make meat for others’ +mouths.’</p> +<p>The carle laughed: ‘Sooth is that,’ said he, +‘that there is little gear therein now; for the +strong-thieves have voided both hall and bower and +byre.’</p> +<p>‘And when was that?’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘The night before last night,’ said the carle, +‘the door was smitten on, and when none answered it was +broken down.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ quoth Penny-thumb, ‘a host entered, +and they in arms.’</p> +<p>‘No host was within,’ said the carle, +‘nought but Penny-thumb and his sister and his +sister’s son, and three carles that work for him; and one +of them, Rusty to wit, was the worst man of the +hill-country. These then the host whereof the goodman +telleth bound, but without doing them any scathe; and they +ransacked the house, and took away much gear; yet left +some.’</p> +<p>‘Thou liest,’ said Penny-thumb; ‘they took +little and left none.’</p> +<p>Thereat all men laughed, for this seemed to them good game, +and another man said: ‘Well, neighbour Penny-thumb, if it +was so little, thou hast done unneighbourly in giving us such a +heap of trouble about it.’</p> +<p>And they laughed again, but the first carle said: ‘True +it is, goodman, that thou wert exceeding eager to raise the hue +and cry after that little when we happed upon thee and thy +housemates bound in your chairs yesterday morning. Well, +Alderman’s son, short is the tale to tell: we could not +fail to follow the gear, and the slot led us into the wood, and +ill is the going there for us shepherds, who are used to the bare +downs, save Rusty, who was a good woodsman and lifted the slot +for us; so he outwent us all, and ran out of sight of us, so +presently we came upon him dead-slain, with the manslayer’s +spear in his breast. What then could we do but turn back +again, for now was the wood blind now Rusty was dead, and we knew +not whither to follow the fray; and the man himself was but +little loss: so back we turned, and told goodman Penny-thumb of +all this, for we had left him <a name="page66"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 66</span>alone in his hall lamenting his gear; +so we bided to-day’s morn, and have come out now, with our +neighbour and the spear, and the dead corpse of Rusty. +Stand aside, neighbours, and let the Alderman’s son see +it.’</p> +<p>They did so, and there was the corpse of a thin-faced tall +wiry man, somewhat foxy of aspect, lying on a hand-bier covered +with black cloth.</p> +<p>‘Yea, Face-of-god,’ said the carle, ‘he is +not good to see now he is dead, yet alive was he worser: but, +look you, though the man was no good man, yet was he of our +people, and the feud is with us; so we would see the Alderman, +and do him to wit of the tidings, that he may call the neighbours +together to seek a blood-wite for Rusty and atonement for the +ransacking. Or what sayest thou?’</p> +<p>‘Have ye the spear that ye found in Rusty?’ quoth +Gold-mane.</p> +<p>‘Yea verily,’ said the carle. ‘Hither +with it, neighbours; give it to the Alderman’s +son.’</p> +<p>So the spear came into his hand, and he looked at it and +said:</p> +<p>‘This is no spear of the smiths’ work of the Dale, +as my father will tell you. We take but little keep of the +forging of spearheads here, so that they be well-tempered and +made so as to ride well on the shaft; but this head, daintily is +it wrought, the blood-trench as clean and trim as though it were +an Earl’s sword. See you withal this inlaying of +runes on the steel? It is done with no tin or copper, but +with very silver; and these bands about the shaft be of silver +also. It is a fair weapon, and the owner hath a loss of it +greater than his gain in the slaying of Rusty; and he will have +left it in the wound so that he might be known hereafter, and +that he might be said not to have murdered Rusty but to have +slain him. Or how think ye?’</p> +<p>They all said that this seemed like to be; but that if the man +who had slain Rusty were one of the ransackers they might have a +blood-wite of him, if they could find him. Gold-mane said +that so it was, and therewithal he gave the shepherds good-speed +and went on his way.</p> +<p><a name="page67"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 67</span>But +they came to Burgstead and found the Alderman, and in due time +was a Court held, and a finding uttered, and outlawry given forth +for the manslaying and the ransacking against certain men +unknown. As for the spear, it was laid up in the House of +the Face.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god pondered these matters in his mind, for such +ransackings there had been none of in late years; and he said to +himself that his friends of the Mountain must have other folk, of +which the Dalesmen knew nought, whose gear they could lift, or +how could they live in that place. And he marvelled that +they should risk drawing the Dalesmen’s wrath upon them; +whereas they of the Dale were strong men not easily daunted, +albeit peaceable enough if not stirred to wrath. For in +good sooth he had no doubt concerning that spear, whose it was +and whence it came: for that very weapon had been leaning against +the panel of his shut-bed the night he slept on the Mountain, and +all the other spears that he saw there were more or less of the +same fashion, and adorned with silver.</p> +<p>Albeit all that he knew, and all that he thought of, he kept +in his own heart and said nothing of it.</p> +<p>So wore the autumn into early winter; and the Westland +merchants came in due time, and departed without Face-of-god, +though his father made him that offer one last time. He +went to and fro about his work in the Dale, and seemed to most +men’s eyes nought changed from what he had been. But +the Bride noted that he saw her less often than his wont was, and +abode with her a lesser space when he met her; and she could not +think what this might mean; nor had she heart to ask him thereof, +though she was sorry and grieved, but rather withdrew her company +from him somewhat; and when she perceived that he noted it not, +and made no question of it, then was she the sorrier.</p> +<p>But the first winter-snow came on with a great storm of wind +from the north-east, so that no man stirred abroad who was not +compelled thereto, and those who went abroad risked life and limb +<a name="page68"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +68</span>thereby. Next morning all was calm again, and the +snow was deep, but it did not endure long, for the wind shifted +to the southwest and the thaw came, and three days after, when +folk could fare easily again up and down the Dale, came tidings +to Burgstead and the Alderman from the Lower Dale, how a house +called Greentofts had been ransacked there, and none knew by +whom. Now the goodman of Greentofts was little loved of the +neighbours: he was grasping and overbearing, and had often cowed +others out of their due: he was very cross-grained, both at home +and abroad: his wife had fled from his hand, neither did his sons +find it good to abide with him: therewithal he was wealthy of +goods, a strong man and a deft man-at-arms. When his sons +and his wife departed from him, and none other of the Dalesmen +cared to abide with him, he went down into the Plain, and got +thence men to be with him for hire, men who were not well seen to +in their own land. These to the number of twelve abode with +him, and did his bidding whenso it pleased them. Two more +had he had who had been slain by good men of the Dale for their +masterful ways; and no blood-wite had been paid for them, because +of their ill-doings, though they had not been made outlaws. +This man of Greentofts was called Harts-bane after his father, +who was a great hunter.</p> +<p>Now the full tidings of the ransacking were these: The storm +began two hours before sunset, and an hour thereafter, when it +was quite dark, for without none could see because the wind was +at its height and the drift of the snow was hard and full, the +hall-door flew open; and at first men thought it had been the +wind, until they saw in the dimness (for all lights but the fire +on the hearth had been quenched) certain things tumbling in which +at first they deemed were wolves; but when they took swords and +staves against them, lo they were met by swords and axes, and +they saw that the seeming wolves were men with wolf-skins drawn +over them. So the new-comers cowed them that they threw +down their weapons, and were bound in their places; but when they +<a name="page69"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 69</span>were +bound, and had had time to note who the ransackers were, they saw +that there were but six of them all told, who had cowed and bound +Harts-bane and his twelve masterful men; and this they deemed a +great shaming to them, as might well be.</p> +<p>So then the stead was ransacked, and those wolves took away +what they would, and went their ways through the fierce storm, +and none could tell whether they had lived or died in it; but at +least neither the men nor their prey were seen again; nor did +they leave any slot, for next morning the snow lay deep over +everything.</p> +<p>No doubt had Gold-mane but that these ransackers were his +friends of the Mountain; but he held his peace, abiding till the +winter should be over.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI. MEN MAKE OATH AT BURGSTEAD ON THE HOLY +BOAR.</h2> +<p>A <span class="smcap">week</span> after the ransacking at +Greentofts the snow and the winter came on in earnest, and all +the Dale lay in snow, and men went on skids when they fared up +and down the Dale or on the Mountain.</p> +<p>All was now tidingless till Yule over, and in Burgstead was +there feasting and joyance enough; and especially at the House of +the Face was high-tide holden, and the Alderman and his sons and +Stone-face and all the kindred and all their men sat in glorious +attire within the hall; and many others were there of the best of +the kindreds of Burgstead who had been bidden.</p> +<p>Face-of-god sat between his father and Stone-face; and he +looked up and down the tables and the hall and saw not the Bride, +and his heart misgave him because she was not there, and he +wondered what had befallen and if she were sick of sorrow.</p> +<p>But Iron-face beheld him how he gazed about, and he laughed; +for he was exceeding merry that night and fared as a young +man. <a name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +70</span>Then he said to his son: ‘Whom seekest thou, son? +is there someone lacking?’</p> +<p>Face-of-god reddened as one who lies unused to it, and +said:</p> +<p>‘Yea, kinsman, so it is that I was seeking the Bride my +kinswoman.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Iron-face, ‘call her not +kinswoman: therein is ill-luck, lest it seem that thou art to wed +one too nigh thine own blood. Call her the Bride only: to +thee and to me the name is good. Well, son, desirest thou +sorely to see her?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, yea, surely,’ said Face-of-god; but his eyes +went all about the hall still, as though his mind strayed from +the place and that home of his.</p> +<p>Said Iron-face: ‘Have patience, son, thou shalt see her +anon, and that in such guise as shall please thee.’</p> +<p>Therewithal came the maidens with the ewers of wine, and they +filled all horns and beakers, and then stood by the endlong +tables on either side laughing and talking with the carles and +the older women; and the hall was a fair sight to see, for the +many candles burned bright and the fire on the hearth flared up, +and those maids were clad in fair raiment, and there was none of +them but was comely, and some were fair, and some very fair: the +walls also were hung with goodly pictured cloths, and the image +of the God of the Face looked down smiling terribly from the +gable-end above the high-seat.</p> +<p>Thus as they sat they heard the sound of a horn winded close +outside the hall door, and the door was smitten on. Then +rose Iron-face smiling merrily, and cried out:</p> +<p>‘Enter ye, whether ye be friends or foes: for if ye be +foemen, yet shall ye keep the holy peace of Yule, unless ye be +the foes of all kindreds and nations, and then shall we slay +you.’</p> +<p>Thereat some who knew what was toward laughed; but Gold-mane, +who had been away from Burgstead some days past, marvelled and +knit his brows, and let his right hand fall on his +sword-hilt. For this folk, who were of merry ways, were +wont <a name="page71"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 71</span>to +deal diversely with the Yule-tide customs in the manner of shows; +and he knew not that this was one of them.</p> +<p>Now was the Outer door thrown open, and there entered seven +men, whereof two were all-armed in bright war-gear, and two bore +slug-horns, and two bore up somewhat on a dish covered over with +a piece of rich cloth, and the seventh stood before them all +wrapped up in a dark fur mantle.</p> +<p>Thus they stood a moment; and when he saw their number, back +to Gold-mane’s heart came the thought of those folk on the +Mountain: for indeed he was somewhat out of himself for doubt and +longing, else would he have deemed that all this was but a +Yule-tide play.</p> +<p>Now the men with the slug-horns set them to their mouths and +blew a long blast; while the first of the new-comers set hand to +the clasps of the fur cloak and let it fall to the ground, and +lo! a woman exceeding beauteous, clad in glistering raiment of +gold and fine web; her hair wreathed with bay, and in her hand a +naked sword with goodly-wrought golden hilt and polished +blue-gleaming blade.</p> +<p>Face-of-god started up in his sear, and stared like a man +new-wakened from a strange dream: because for one moment he +deemed verily that it was the Woman of the Mountain arrayed as he +had last seen her, and he cried aloud ‘The Friend, the +Friend!’</p> +<p>His father brake out into loud laughter thereat, and clapped +his son on the shoulder and said: ‘Yea, yea, lad, thou +mayst well say the Friend; for this is thine old playmate whom +thou hast been looking round the hall for, arrayed this eve in +such fashion as is meet for her goodliness and her +worthiness. Yea, this is the Friend indeed!’</p> +<p>Then waxed Face-of-god as red as blood for shame, and he sat +him down in his place again: for now he wotted what was toward, +and saw that this fair woman was the Bride.</p> +<p>But Stone-face from the other side looked keenly on him.</p> +<p><a name="page72"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 72</span>Then +blew the horns again, and the Bride stepped daintily up the hall, +and the sweet odour of her raiment went from her about the +fire-warmed dwelling, and her beauty moved all hearts with +love. So stood she at the high-table; and those two who +bore the burden set it down thereon and drew off the covering, +and lo! there was the Holy Boar of Yule on which men were wont to +make oath of deeds that they would do in the coming year, +according to the custom of their forefathers. Then the +Bride laid the goodly sword beside the dish, and then went round +the table and sat down betwixt Face-of-god and Stone-face, and +turned kindly to Gold-mane, and was glad; for now was his fair +face as its wont was to be. He in turn smiled upon her, for +she was fair and kind and his fellow for many a day.</p> +<p>Now the men-at-arms stood each side the Boar, and out from +them on each side stood the two hornsmen: then these blew up +again, whereon the Alderman stood up and cried:</p> +<p>‘Ye sons of the brave who have any deed that ye may be +desirous of doing, come up, come lay your hand on the sword, and +the point of the sword to the Holy Beast, and swear the oath that +lieth on your hearts.’</p> +<p>Therewith he sat down, and there strode a man up the hall, +strong-built and sturdy, but short of stature; black-haired, +red-bearded, and ruddy-faced: and he stood on the daïs, and +took up the sword and laid its point on the Boar, and said:</p> +<p>‘I am Bristler, son of Brightling, a man of the +Shepherds. Here by the Holy Boar I swear to follow up the +ransackers of Penny-thumb and the slayers of Rusty. And I +take this feud upon me, although they be no good men, because I +am of the kin and it falleth to me, since others forbear; and +when the Court was hallowed hereon I was away out of the Dale and +the Downs. So help me the Warrior, and the God of the +Earth.’</p> +<p>Then the Alderman nodded his head to him kindly, and reached +him out a cup of wine, and as he drank there went up a rumour of +praise from the hall; and men said that his oath was <a +name="page73"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 73</span>manly and +that he was like to keep it; for he was a good man-at-arms and a +stout heart.</p> +<p>Then came up three men of the Shepherds and two of the Dale +and swore to help Bristler in his feud, and men thought it well +sworn.</p> +<p>After that came a braggart, a man very gay of his raiment, and +swore with many words that if he lived the year through he would +be a captain over the men of the Plain, and would come back again +with many gifts for his friends in the Dale. This men +deemed foolishly sworn, for they knew the man; so they jeered at +him and laughed as he went back to his place ashamed.</p> +<p>Then swore three others oaths not hard to be kept, and men +laughed and were merry.</p> +<p>At last uprose the Alderman, and said: ‘Kinsmen, and +good fellows, good days and peaceable are in the Dale as now; and +of such days little is the story, and little it availeth to swear +a deed of derring-do: yet three things I swear by this Beast; and +first to gainsay no man’s asking if I may perform it; and +next to set right above law and mercy above custom; and lastly, +if the days change and war cometh to us or we go to meet it, I +will be no backwarder in the onset than three fathoms behind the +foremost. So help me the Warrior, and the God of the Face +and the Holy Earth!’</p> +<p><a name="page74"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +74</span>Therewith he sat down, and all men shouted for joy of +him, and said that it was most like that he would keep his +oath.</p> +<p>Last of all uprose Face-of-god and took up the sword and +looked at it; and so bright was the blade that he saw in it the +image of the golden braveries which the Bride bore, and even some +broken image of her face. Then he handled the hilt and laid +the point on the Boar, and cried:</p> +<p>‘Hereby I swear to wed the fairest woman of the Earth +before the year is worn to an end; and that whether the Dalesmen +gainsay me or the men beyond the Dale. So help me the +Warrior, and the God of the Face and the Holy Earth!’</p> +<p>Therewith he sat down; and once more men shouted for the love +of him and of the Bride, and they said he had sworn well and like +a chieftain.</p> +<p>But the Bride noted him that neither were his eyes nor his +voice like to their wont as he swore, for she knew him well; and +thereat was she ill at ease, for now whatever was new in him was +to her a threat of evil to come.</p> +<p>Stone-face also noted him, and he knew the young man better +than all others save the Bride, and he saw withal that she was +ill-pleased, and he said to himself: ‘I will speak to my +fosterling to-morrow if I may find him alone.’</p> +<p>So came the swearing to an end, and they fell to on their meat +and feasted on the Boar of Atonement after they had duly given +the Gods their due share, and the wine went about the hall and +men were merry till they drank the parting cup and fared to rest +in the shut-beds, and whereso else they might in the Hall and the +House, for there were many men there.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII. STONE-FACE TELLETH CONCERNING THE +WOOD-WIGHTS.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Early</span> on the morrow Gold-mane arose +and clad himself and went out-a-doors and over the trodden snow +on to the bridge over the Weltering Water, and there betook +himself into one of the coins of safety built over the up-stream +piles; there he leaned against the wall and turned his face to +the Thorp, and fell to pondering on his case. And first he +thought about his oath, and how that he had sworn to wed the +Mountain Woman, although his kindred and her kindred should +gainsay him, yea and herself also. Great seemed that oath +to him, yet at that moment he wished he had made it greater, and +made all the kindred, yea and the Bride herself, sure of the +meaning of the words of it: and he deemed himself a dastard that +he had not done so. Then he <a name="page75"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 75</span>looked round him and beheld the +winter, and he fell into mere longing that the spring were come +and the token from the Mountain. Things seemed too hard for +him to deal with, and he between a mighty folk and two wayward +women; and he went nigh to wish that he had taken his +father’s offer and gone down to the Cities; and even had he +met his bane: well were that! And, as young folk will, he +set to work making a picture of his deeds there, had he been +there. He showed himself the stricken fight in the plain, +and the press, and the struggle, and the breaking of the serried +band, and himself amidst the ring of foemen doing most valiantly, +and falling there at last, his shield o’er-heavy with the +weight of foemen’s spears for a man to uphold it. +Then the victory of his folk and the lamentation and praise over +the slain man of the Mountain Dales, and the burial of the +valiant warrior, the praising weeping folk meeting him at the +City-gate, laid stark and cold in his arms on the gold-hung +garlanded bier.</p> +<p>There ended his dream, and he laughed aloud and said: ‘I +am a fool! All this were good and sweet if I should see it +myself; and forsooth that is how I am thinking of it, as if I +still alive should see myself dead and famous!’</p> +<p>Then he turned a little and looked at the houses of the Thorp +lying dark about the snowy ways under the starlit heavens of the +winter morning: dark they were indeed and grey, save where here +and there the half-burned Yule-fire reddened the windows of a +hall, or where, as in one place, the candle of some early waker +shone white in a chamber window. There was scarce a man +astir, he deemed, and no sound reached him save the crowing of +the cocks muffled by their houses, and a faint sound of beasts in +the byres.</p> +<p>Thus he stood a while, his thoughts wandering now, till +presently he heard footsteps coming his way down the street and +turned toward them, and lo it was the old man Stone-face. +He had seen Gold-mane go out, and had risen and followed him that +he might talk with him apart. Gold-mane greeted him kindly, +<a name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 76</span>though, +sooth to say, he was but half content to see him; since he +doubted, what was verily the case, that his foster-father would +give him many words, counselling him to refrain from going to the +wood, and this was loathsome to him; but he spake and said:</p> +<p>‘Meseems, father, that the eastern sky is brightening +toward dawn.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ quoth Stone-face.</p> +<p>‘It will be light in an hour,’ said +Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘Even so,’ said Stone-face.</p> +<p>‘And a fair day for the morrow of Yule,’ said the +swain.</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Stone-face, ‘and what wilt thou +do with the fair day? Wilt thou to the wood?’</p> +<p>‘Maybe, father,’ said Gold-mane; ‘Hall-face +and some of the swains are talking of elks up the fells which may +be trapped in the drifts, and if they go a-hunting them, I may go +in their company.’</p> +<p>‘Ah, son,’ quoth Stone-face, ‘thou wilt look +to see other kind of beasts than elks. Things may ye fall +in with there who may not be impounded in the snow like to elks, +but can go light-foot on the top of the soft drift from one place +to another.’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘Father, fear me not; I shall either +refrain me from the wood, or if I go, I shall go to hunt the +wood-deer with other hunters. But since thou hast come to +me, tell me more about the wood, for thy tales thereof are +fair.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Stone-face, ‘fair tales of foul +things, as oft it befalleth in the world. Hearken now! if +thou deemest that what thou seekest shall come readier to thine +hand because of the winter and the snow, thou errest. For +the wights that waylay the bodies and souls of the mighty in the +wild-wood heed such matters nothing; yea and at Yule-tide are +they most abroad, and most armed for the fray. Even such an +one have I seen time agone, when the snow was deep and the wind +was rough; and it was in the likeness of a woman clad in such +raiment as the Bride bore last night, and she trod the snow +light-foot in thin raiment where it would <a +name="page77"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 77</span>scarce bear +the skids of a deft snow-runner. Even so she stood before +me; the icy wind blew her raiment round about her, and drifted +the hair from her garlanded head toward me, and she as fair and +fresh as in the midsummer days. Up the fell she fared, +sweetest of all things to look on, and beckoned on me to follow; +on me, the Warrior, the Stout-heart; and I followed, and between +us grief was born; but I it was that fostered that child and not +she. Always when she would be, was she merry and lovely; +and even so is she now, for she is of those that be +long-lived. And I wot that thou hast seen even such an +one!’</p> +<p>‘Tell me more of thy tales, foster-father,’ said +Gold-mane, ‘and fear not for me!’</p> +<p>‘Ah, son,’ he said, ‘mayst thou have no such +tales to tell to those that shall be young when thou art +old. Yet hearken! We sat in the hall together and +there was no third; and methought that the birds sang and the +flowers bloomed, and sweet was their savour, though it was +midwinter. A rose-wreath was on her head; grapes were on +the board, and fair unwrinkled summer apples on the day that we +feasted together. When was the feast? sayst thou. +Long ago. What was the hall, thou sayest, wherein ye +feasted? I know not if it were on the earth or under it, or +if we rode the clouds that even. But on the morrow what was +there but the stark wood and the drift of the snow, and the iron +wind howling through the branches, and a lonely man, a wanderer +rising from the ground. A wanderer through the wood and up +the fell, and up the high mountain, and up and up to the edges of +the ice-river and the green caves of the ice-hills. A +wanderer in spring, in summer, autumn and winter, with an empty +heart and a burning never-satisfied desire; who hath seen in the +uncouth places many an evil unmanly shape, many a foul hag and +changing ugly semblance; who hath suffered hunger and thirst and +wounding and fever, and hath seen many things, but hath never +again seen that fair woman, or that lovely feast-hall.</p> +<p>‘All praise and honour to the House of the Face, and the +<a name="page78"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 78</span>bounteous +valiant men thereof! and the like praise and honour to the fair +women whom they wed of the valiant and goodly House of the +Steer!’</p> +<p>‘Even so say I,’ quoth Gold-mane calmly; +‘but now wend we aback to the House, for it is morning +indeed, and folk will be stirring there.’</p> +<p>So they turned from the bridge together; and Stone-face was +kind and fatherly, and was telling his foster-son many wise +things concerning the life of a chieftain, and the giving-out of +dooms and the gathering for battle; to all which talk Face-of-god +seemed to hearken gladly, but indeed hearkened not at all; for +verily his eyes were beholding that snowy waste, and the fair +woman upon it; even such an one as Stone-face had told of.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII. THEY FARE TO THE HUNTING OF THE ELK.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> they came into the Hall, the +hearth-fire had been quickened, and the sleepers on the floor had +been wakened, and all folk were astir. So the old man sat +down by the hearth while Gold-mane busied himself in fetching +wood and water, and in sweeping out the Hall, and other such +works of the early morning. In a little while Hall-face and +the other young men and warriors were afoot duly clad, and the +Alderman came from his chamber and greeted all men kindly. +Soon meat was set upon the boards, and men broke their fast; and +day dawned while they were about it, and ere it was all done the +sun rose clear and golden, so that all men knew that the day +would be fair, for the frost seemed hard and enduring.</p> +<p>Then the eager young men and the hunters, and those who knew +the mountain best drew together about the hearth, and fell to +talking of the hunting of the elk; and there were three there who +knew both the woods and also the fells right up to the ice-rivers +<a name="page79"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 79</span>better +than any other; and these said that they who were fain of the +hunting of the elk would have no likelier time than that day for +a year to come. Short was the rede betwixt them, for they +said they would go to the work at once and make the most of the +short winter daylight. So they went each to his place, and +some outside that House to their fathers’ houses to fetch +each man his gear. Face-of-god for his part went to his +shut-bed, and stood by his chest, and opened it, and drew out of +it a fine hauberk of ring-mail which his father had made for him: +for though Face-of-god was a deft wright, he was not by a long +way so deft as his father, who was the deftest of all men of that +time and country; so that the alien merchants would give him what +he would for his hauberks and helms, whenso he would chaffer with +them, which was but seldom. So Face-of-god did on this +hauberk over his kirtle, and over it he cast his foul-weather +weed, so that none might see it: he girt a strong war-sword to +his side, cast his quiver over his shoulder, and took his bow in +his hand, although he had little lust to shoot elks that day, +even as Stone-face had said; therewithal he took his skids, and +went forth of the hall to the gate of the Burg; whereto gathered +the whole company of twenty-three, and Gold-mane the +twenty-fourth. And each man there had his skids and his bow +and quiver, and whatso other weapon, as short-sword, or +wood-knife, or axe, seemed good to him.</p> +<p>So they went out-a-gates, and clomb the stairway in the cliff +which led to the ancient watch-tower: for it was on the lower +slopes of the fells which lay near to the Weltering Water that +they looked to find the elks, and this was the nighest road +thereto. When they had gotten to the top they lost no time, +but went their ways nearly due east, making way easily where +there were but scattered trees close to the lip of the sheer +cliffs.</p> +<p>They went merrily on their skids over the close-lying snow, +and were soon up on the great shoulders of the fells that went up +from the bank of the Weltering Water: at noon they came into <a +name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 80</span>a little dale +wherein were a few trees, and there they abided to eat their +meat, and were very merry, making for themselves tables and +benches of the drifted snow, and piling it up to windward as a +defence against the wind, which had now arisen, little but bitter +from the south-east; so that some, and they the wisest, began to +look for foul weather: wherefore they tarried the shorter while +in the said dale or hollow.</p> +<p>But they were scarcely on their way again before the aforesaid +south-east wind began to grow bigger, and at last blew a gale, +and brought up with it a drift of fine snow, through which they +yet made their way, but slowly, till the drift grew so thick that +they could not see each other five paces apart.</p> +<p>Then perforce they made stay, and gathered together under a +bent which by good luck they happened upon, where they were +sheltered from the worst of the drift. There they abode, +till in less than an hour’s space the drift abated and the +wind fell, and in a little while after it was quite clear, with +the sun shining brightly and the young waxing moon white and high +up in the heavens; and the frost was harder than ever.</p> +<p>This seemed good to them; but now that they could see each +other’s faces they fell to telling over their company, and +there was none missing save Face-of-god. They were somewhat +dismayed thereat, but knew not what to do, and they deemed he +might not be far off, either a little behind or a little ahead; +and Hall-face said:</p> +<p>‘There is no need to make this to-do about my brother; +he can take good care of himself; neither does a warrior of the +Face die because of a little cold and frost and snow-drift. +Withal Gold-mane is a wilful man, and of late days hath been +wilful beyond his wont; let us now find the elks.’</p> +<p>So they went on their ways hoping to fall in with him +again. No long story need be made of their hunting, for not +very far from where they had taken shelter they came upon the +elks, many of them, impounded in the drifts, pretty much where +the deft <a name="page81"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +81</span>hunters looked to find them. There then was battle +between the elks and the men, till the beasts were all slain and +only one man hurt: then they made them sleighs from wood which +they found in the hollows thereby, and they laid the carcasses +thereon, and so turned their faces homeward, dragging their prey +with them. But they met not Face-of-god either there or on +the way home; and Hall-face said: ‘Maybe Gold-mane will lie +on the fell to-night; and I would I were with him; for adventures +oft befall such folk when they abide in the wilds.’</p> +<p>Now it was late at night by then they reached Burgstead, so +laden as they were with the dead beasts; but they heeded the +night little, for the moon was well-nigh as bright as day for +them. But when they came to the gate of the Thorp, there +were assembled the goodmen and swains to meet them with torches +and wine in their honour. There also was Gold-mane come +back before them, yea for these two hours; and he stood clad in +his holiday raiment and smiled on them.</p> +<p>Then was there some jeering at him that he was come back +empty-handed from the hunting, and that he was not able to abide +the wind and the drift; but he laughed thereat, for all this was +but game and play, since men knew him for a keen hunter and a +stout woodsman; and they had deemed it a heavy loss of him if he +had been cast away, as some feared he had been: and his brother +Hall-face embraced him and kissed him, and said to him: +‘Now the next time that thou farest to the wood will I be +with thee foot to foot, and never leave thee, and then meseemeth +I shall wot of the tale that hath befallen thee, and belike it +shall be no sorry one.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god laughed and answered but little, and they all +betook them to the House of the Face and held high feast therein, +for as late as the night was, in honour of this Hunting of the +Elk.</p> +<p>No man cared to question Face-of-god closely as to how or +where he had strayed from the hunt; for he had told his own tale +at once as soon as he came home, to wit, that his right-foot +skid-strap had broken, and even while he stopped to mend it came +on <a name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 82</span>that +drift and weather; and that he could not move from that place +without losing his way, and that when it had cleared he knew not +whither they had gone because the snow had covered their +slot. So he deemed it not unlike that they had gone back, +and that he might come up with one or two on the way, and that in +any case he wotted well that they could look after themselves; so +he turned back, not going very swiftly. All this seemed +like enough, and a little matter except to jest about, so no man +made any question concerning it: only old Stone-face said to +himself:</p> +<p>‘Now were I fain to have a true tale out of him, but it +is little likely that anything shall come of my much questioning; +and it is ill forcing a young man to tell lies.’</p> +<p>So he held his peace, and the feast went on merrily and +blithely.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV. CONCERNING FACE-OF-GOD AND THE +MOUNTAIN.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">But</span> it must be told of Gold-mane +that what had befallen him was in this wise. His skid-strap +brake in good sooth, and he stayed to mend it; but when he had +done what was needful, he looked up and saw no man nigh, what for +the drift, and that they had gone on somewhat; so he rose to his +feet, and without more delay, instead of keeping on toward the +elk-ground and the way his face had been set, he turned himself +north-and-by-east, and went his ways swiftly towards that +aírt, because he deemed that it might lead him to the +Mountain-hall where he had guested. He abode not for the +storm to clear, but swept off through the thick of it; and indeed +the wind was somewhat at his back, so that he went the +swiftlier. But when the drift was gotten to its very worst, +he sheltered himself for a little in a hollow behind a thorn-bush +he stumbled upon. As soon as it began to abate he went on +again, and at last when it was quite clear, and the sun shone +out, he found himself on a long slope of the fells <a +name="page83"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 83</span>covered deep +with smooth white snow, and at the higher end a great crag rising +bare fifty feet above the snow, and more rocks, but none so +great, and broken ground as he judged (the snow being deep) about +it on the hither side; and on the further, three great pine-trees +all bent down and mingled together by their load of snow.</p> +<p>Thitherward he made, as a man might, seeing nothing else to +note before him; but he had not made many strides when forth from +behind the crag by the pine-trees came a man; and at first +Face-of-god thought it might be one of his hunting-fellows gone +astray, and he hailed him in a loud voice, but as he looked he +saw the sun flash back from a bright helm on the +new-comer’s head; albeit he kept on his way till there was +but a space of two hundred yards between them; when lo! the +helm-bearer notched a shaft to his bent bow and loosed at +Face-of-god, and the arrow came whistling and passed six inches +by his right ear. Then Face-of-god stopped perplexed with +his case; for he was on the deep snow in his skids, with his bow +unbent, and he knew not how to bend it speedily. He was +loth to turn his back and flee, and indeed he scarce deemed that +it would help him. Meanwhile of his tarrying the archer +loosed again at him, and this time the shaft flew close to his +left ear. Then Face-of-god thought to cast himself down +into the snow, but he was ashamed; till there came a third shaft +which flew over his head amidmost and close to it. +‘Good shooting on the Mountain!’ muttered he; +‘the next shaft will be amidst my breast, and who knows +whether the Alderman’s handiwork will keep it +out.’</p> +<p>So he cried aloud: ‘Thou shootest well, brother; but art +thou a foe? If thou art, I have a sword by my side, and so +hast thou; come hither to me, and let us fight it out friendly if +we must needs fight.’</p> +<p>A laugh came down the wind to him clear but somewhat shrill, +and the archer came swiftly towards him on his skids with no +weapon in his hand save his bow; so that Face-of-god did not draw +his sword, but stood wondering.</p> +<p><a name="page84"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 84</span>As they +drew nearer he beheld the face of the new-comer, and deemed that +he had seen it before; and soon, for all that it was hooded close +by the ill-weather raiment, he perceived it to be the face of +Bow-may, ruddy and smiling.</p> +<p>She laughed out loud again, as she stopped herself within +three feet of him, and said:</p> +<p>‘Yea, friend Yellow-hair, we heard of the elks and +looked to see thee hereabouts, and I knew thee at once when I +came out from behind the crag and saw thee stand +bewildered.’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘Hail to thee, Bow-may! and glad am I to +see thee. But thou liest in saying that thou knewest me; +else why didst thou shoot those three shafts at me? Surely +thou art not so quick as that with all thy friends: these be +sharp greetings of you Mountain-folk.’</p> +<p>‘Thou lad with the sweet mouth,’ she said, +‘I like to see thee and hear thee talk, but now must I +hasten thy departure; so stand we here no longer. Let us +get down into the wood where we can do off our skids and sit +down, and then will I tell thee the tidings. Come +on!’</p> +<p>And she caught his hand in hers, and they went speedily down +the slopes toward the great oak-wood, the wind whistling past +their ears.</p> +<p>‘Whither are we going?’ said he.</p> +<p>Said she: ‘I am to show thee the way back home, which +thou wilt not know surely amidst this snow. Come, no words! +thou shalt not have my tale from me till we are in the wood: so +the sooner we are there the sooner shalt thou be +pleased.’</p> +<p>So Face-of-god held his peace, and they went on swiftly side +by side. But it was not Bow-may’s wont to be silent +for long, so presently she said:</p> +<p>‘Thou art good so do as I bid thee; but see thou, sweet +playmate, for all thou art a chieftain’s son, thou wert but +feather-brained to ask me why I shot at thee. I shoot at +thee! that were a fine tale to tell her this even! Or dost +thou think that I could <a name="page85"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 85</span>shoot at a big man on the snow at two +hundred paces and miss him three times? Unless I aimed to +miss.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, Bow-may,’ said he, ‘art thou so deft a +Bow-may? Thou shalt be in my company whenso I fare to +battle.’</p> +<p>‘Indeed,’ she said, ‘therein thou sayest but +the bare truth: nowhere else shall I be, and thou shalt find my +bow no worse than a good shield.’</p> +<p>He laughed somewhat lightly; but she looked on him soberly and +said: ‘Laugh in that fashion on the day of battle, and we +shall be well content with thee!’</p> +<p>So on they sped very swiftly, for their way was mostly down +hill, so that they were soon amongst the outskirting trees of the +wood, and presently after reached the edge of the thicket, beyond +which the ground was but thinly covered with snow.</p> +<p>There they took off their skids, and went into the thick wood +and sat down under a hornbeam tree; and ere Gold-mane could open +his mouth to speak Bow-may began and said:</p> +<p>‘Well it was that I fell in with thee, Dalesman, else +had there been murders of men to tell of; but ever she ordereth +all things wisely, though unwisely hast thou done to seek to +her. Hearken! dost thou think that thou hast done well that +thou hast me here with my tale? Well, hadst thou busied +thyself with the slaying of elks, or with sitting quietly at +home, yet shouldest thou have heard my tale, and thou shouldest +have seen me in Burgstead in a day or two to tell thee concerning +the flitting of the token. And ill it is that I have missed +it, for fain had I been to behold the House of the Face, and to +have seen thee sitting there in thy dignity amidst the kindred of +chieftains.’</p> +<p>And she sighed therewith. But he said: ‘Hold up +thine heart, Bow-may! On the word of a true man that shall +befall thee one day. But come, playmate, give me thy +tale!’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘I must now tell thee in +the wild-wood what else I had told thee in the Hall. +Hearken closely, for this is the message:</p> +<p><a name="page86"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +86</span>‘<i>Seek not to me again till thou hast the +token</i>; <i>else assuredly wilt thou be slain</i>, <i>and I +shall be sorry for many a day</i>. <i>Thereof as now I may +not tell thee more</i>. <i>Now as to the token</i>: <i>When +March is worn two weeks fail not to go to and fro on the place of +the Maiden Ward for an hour before sunrise every day till thou +hear tidings</i>.’</p> +<p>‘Now,’ quoth Bow-may, ‘hast thou hearkened +and understood?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said he.</p> +<p>She said: ‘Then tell me the words of my message +concerning the token.’ And he did so word for +word. Then she said:</p> +<p>‘It is well, there is no more to say. Now must I +lead thee till thou knowest the wood; and then mayst thou get on +to the smooth snow again, and so home merrily. Yet, thou +grey-eyed fellow, I will have my pay of thee before I do that +last work.’</p> +<p>Therewith she turned about to him and took his head between +her hands, and kissed him well favouredly both cheeks and mouth; +and she laughed, albeit the tears stood in her eyes as she said: +‘Now smelleth the wood sweeter, and summer will come back +again. And even thus will I do once more when we stand side +by side in battle array.’</p> +<p>He smiled kindly on her and nodded as they both rose up from +the earth: she had taken off her foul-weather gloves while they +spake, and he kissed her hand, which was shapely of fashion +albeit somewhat brown, and hard of palm, and he said in friendly +wise:</p> +<p>‘Thou art a merry faring-fellow, Bow-may, and belike +shalt be withal a true fighting-fellow. Come now, thou +shalt be my sister and I thy brother, in despite of those three +shafts across the snow.’</p> +<p>He laughed therewith; she laughed not, but seemed glad, and +said soberly:</p> +<p>‘Yea, I may well be thy sister; for belike I also am of +the people of the Gods, who have come into these Dales by many +far ways. I am of the House of the Ragged Sword of the +Kindred of the Wolf. Come, brother, let us toward +Wildlake’s Way.’</p> +<p>Therewith she went before him and led through the thicket <a +name="page87"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 87</span>as by an +assured and wonted path, and he followed hard at heel; but his +thought went from her for a while; for those words of brother and +sister that he had spoken called to his mind the Bride, and their +kindness of little children, and the days when they seemed to +have nought to do but to make the sun brighter, and the flowers +fairer, and the grass greener, and the birds happier each for the +other; and a hard and evil thing it seemed to him that now he +should be making all these things nought and dreary to her, now +when he had become a man and deeds lay before him. Yet +again was he solaced by what Bow-may had said concerning battle +to come; for he deemed that she must have had this from the +Friend’s foreseeing; and he longed sore for deeds to do, +wherein all these things might be cleared up and washen clean as +it were.</p> +<p>So passed they through the wood a long way, and it was getting +dark therein, and Gold-mane said:</p> +<p>‘Hold now, Bow-may, for I am at home here.’</p> +<p>She looked around and said: ‘Yea, so it is: I was +thinking of many things. Farewell and live merrily till +March comes and the token!’</p> +<p>Therewith she turned and went her ways and was soon out of +sight, and he went lightly through the wood, and then on skids +over the hard snow along the Dale’s edge till he was come +to the watch-tower, when the moon was bright in heaven.</p> +<p>Thus was he at Burgstead and the House of the Face betimes, +and before the hunters were gotten back.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV. MURDER AMONGST THE FOLK OF THE +WOODLANDERS.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">So</span> wore away midwinter +tidingless. Stone-face spake no more to Face-of-god about +the wood and its wights, when he saw that the young man had come +back hale and merry, seemed not to crave over-much to go back +thither. As for <a name="page88"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 88</span>the Bride, she was sad, and more than +misdoubted all; but dauntless as she was in matters that try +men’s hardihood, she yet lacked heart to ask of Face-of-god +what had befallen him since the autumn-tide, or where he was with +her. So she put a force upon herself not to look sad or +craving when she was in his company, as full oft she was; for he +rather sought her than shunned her. For when he saw her +thus, he deemed things were changing with her as they had changed +with him, and he bethought him of what he had spoken to Bow-may, +and deemed that even so he might speak with the Bride when the +time came, and that she would not be grieved beyond measure, and +all would be well.</p> +<p>Now came on the thaw, and the snow went, and the grass grew +all up and down the Dale, and all waters were big. And +about this time arose rumours of strange men in the wood, +uncouth, vile, and murderous, and many of the feebler sort were +made timorous thereby.</p> +<p>But a little before March was born came new tidings from the +Woodlanders; to wit: There came on a time to the house of a +woodland carle, a worthy goodman well renowned of all, two +wayfarers in the first watch of the night; and these men said +that they were wending down to the Plain from a far-away dale, +Rose-dale to wit, which all men had heard of, and that they had +strayed from the way and were exceeding weary, and they craved a +meal’s meat and lodging for the night.</p> +<p>This the goodman might nowise gainsay, and he saw no harm in +it, wherefore he bade them abide and be merry.</p> +<p>These men, said they who told the tidings, were outlanders, +and no man had seen any like them before: they were armed, and +bore short bows made of horn, and round targets, and +coats-of-fence done over with horn scales; they had crooked +swords girt to their sides, and axes of steel forged all in one +piece, right good weapons. They were clad in scarlet and +had much silver on their raiment and about their weapons, and +great rings of the same on their arms; and all this silver seemed +brand-new.</p> +<p><a name="page89"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 89</span>Now the +Woodland Carle gave them of such things as he had, and was kind +and blithe to them: there were in his house besides himself five +men of his sons and kindred, and his wife and three daughters and +two other maids. So they feasted after the +Woodlanders’ fashion, and went to bed a little before +midnight. Two hours after, the carle awoke and heard a +little stir, and he looked and saw the guests on their feet +amidst the hall clad in all their war-gear; and they had betwixt +them his two youngest daughters, maids of fifteen and twelve +winters, and had bound their hands and done clouts over their +mouths, so that they might not cry out; and they were just at +point to carry them off. Thereat the goodman, naked as he +was, caught up his sword and made at these murder-carles, and or +ever they were ware of him he had hewn down one and turned to +face the other, who smote at him with his steel axe and gave him +a great wound on the shoulder, and therewithal fled out at the +open door and forth into the wood.</p> +<p>The Woodlander made no stay to raise the cry (there was no +need, for the hall was astir now from end to end, and men getting +to their weapons), but ran out after the felon even as he was; +and, in spite of his grievous hurt, overran him no long way from +the house before he had gotten into the thicket. But the +man was nimble and strong, and the goodman unsteady from his +wound, and by then the others of the household came up with the +hue and cry he had gotten two more sore wounds and was just +making an end of throttling the felon with his bare hands. +So he fell into their arms fainting from weakness, and for all +they could do he died in two hours’ time from that +axe-wound in his shoulder, and another on the side of the head, +and a knife-thrust in his side; and he was a man of sixty +winters.</p> +<p>But the stranger he had slain outright; and the one whom he +had smitten in the hall died before the dawn, thrusting all help +aside, and making no sound of speech.</p> +<p>When these tidings came to Burgstead they seemed great to men, +and to Gold-mane more than all. So he and many others <a +name="page90"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 90</span>took their +weapons and fared up to Wildlake’s Way, and so came to the +Woodland Carles. But the Woodlanders had borne out the +carcasses of those felons and laid them on the green before +Wood-grey’s door (for that was the name of the dead +goodman), and they were saying that they would not bury such +accursed folk, but would bear them a little way so that they +should not be vexed with the stink of them, and cast them into +the thicket for the wolf and the wild-cat and the stoat to deal +with; and they should lie there, weapons and silver and all; and +they deemed it base to strip such wretches, for who would wear +their raiment or bear their weapons after them.</p> +<p>There was a great ring of folk round about them when they of +Burgstead drew near, and they shouted for joy to see their +neighbours, and made way before them. Then the Dalesmen +cursed these murderers who had slain so good a man, and they all +praised his manliness, whereas he ran out into the night naked +and wounded after his foe, and had fallen like his folk of old +time.</p> +<p>It was a bright spring afternoon in that clearing of the Wood, +and they looked at the two dead men closely; and Gold-mane, who +had been somewhat silent and moody till then, became merry and +wordy; for he beheld the men and saw that they were utterly +strange to him: they were short of stature, crooked-legged, +long-armed, very strong for their size: with small blue eyes, +snubbed-nosed, wide-mouthed, thin-lipped, very swarthy of skin, +exceeding foul of favour. He and all others wondered who +they were, and whence they came, for never had they seen their +like; and the Woodlanders, who often guested outlanders strayed +from the way of divers kindreds and nations, said also that none +such had they ever seen. But Stone-face, who stood by +Gold-mane, shook his head and quoth he:</p> +<p>‘The Wild-wood holdeth many marvels, and these be of +them: the spawn of evil wights quickeneth therein, and at other +whiles it melteth away again like the snow; so may it be with +these carcasses.’</p> +<p><a name="page91"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 91</span>And +some of the older folk of the Woodlanders who stood by hearkened +what he said, and deemed his words wise, for they remembered +their ancient lore and many a tale of old time.</p> +<p>Thereafter they of Burgstead went into Wood-grey’s hall, +or as many of them as might, for it was but a poor place and not +right great. There they saw the goodman laid on the +daïs in all his war-gear, under the last tie-beam of his +hall, whereon was carved amidst much goodly work of knots and +flowers and twining stems the image of the Wolf of the Waste, his +jaws open and gaping: the wife and daughters of the goodman and +other women of the folk stood about the bier singing some old +song in a low voice, and some sobbing therewithal, for the man +was much beloved: and much people of the Woodlanders was in the +hall, and it was somewhat dusk within.</p> +<p>So the Burgstead men greeted that folk kindly and humbly, and +again they fell to praising the dead man, saying how his deed +should long be remembered in the Dale and wide about; and they +called him a fearless man and of great worth. And the women +hearkened, and ceased their crooning and their sobbing, and stood +up proudly and raised their heads with gleaming eyes; and as the +words of the Burgstead men ended, they lifted up their voices and +sang loudly and clearly, standing together in a row, ten of them, +on the daïs of that poor hall, facing the gable and the +wolf-adorned tie-beam, heeding nought as they sang what was about +or behind them.</p> +<p>And this is some of what they sang:</p> +<p class="poetry">Why sit ye bare in the spinning-room?<br /> +Why weave ye naked at the loom?</p> +<p class="poetry">Bare and white as the moon we be,<br /> +That the Earth and the drifting night may see.</p> +<p class="poetry">Now what is the worst of all your work?<br /> +What curse amidst the web shall lurk?</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page92"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +92</span>The worst of the work our hands shall win<br /> +Is wrack and ruin round the kin.</p> +<p class="poetry">Shall the woollen yarn and the flaxen thread<br +/> +Be gear for living men or dead?</p> +<p class="poetry">The woollen yarn and the flaxen thread<br /> +Shall flare ’twixt living men and dead.</p> +<p class="poetry">O what is the ending of your day?<br /> +When shall ye rise and wend away?</p> +<p class="poetry">Our day shall end to-morrow morn,<br /> +When we hear the voice of the battle-horn.</p> +<p class="poetry">Where first shall eyes of men behold<br /> +This weaving of the moonlight cold?</p> +<p class="poetry">There where the alien host abides<br /> +The gathering on the Mountain-sides.</p> +<p class="poetry">How long aloft shall the fair web fly<br /> +When the bows are bent and the spears draw nigh?</p> +<p class="poetry">From eve to morn and morn till eve<br /> +Aloft shall fly the work we weave.</p> +<p class="poetry">What then is this, the web ye win?<br /> +What wood-beast waxeth stark therein?</p> +<p class="poetry">We weave the Wolf and the gift of war<br /> +From the men that were to the men that are.</p> +<p>So sang they: and much were all men moved at their singing, +and there was none but called to mind the old days of the +Fathers, and the years when their banner went wide in the +world.</p> +<p>But the Woodlanders feasted them of Burgstead what they might, +and then went the Dalesmen back to their houses; but on <a +name="page93"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 93</span>the +morrow’s morrow they fared thither again, and Wood-grey was +laid in mound amidst a great assemblage of the Folk.</p> +<p>Many men said that there was no doubt that those two felons +were of the company of those who had ransacked the steads of +Penny-thumb and Harts-bane; and so at first deemed Bristler the +son of Brightling: but after a while, when he had had time to +think of it, he changed his mind; for he said that such men as +these would have slain first and ransacked afterwards: and some +who loved neither Penny-thumb nor Harts-bane said that they would +not have been at the pains to choose for ransacking the two worst +men about the Dale, whose loss was no loss to any but +themselves.</p> +<p>As for Gold-mane he knew not what to think, except that his +friends of the Mountain had had nought to do with it.</p> +<p>So wore the days awhile.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI. THE BRIDE SPEAKETH WITH FACE-OF-GOD.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">February</span> had died into March, and +March was now twelve days old, on a fair and sunny day an hour +before noon; and Face-of-god was in a meadow a scant mile down +the Dale from Burgstead. He had been driving a bull into a +goodman’s byre nearby, and had had to spend toil and +patience both in getting him out of the fields and into the byre; +for the beast was hot with the spring days and the new +grass. So now he was resting himself in happy mood in an +exceeding pleasant place, a little meadow to wit, on one side +whereof was a great orchard or grove of sweet chestnuts, which +went right up to the feet of the Southern Cliffs: across the +meadow ran a clear brook towards the Weltering Water, free from +big stones, in some places dammed up for the flooding of the deep +pasture-meadow, and with the grass growing on its lips down to +the very water. There <a name="page94"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 94</span>was a low bank just outside the +chestnut trees, as if someone had raised a dyke about them when +they were young, which had been trodden low and spreading through +the lapse of years by the faring of many men and beasts. +The primroses bloomed thick upon it now, and here and there along +it was a low blackthorn bush in full blossom; from the mid-meadow +and right down to the lip of the brook was the grass well nigh +hidden by the blossoms of the meadow-saffron, with daffodils +sprinkled about amongst them, and in the trees and bushes the +birds, and chiefly the blackbirds, were singing their +loudest.</p> +<p>There sat Face-of-god on the bank resting after his toil, and +happy was his mood; since in two days’ wearing he should be +pacing the Maiden Ward awaiting the token that was to lead him to +Shadowy Vale; so he sat calling to mind the Friend as he had last +seen her, and striving as it were to set her image standing on +the flowery grass before him, till all the beauty of the meadow +seemed bare and empty to him without her. Then it fell into +his mind that this had been a beloved trysting-place betwixt him +and the Bride, and that often when they were little would they +come to gather chestnuts in the grove, and thereafter sit and +prattle on the old dyke; or in spring when the season was warm +would they go barefoot into the brook, seeking its treasures of +troutlets and flowers and clean-washed agate pebbles. Yea, +and time not long ago had they met here to talk as lovers, and +sat on that very bank in all the kindness of good days without a +blemish, and both he and she had loved the place well for its +wealth of blossoms and deep grass and goodly trees and clear +running stream.</p> +<p>As he thought of all this, and how often there he had praised +to himself her beauty, which he scarce dared praise to her, he +frowned and slowly rose to his feet, and turned toward the +chestnut-grove, as though he would go thence that way; but or +ever he stepped down from the dyke he turned about again, and +even therewith, like the very image and ghost of his thought, lo! +the <a name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 95</span>Bride +herself coming up from out the brook and wending toward him, her +wet naked feet gleaming in the sun as they trod down the tender +meadow-saffron and brushed past the tufts of daffodils. He +stood staring at her discomforted, for on that day he had much to +think of that seemed happy to him, and he deemed that she would +now question him, and his mind pondered divers ways of answering +her, and none seemed good to him. She drew near and let her +skirts fall over her feet, and came to him, her gown hem dragging +over the flowers: then she stood straight up before him and +greeted him, but reached not forth her hand to him nor touched +him. Her face was paler that its wont, and her voice +trembled as she spake to him and said:</p> +<p>‘Face-of-god, I would ask thee a gift.’</p> +<p>‘All gifts,’ he said, ‘that thou mayest ask, +and I may give, lie open to thee.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘If I be alive when the time comes this gift +thou mayst well give me.’</p> +<p>‘Sweet kinswoman,’ said he, ‘tell me what it +is that thou wouldest have of me.’ And he was +ill-at-ease as he waited for her answer.</p> +<p>She said: ‘Ah, kinsman, kinsman! Woe on the day +that maketh kinship accursed to me because thou desirest +it!’</p> +<p>He held his peace and was exceeding sorry; and she said:</p> +<p>‘This is the gift that I ask of thee, that in the days +to come when thou art wedded, thou wilt give me the second +man-child whom thou begettest.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘This shalt thou have, and would that I might +give thee much more. Would that we were little children +together other again, as when we played here in other +days.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘I would have a token of thee that thou shalt +show to the God, and swear on it to give me the gift. For +the times change.’</p> +<p>‘What token wilt thou have?’ said he.</p> +<p>She said: ‘When next thou farest to the Wood, thou shalt +bring me back, it maybe a flower from the bank ye sit upon, or <a +name="page96"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 96</span>a splinter +from the daïs of the hall wherein ye feast, or maybe a ring +or some matter that the strangers are wont to wear. That +shall be the token.’</p> +<p>She spoke slowly, hanging her head adown, but she lifted it +presently and looked into his face and said:</p> +<p>‘Woe’s me, woe’s me, Gold-mane! How +evil is this day, when bewailing me I may not bewail thee +also! For I know that thine heart is glad. All +through the winter have I kept this hidden in my heart, and durst +not speak to thee. But now the spring-tide hath driven me +to it. Let summer come, and who shall say?’</p> +<p>Great was his grief, and his shame kept him silent, and he had +no word to say; and again she said:</p> +<p>‘Tell me, Gold-mane, when goest thou thither?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘I know not surely, may happen in two days, may +happen in ten. Why askest thou?’</p> +<p>‘O friend!’ she said, ‘is it a new thing +that I should ask thee whither thou goest and whence thou comest, +and the times of thy coming and going. Farewell +to-day! Forget not the token. Woe’s me, that I +may not kiss thy fair face!’</p> +<p>She spread her arms abroad and lifted up her face as one who +waileth, but no sound came from her lips; then she turned about +and went away as she had come.</p> +<p>But as for him he stood there after she was gone in all +confusion, as if he were undone: for he felt his manhood lessened +that he should thus and so sorely have hurt a friend, and in a +manner against his will. And yet he was somewhat wroth with +her, that she had come upon him so suddenly, and spoken to him +with such mastery, and in so few words, and he with none to make +answer to her, and that she had so marred his pleasure and his +hope of that fair day. Then he sat him down again on the +flowery bank, and little by little his heart softened, and he +once more called to mind many a time when they had been there +before, and the plays and the games they had had together there +when they were little. And he bethought him of the days +that were long to him then, <a name="page97"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 97</span>and now seemed short to him, and as +if they were all grown together into one story, and that a sweet +one. Then his breast heaved with a sob, and the tears rose +to his eyes and burned and stung him, and he fell a-weeping for +that sweet tale, and wept as he had wept once before on that old +dyke when there had been some child’s quarrel between them, +and she had gone away and left him.</p> +<p>Then after a while he ceased his weeping, and looked about him +lest anyone might be coming, and then he arose and went to and +fro in the chestnut-grove for a good while, and afterwards went +his ways from that meadow, saying to himself: ‘Yet +remaineth to me the morrow of to-morrow, and that is the first of +the days of the watching for the token.’</p> +<p>But all that day he was slow to meet the eyes of men; and in +the hall that eve he was silent and moody; for from time to time +it came over him that some of his manhood had departed from +him.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII. THE TOKEN COMETH FROM THE MOUNTAIN.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next day wore away tidingless; +and the day after Face-of-god arose betimes; for it was the first +day of his watch, and he was at the Maiden Ward before the time +appointed on a very fair and bright morning, and he went to and +fro on that place, and had no tidings. So he came away +somewhat cast down, and said within himself: ‘Is it but a +lie and a mocking when all is said?’</p> +<p>On the morrow he went thither again, and the morn was wild and +stormy with drift of rain, and low clouds hurrying over the +earth, though for the sunrise they lifted a little in the east, +and the sun came up over the passes, amidst the red and angry +rack of clouds. This morn also gave him no tidings of the +token, and he <a name="page98"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +98</span>was wroth and perturbed in spirit: but towards evening +he said:</p> +<p>‘It is well: ten days she gave me, so that she might be +able to send without fail on one of them; she will not fail +me.’</p> +<p>So again on the morrow he was there betimes, and the morn was +windy as on the day before, but the clouds higher and of better +promise for the day. Face-of-god walked to and fro on the +Maiden Ward, and as he turned toward Burgstead for the tenth +time, he heard, as he deemed, a bow-string twang afar off, and +even therewith came a shaft flying heavily like a winged bird, +which smote a great standing stone on the other side of the way, +where of old some chieftain had been buried, and fell to earth at +its foot. He went up to it and handled it, and saw that +there was a piece of thin parchment wrapped about it, which +indeed he was eager to unwrap at once, but forebore; because he +was on the highway, and people were already astir, and even then +passed by him a goodman of the Dale with a man of his going +afield together, and they gave him the sele of the day. So +he went along the highway a little till he came to a place where +was a footbridge over into the meadow. He crossed thereby +and went swiftly till he reached a rising ground grown over with +hazel-trees; there he sat down among the rabbit-holes, the +primrose and wild-garlic blooming about him, and three blackbirds +answering one another from the edges of the coppice. +Straightway when he had looked and seen none coming he broke the +threads that were wound about the scroll and the arrow, and +unrolled the parchment; and there was writing thereon in black +ink of small letters, but very fair, and this is what he read +therein:</p> +<blockquote><p><i>Come thou to the Mountain Hall by the path +which thou knowest of</i>, <i>on the morrow of the day whereon +thou readest this</i>. <i>Rise betimes and come armed</i>, +<i>for there are other men than we in the wood</i>; <i>to whom +thy death should be a gain</i>. <i>When thou art come to +the Hall</i>, <i>thou shalt find no man therein</i>; <i>but a +great hound only</i>, <i>tied to a bench nigh the +daïs</i>. <i>Call him by his name</i>, <i>Sure-foot to +wit</i>, <i>and give him to eat from the meat upon the board</i>, +<i>and give him water </i><a name="page99"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 99</span><i>to drink</i>. <i>If the day +is then far spent</i>, <i>as it is like to be</i>, <i>abide thou +with the hound in the hall through the night</i>, <i>and eat of +what thou shalt find there</i>; <i>but see that the hound fares +not abroad till the morrow’s morn</i>: <i>then lead him out +and bring him to the north-east corner of the Hall</i>, <i>and he +shall lift the slot for thee that leadeth to the Shadowy +Yale</i>. <i>Follow him and all good go with thee</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Now when he had read this, earth seemed fair indeed about him, +and he scarce knew whither to turn or what to do to make the most +of his joy. He presently went back to Burgstead and into +the House of the Face, where all men were astir now, and the day +was clearing. He hid the shaft under his kirtle, for he +would not that any should see it; so he went to his shut-bed and +laid it up in his chest, wherein he kept his chiefest treasures; +but the writing on the scroll he set in his bosom and so hid +it. He went joyfully and proudly, as one who knoweth more +tidings and better than those around him. But Stone-face +beheld him, and said ‘Foster-son, thou art happy. Is +it that the spring-tide is in thy blood, and maketh thee blithe +with all things, or hast thou some new tidings? Nay, I +would not have an answer out of thee; but here is good rede: when +next thou goest into the wood, it were nought so ill for thee to +have a valiant old carle by thy side; one that loveth thee, and +would die for thee if need were; one who might watch when thou +wert seeking. Or else beware! for there are evil things +abroad in the Wood, and moreover the brethren of those two felons +who were slain at Carlstead.’</p> +<p>Then Gold-mane constrained himself to answer the old carle +softly; and he thanked him kindly for his offer, and said that so +it should be before long. So the talk between them fell, +and Stone-face went away somewhat well-pleased.</p> +<p>And now was Face-of-god become wary; and he would not draw +men’s eyes and speech on him; so he went afield with +Hall-face to deal with the lambs and the ewes, and did like other +men. No less wary was he in the hall that even, and neither +spake much nor little; and when his father spake to him +concerning the Bride, <a name="page100"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 100</span>and made game of him as a somewhat +sluggish groom, he did not change countenance, but answered +lightly what came to hand.</p> +<p>On the morrow ere the earliest dawn he was afoot, and he clad +himself and did on his hauberk, his father’s work, which +was fine-wrought and a stout defence, and reached down to his +knees; and over that he did on a goodly green kirtle well +embroidered: he girt his war-sword to his side, and it was the +work of his father’s father, and a very good sword: its +name was Dale-warden. He did a good helm on his head, and +slung a targe at his back, and took two spears in his hand, short +but strong-shafted and well-steeled. Thus arrayed he left +Burgstead before the dawn, and came to Wildlake’s Way and +betook him to the Woodland. He made no stop or stay on the +path, but ate his meat standing by an oak-tree close by the +half-blind track. When he came to the little wood-lawn, +where was the toft of the ancient house, he looked all round +about him, for he deemed that a likely place for those ugly +wood-wights to set on him; but nought befell him, though he +stooped and drank of the woodland rill warily enough. So he +passed on; and there were other places also where he fared +warily, because they seemed like to hold lurking felons; though +forsooth the whole wood might well serve their turn. But no +evil befell him, and at last, when it yet lacked an hour to +sunset, he came to the wood-lawn where Wild-wearer had made his +onset that other eve.</p> +<p>He went straight up to the house, his heart beating, and he +scarce believing but that he should find the Friend abiding him +there: but when he pushed the door it gave way before him at +once, and he entered and found no man therein, and the walls +stripped bare and no shield or weapon hanging on the +panels. But the hound he saw tied to a bench nigh the +daïs, and the bristles on the beast’s neck arose, and +he snarled on Face-of-god, and strained on his leathern +leash. Then Face-of-god went up to him and called him by +his name, Sure-foot, and gave him his hand to lick, and he +brought him water, and fed him with flesh from <a +name="page101"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 101</span>the meat on +the board; so the beast became friendly and wagged his tail and +whined and slobbered his hand.</p> +<p>Then he went all about the house, and saw and heard no living +thing therein save the mice in the panels and Sure-foot. So +he came back to the daïs, and sat him down at the board and +ate his fill, and thought concerning his case. And it came +into his mind that the Woman of the Mountain had some deed for +him to do which would try his manliness and exalt his fame; and +his heart rose high and he was glad, and he saw himself sitting +beside her on the daïs of a very fair hall beloved and +honoured of all the folk, and none had aught to say against him +or owed him any grudge. Thus he pleased himself in thinking +of the good days to come, sitting there till the hall grew dusk +and dark and the night-wind moaned about it.</p> +<p>Then after a while he arose and raked together the brands on +the hearth, and made light in the hall and looked to the +door. And he found there were bolts and bars thereto, so he +shot the bolts and drew the bars into their places and made all +as sure as might be. Then he brought Sure-foot down from +the daïs, and tied him up so that he might lie down athwart +the door, and then lay down his hauberk with his naked sword +ready to his hand, and slept long while.</p> +<p>When he awoke it was darker than when he had lain him for the +moon had set; yet he deemed that the day was at point of +breaking. So he fetched water and washed the night off him, +and saw a little glimmer of the dawn. Then he ate somewhat +of the meat on the board, and did on his helm and his other gear, +and unbarred the door, and led Sure-foot without, and brought him +to the north-east corner of the house, and in a little while he +lifted the slot and they departed, the man and the hound, just as +broke dawn from over the mountains.</p> +<p>Sure-foot led right into the heart of the pine-wood, and it +was dark enough therein, with nought but a feeble glimmer for +some while, and long was the way therethrough; but in two +hours’ <a name="page102"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +102</span>space was there something of a break, and they came to +the shore of a dark deep tarn on whose windless and green waters +the daylight shone fully. The hound skirted the water, and +led on unchecked till the trees began to grow smaller and the air +colder for all that the sun was higher; for they had been going +up and up all the way.</p> +<p>So at last after a six hours’ journey they came clean +out of the pine-wood, and before them lay the black wilderness of +the bare mountains, and beyond them, looking quite near now, the +great ice-peaks, the wall of the world. It was but an hour +short of noon by this time, and the high sun shone down on a +barren boggy moss which lay betwixt them and the rocky +waste. Sure-foot made no stay, but threaded the ways that +went betwixt the quagmires, and in another hour led Face-of-god +into a winding valley blinded by great rocks, and everywhere +stony and rough, with a trickle of water running amidst of +it. The hound fared on up the dale to where the water was +bridged by a great fallen stone, and so over it and up a steep +bent on the further side, on to a marvellously rough +mountain-neck, whiles mere black sand cumbered with scattered +rocks and stones, whiles beset with mires grown over with the +cottony mire-grass; here and there a little scanty grass growing; +otherwhere nought but dwarf willow ever dying ever growing, +mingled with moss or red-blossomed sengreen; and all blending +together into mere desolation.</p> +<p>Few living things they saw there; up on the neck a few sheep +were grazing the scanty grass, but there was none to tend them; +yet Face-of-god deemed the sight of them good, for there must be +men anigh who owned them. For the rest, the whimbrel +laughed across the mires; high up in heaven a great eagle was +hanging; once and again a grey fox leapt up before them, and the +heath-fowl whirred up from under Face-of-god’s feet. +A raven who was sitting croaking on a rock in that first dale +stirred uneasily on his perch as he saw them, and when they were +passed flapped his wings and flew after them croaking still.</p> +<p><a name="page103"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 103</span>Now +they fared over that neck somewhat east, making but slow way +because the ground was so broken and rocky; and in another +hour’s space Sure-foot led down-hill due east to where the +stony neck sank into another desolate miry heath still falling +toward the east, but whose further side was walled by a rampart +of crags cleft at their tops into marvellous-shapes, coal-black, +ungrassed and unmossed. Thitherward the hound led straight, +and Gold-mane followed wondering: as he drew near them he saw +that they were not very high, the tallest peak scant fifty feet +from the face of the heath.</p> +<p>They made their way through the scattered rocks at the foot of +these crags, till, just where the rock-wall seemed the closest, +the way through the stones turned into a path going through it +skew-wise; and it was now so clear a path that belike it had been +bettered by men’s hands. Down thereby Face-of-god +followed the hound, deeming that he was come to the gates of the +Shadowy Vale, and the path went down steeply and swiftly. +But when he had gone down a while, the rocks on his right hand +sank lower for a space, so that he could look over and see what +lay beneath.</p> +<p>There lay below him a long narrow vale quite plain at the +bottom, walled on the further side as on the hither by sheer +rocks of black stone. The plain was grown over with grass, +but he could see no tree therein: a deep river, dark and green, +ran through the vale, sometimes through its midmost, sometimes +lapping the further rock-wall: and he thought indeed that on many +a day in the year the sun would never shine on that valley.</p> +<p>Thus much he saw, and then the rocks rose again and shut it +from his sight; and at last they drew so close together over head +that he was in a way going through a cave with little daylight +coming from above, and in the end he was in a cave indeed and +mere darkness: but with the last feeble glimmer of light he +thought he saw carved on a smooth space of the living rock at his +left hand the image of a wolf.</p> +<p><a name="page104"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 104</span>This +cave lasted but a little way, and soon the hound and the man were +going once more between sheer black rocks, and the path grew +steeper yet and was cut into steps. At last there was a +sharp turn, and they stood on the top of a long stony scree, down +which Sure-foot bounded eagerly, giving tongue as he went; but +Face-of-god stood still and looked, for now the whole Dale lay +open before him.</p> +<p>That river ran from north to south, and at the south end the +cliffs drew so close to it that looking thence no outgate could +be seen; but at the north end there was as it were a dreary +street of rocks, the river flowing amidmost and leaving little +foothold on either side, somewhat as it was with the pass leading +from the mountains into Burgdale.</p> +<p>Amidmost of the Dale a little toward the north end he saw a +doom-ring of black stones, and hard by it an ancient hall builded +of the same black stone both wall and roof, and thitherward was +Sure-foot now running. Face-of-god looked up and down the +Dale and could see no break in the wall of sheer rock: toward the +southern end he saw a few booths and cots built roughly of stone +and thatched with turf; thereabout he saw a few folk moving +about, the most of whom seemed to be women and children; there +were some sheep and lambs near these cots, and a herd of fifty or +so of somewhat goodly mountain-kine were feeding higher up the +valley. He could look down into the river from where he +stood, and he saw that it ran between rocky banks going straight +down from the face of the meadow, which was rather high above the +water, so that it seemed little likely that the water should rise +over its banks, either in summer or winter; and in summer was it +like to be highest, because the vale was so near to the high +mountains and their snows.</p> +<h2><a name="page105"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +105</span>CHAPTER XVIII. FACE-OF-GOD TALKETH WITH THE +FRIEND IN SHADOWY VALE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was now about two hours after +noon, and a broad band of sunlight lay upon the grass of the vale +below Gold-mane’s feet; he went lightly down the scree, and +strode forward over the level grass toward the Doom-ring, his +helm and war-gear glittering bright in the sun. He must +needs go through the Doom-ring to come to the Hall, and as he +stepped out from behind the last of the big upright-stones, he +saw a woman standing on the threshold of the Hall-door, which was +but some score of paces from him, and knew her at once for the +Friend.</p> +<p>She was clad like himself in a green kirtle gaily embroidered +and fitting close to her body, and had no gown or cloak over it; +she had a golden fillet on her head beset with blue mountain +stones, and her hair hung loose behind her.</p> +<p>Her beauty was so exceeding, and so far beyond all memory of +her that his mind had held, that once more fear of her fell upon +Face-of-god, and he stood still with beating heart till she +should speak to him. But she came forward swiftly with both +her hands held out, smiling and happy-faced, and looking very +kindly on him, and she took his hands and said to him:</p> +<p>‘Now welcome, Gold-mane, welcome, Face-of-god! and twice +welcome art thou and threefold. Lo! this is the day that +thou asked for: art thou happy in it?’</p> +<p>He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them timorously, +but said nought; and therewithal Sure-foot came running forth +from the Hall, and fell to bounding round about them, barking +noisily after the manner of dogs who have met their masters +again; and still she held his hands and beheld him kindly. +Then she called the hound to her, and patted him on the neck and +quieted him, and then turned to Face-of-god and laughed happily +and said:</p> +<p>‘I do not bid thee hold thy peace; yet thou sayest +nought. Is well with thee?’</p> +<p><a name="page106"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +106</span>‘Yea,’ he said, ‘and more than +well.’</p> +<p>‘Thou seemest to me a goodly warrior,’ she said; +‘hast thou met any foemen yesterday or this +morning?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said he, ‘none hindered me; thou hast +made the ways easy to me.’</p> +<p>She said soberly, ‘Such as I might do, I did. But +we may not wield everything, for our foes are many, and I feared +for thee. But come thou into our house, which is ours, and +far more ours than the booth before the pine-wood.’</p> +<p>She took his hand again and led him toward the door, but +Face-of-god looked up, and above the lintel he saw carved on the +dark stone that image of the Wolf, even as he had seen it carved +on Wood-grey’s tie-beam; and therewith such thoughts came +into his mind that he stopped to look, pressing the +Friend’s hand hard as though bidding her note it. The +stone wherein the image was carved was darker than the other +building stones, and might be called black; the jaws of the +wood-beast were open and gaping, and had been painted with +cinnabar, but wind and weather had worn away the most of the +colour.</p> +<p>Spake the Friend: ‘So it is: thou beholdest the token of +the God and Father of out Fathers, that telleth the tale of so +many days, that the days which now pass by us be to them but as +the drop in the sea of waters. Thou beholdest the sign of +our sorrow, the memory of our wrong; yet is it also the token of +our hope. Maybe it shall lead thee far.’</p> +<p>‘Whither?’ said he. But she answered not a +great while, and he looked at her as she stood a-gazing on the +image, and saw how the tears stole out of her eyes and ran adown +her cheeks. Then again came the thought to him of +Wood-grey’s hall, and the women of the kindred standing +before the Wolf and singing of him; and though there was little +comeliness in them and she was so exceeding beauteous, he could +not but deem that they were akin to her.</p> +<p>But after a while she wiped the tears from her face and turned +<a name="page107"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 107</span>to him +and said: ‘My friend, the Wolf shall lead thee no-whither +but where I also shall be, whatsoever peril or grief may beset +the road or lurk at the ending thereof. Thou shalt be no +thrall, to labour while I look on.’</p> +<p>His heart swelled within him as she spoke, and he was at point +to beseech her love that moment; but now her face had grown gay +and bright again, and she said while he was gathering words to +speak withal:</p> +<p>‘Come in, Gold-mane, come into our house; for I have +many things to say to thee. And moreover thou art so +hushed, and so fearsome in thy mail, that I think thou yet +deemest me to be a Wight of the Waste, such as Stone-face thy +Fosterer told thee tales of, and forewarned thee. So would +I eat before thee, and sign the meat with the sign of the +Earth-god’s Hammer, to show thee that he is in error +concerning me, and that I am a very woman flesh and fell, as my +kindred were before me.’</p> +<p>He laughed and was exceeding glad, and said: ‘Tell me +now, kind friend, dost thou deem that Stone-face’s tales +are mere mockery of his dreams, and that he is beguiled by empty +semblances or less? Or are there such Wights in the +Waste.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘the man is a true man; and +of these things are there many ancient tales which we may not +doubt. Yet so it is that such wights have I never yet seen, +nor aught to scare me save evil men: belike it is that I have +been over-much busied in dealing with sorrow and ruin to look +after them: or it may be that they feared me and the +wrath-breeding grief of the kindred.’</p> +<p>He looked at her earnestly, and the wisdom of her heart seemed +to enter into his; but she said: ‘It is of men we must +talk, and of me and thee. Come with me, my +friend.’</p> +<p>And she stepped lightly over the threshold and drew him +in. The Hall was stern and grim and somewhat dusky, for its +windows were but small: it was all of stone, both walls and +roof. There was no timber-work therein save the benches and +chairs, a little about the doors at the lower end that led to the +buttery <a name="page108"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +108</span>and out-bowers; and this seemed to have been wrought of +late years; yea, the chairs against the gable on the daïs +were of stone built into the wall, adorned with carving somewhat +sparingly, the image of the Wolf being done over the midmost of +them. He looked up and down the Hall, and deemed it some +seventy feet over all from end to end; and he could see in the +dimness those same goodly hangings on the wall which he had seen +in the woodland booth.</p> +<p>She led him up to the daïs, and stood there leaning up +against the arm of one of those stone seats silent for a while; +then she turned and looked at him, and said:</p> +<p>‘Yea, thou lookest a goodly warrior; yet am I glad that +thou camest hither without battle. Tell me, +Gold-mane,’ she said, taking one of his spears from his +hand, ‘art thou deft with the spear?’</p> +<p>‘I have been called so,’ said he.</p> +<p>She looked at him sweetly and said: ‘Canst thou show me +the feat of spear-throwing in this Hall, or shall we wend outside +presently that I may see thee throw?’</p> +<p>‘The Hall sufficeth,’ he said. ‘Shall +I set this steel in the lintel of the buttery door +yonder?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, if thou canst,’ she said.</p> +<p>He smiled and took the spear from her, and poised it and shook +it till it quivered again, then suddenly drew back his arm and +cast, and the shaft sped whistling down the dim hall, and smote +the aforesaid door-lintel and stuck there quivering: then he +sprang down from the daïs, and ran down the hall, and put +forth his hand and pulled it forth from the wood, and was on the +daïs again in a trice, and cast again, and the second time +set the spear in the same place, and then took his other spear +from the board and cast it, and there stood the two staves in the +wood side by side; then he went soberly down the hall and drew +them both out of the wood and came back to her, while she stood +watching him, her cheek flushed, her lips a little parted.</p> +<p><a name="page109"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 109</span>She +said: ‘Good spear-casting, forsooth! and far above what our +folk can do, who be no great throwers of the spear.’</p> +<p>Gold-mane laughed: ‘Sooth is that,’ said he, +‘or hardly were I here to teach thee +spear-throwing.’</p> +<p>‘Wilt thou <i>never</i> be paid for that simple +onslaught?’ she said.</p> +<p>‘Have I been paid then?’ said he.</p> +<p>She reddened, for she remembered her word to him on the +mountain; and he put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her +cheek, but timorously; nor did she withstand him or shrink aback, +but said soberly:</p> +<p>‘Good indeed is thy spear-throwing, and meseems my +brother will love thee when he hath seen thee strike a stroke or +two in wrath. But, fair warrior, there be no foemen here: +so get thee to the lower end of the Hall, and in the bower beyond +shalt thou find fresh water; there wash the waste from off thee, +and do off thine helm and hauberk, and come back speedily and eat +with me; for I hunger, and so dost thou.’</p> +<p>He did as she bade him, and came back presently bearing in his +hand both helm and hauberk, and he looked light-limbed and trim +and lissome, an exceeding goodly man.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX. THE FAIR WOMAN TELLETH FACE-OF-GOD OF HER +KINDRED.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> he came back to the daïs +he saw that there was meat upon the board, and the Friend said to +him:</p> +<p>‘Now art thou Gold-mane indeed: but come now, sit by me +and eat, though the Wood-woman giveth thee but a sorry banquet, O +guest; but from the Dale it is, and we be too far now from the +dwellings of men to have delicate meat on the board, though +to-night when they come back thy cheer shall be better. Yet +even then thou shalt have no such dainties as Stone-face hath +imagined for thee at the hands of the Wood-wight.’</p> +<p><a name="page110"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 110</span>She +laughed therewith, and he no less; and in sooth the meat was but +simple, of curds and new cheese, meat of the herdsmen. But +Face-of-god said gaily: ‘Sweet it shall be to me; good is +all that the Friend giveth.’</p> +<p>Then she raised her hand and made the sign of the Hammer over +the board, and looked up at him and said:</p> +<p>‘Hath the Earth-god changed my face, Gold-mane, to what +I verily am?’</p> +<p>He held his face close to hers and looked into it, and +him-seemed it was as pure as the waters of a mountain lake, and +as fine and well-wrought every deal of it as when his father had +wrought in his stithy many days and fashioned a small piece of +great mastery. He was ashamed to kiss her again, but he +said to himself, ‘This is the fairest woman of the world, +whom I have sworn to wed this year.’ Then he spake +aloud and said:</p> +<p>‘I see the face of the Friend, and it will not change to +me.’</p> +<p>Again she reddened a little, and the happy look in her face +seemed to grow yet sweeter, and he was bewildered with longing +and delight.</p> +<p>But she stood up and went to an ambrye in the wall and brought +forth a horn shod and lipped with silver of ancient fashion, and +she poured wine into it and held it forth and said:</p> +<p>‘O guest from the Dale, I pledge thee! and when thou +hast drunk to me in turn we will talk of weighty matters. +For indeed I bear hopes in my hands too heavy for the daughters +of men to bear; and thou art a chieftain’s son, and mayst +well help me to bear them; so let us talk simply and without +guile, as folk that trust one another.’</p> +<p>So she drank and held out the horn to him, and he took the +horn and her hand both, and he kissed her hand and said:</p> +<p>‘Here in this Hall I drink to the Sons of the Wolf, +whosoever they be.’ Therewith he drank and he said: +‘Simply and guilelessly indeed will I talk with thee; for I +am weary of lies, and for thy sake have I told a many.’</p> +<p><a name="page111"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +111</span>‘Thou shalt tell no more,’ she said; +‘and as for the health thou hast drunk, it is good, and +shall profit thee. Now sit we here in these ancient seats +and let us talk.’</p> +<p>So they sat them down while the sun was westering in the March +afternoon, and she said:</p> +<p>‘Tell me first what tidings have been in the +Dale.’</p> +<p>So he told her of the ransackings and of the murder at +Carlstead.</p> +<p>She said: ‘These tidings have we heard before, and some +deal of them we know better than ye do, or can; for we were the +ransackers of Penny-thumb and Harts-bane. Thereof will I +say more presently. What other tidings hast thou to tell +of? What oaths were sworn upon the Boar last +Yule?’</p> +<p>So he told her of the oath of Bristler the son of +Brightling. She smiled and said: ‘He shall keep his +oath, and yet redden no blade.’</p> +<p>Then he told of his father’s oath, and she said:</p> +<p>‘It is good; but even so would he do and no oath +sworn. All men may trust Iron-face. And thou, my +friend, what oath didst thou swear?’</p> +<p>His face grew somewhat troubled as he said: ‘I swore to +wed the fairest woman in the world, though the Dalesmen gainsaid +me, and they beyond the Dale.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and there is no need to +ask thee whom thou didst mean by thy “fairest woman,” +for I have seen that thou deemest me fair enough. My +friend, maybe thy kindred will be against it, and the kindred of +the Bride; and it might be that my kindred would have gainsaid it +if things were not as they are. But though all men gainsay +it, yet will not I. It is meet and right that we twain +wed.’</p> +<p>She spake very soberly and quietly, but when she had spoken +there was nothing in his heart but joy and gladness: yet shame of +her loveliness refrained him, and he cast down his eyes before +hers. Then she said in a kind voice:</p> +<p>‘I know thee, how glad thou art of this word of mine, +because <a name="page112"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +112</span>thou lookest on me with eyes of love, and thinkest of +me as better than I am; though I am no ill woman and no +beguiler. But this is not all that I have to say to thee, +though it be much; for there are more folk in the world than thou +and I only. But I told thee this first, that thou mightest +trust me in all things. So, my friend, if thou canst, +refrain thy joy and thy longing a little, and hearken to what +concerneth thee and me, and thy people and mine.’</p> +<p>‘Fair woman and sweet friend,’ he said, +‘thou knowest of a gladness which is hard to bear if one +must lay it aside for a while; and of a longing which is hard to +refrain if it mingle with another longing—knowest thou +not?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘I know it.’</p> +<p>‘Yet,’ said Face-of-god, ‘I will forbear as +thou biddest me. Tell me, then, what were the felons who +were slain at Carlstead? Knowest thou of them?’</p> +<p>‘Over well,’ she said, ‘they are our foes +this many a year; and since we met last autumn they have become +foes of you Dalesmen also. Soon shall ye have tidings of +them; and it was against them that I bade thee arm +yesterday.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Is it against them that thou wouldst +have us do battle along with thy folk?’</p> +<p>‘So it is,’ she said; ‘no other foemen have +we. And now, Gold-mane, thou art become a friend of the +Wolf, and shalt before long be of affinity with our House; that +other day thou didst ask me to tell thee of me and mine, and now +will I do according to thine asking. Short shall my tale +be; because maybe thou shalt hear it told again, and in goodly +wise, before thine whole folk.</p> +<p>‘As thou wottest we be now outlaws and Wolves’ +Heads; and whiles we lift the gear of men, but ever if we may of +ill men and not of good; there is no worthy goodman of the Dale +from whom we would take one hoof, or a skin of wine, or a cake of +wax.</p> +<p>‘Wherefore are we outlaws? Because we have been +driven <a name="page113"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +113</span>from our own, and we bore away our lives and our +weapons, and little else; and for our lands, thou seest this Vale +in the howling wilderness and how narrow and poor it is, though +it hath been the nurse of warriors in time past.</p> +<p>‘Hearken! Time long ago came the kindred of the +Wolf to these Mountains of the World; and they were in a pass in +the stony maze and the utter wilderness of the Mountains, and the +foe was behind them in numbers not to be borne up against. +And so it befell that the pass forked, and there were two ways +before our Folk; and one part of them would take the way to the +north and the other the way to the south; and they could not +agree which way the whole Folk should take. So they +sundered into two companies, and one took one way and one +another. Now as to those who fared by the southern road, we +knew not what befell them, nor for long and long had we any tale +of them.</p> +<p>‘But we who took the northern road, we happened on this +Vale amidst the wilderness, and we were weary of fleeing from the +over-mastering foe; and the dale seemed enough, and a refuge, and +a place to dwell in, and no man was there before us, and few were +like to find it, and we were but a few. So we dwelt here in +this Vale for as wild as it is, the place where the sun shineth +never in the winter, and scant is the summer sunshine +therein. Here we raised a Doom-ring and builded us a Hall, +wherein thou now sittest beside me, O friend, and we dwelt here +many seasons.</p> +<p>‘We had a few sheep in the wilderness, and a few neat +fed down the grass of the Vale; and we found gems and copper in +the rocks about us wherewith at whiles to chaffer with the +aliens, and fish we drew from our river the Shivering +Flood. Also it is not to be hidden that in those days we +did not spare to lift the goods of men; yea, whiles would our +warriors fare down unto the edges of the Plain and lie in wait +there till the time served, and then drive the spoil from under +the very walls of the <a name="page114"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 114</span>Cities. Our men were not +little-hearted, nor did our women lament the death of warriors +over-much, for they were there to bear more warriors to the +Folk.</p> +<p>‘But the seasons passed, and the Folk multiplied in +Shadowy Vale, and livelihood seemed like to fail them, and needs +must they seek wider lands. So by ways which thou wilt one +day wot of, we came into a valley that lieth north-west of +Shadowy Vale: a land like thine of Burgdale, or better; wide it +was, plenteous of grass and trees, well watered, full of all +things that man can desire.</p> +<p>‘Were there men before us in this Dale? sayest +thou. Yea, but not very many, and they feeble in battle, +weak of heart, though strong of body. These, when they saw +the Sons of the Wolf with weapons in their hands, felt themselves +puny before us, and their hearts failed them; and they came to us +with gifts, and offered to share the Dale between them and us, +for they said there was enough for both folks. So we took +their offer and became their friends; and some of our Houses +wedded wives of the strangers, and gave them their women to +wife. Therein they did amiss; for the blended Folk as the +generations passed became softer than our blood, and many were +untrusty and greedy and tyrannous, and the days of the whoredom +fell upon us, and when we deemed ourselves the mightiest then +were we the nearest to our fall. But the House whereof I am +would never wed with these Westlanders, and other Houses there +were who had affinity with us who chiefly wedded with us of the +Wolf, and their fathers had come with ours into that fruitful +Dale; and these were called the Red Hand, and the Silver Arm, and +the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged Sword. Thou hast heard +those names once before, friend?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ he said, and as he spoke the picture of +that other day came back to him, and he called to mind all that +he had said, and his happiness of that hour seemed the more and +the sweeter for that memory.</p> +<p><a name="page115"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 115</span>She +went on: ‘Fair and goodly is that Dale as mine own eyes +have seen, and plentiful of all things, and up in its mountains +to the east are caves and pits whence silver is digged +abundantly; therefore is the Dale called Silver-dale. Hast +thou heard thereof, my friend?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘though I have +marvelled whence ye gat such foison of silver.’</p> +<p>He looked on her and marvelled, for now she seemed as if it +were another woman: her eyes were gleaming bright, her lips were +parted; there was a bright red flush on the pommels of her two +cheeks as she spake again and said:</p> +<p>‘Happy lived the Folk in Silver-dale for many and many +winters and summers: the seasons were good and no lack was there: +little sickness there was and less war, and all seemed better +than well. It is strange that ye Dalesmen have not heard of +Silver-dale.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said he, ‘but I have not; of +Rose-dale have I heard, as a land very far away: but no further +do we know of toward that aírt. Lieth Silver-dale +anywhere nigh to Rose-dale?’</p> +<p>She said: ‘It is the next dale to it, yet is it a far +journey betwixt the two, for the ice-sea pusheth a horn in +betwixt them; and even below the ice the mountain-neck is +passable to none save a bold crag-climber, and to him only +bearing his life in his hands. But, my friend, I am but +lingering over my tale, because it grieveth me sore to have to +tell it. Hearken then! In the days when I had seen +but ten summers, and my brother was a very young man, but +exceeding strong, and as beautiful as thou art now, war fell on +us without rumour or warning; for there swarmed into Silver-dale, +though not by the ways whereby we had entered it, a host of +aliens, short of stature, crooked of limb, foul of aspect, but +fierce warriors and armed full well: they were men having no +country to go back to, though they had no women or children with +them, as we had when we were young in these lands, but used all +women whom they took as their beastly lust bade them, making them +their thralls if they <a name="page116"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 116</span>slew them not. Soon we found +that these foemen asked no more of us than all we had, and +therewithal our lives to be cast away or used for their service +as beasts of burden or pleasure. There then we gathered our +fighting-men and withstood them; and if we had been all of the +kindreds of the Wolf and the fruit of the wives of warriors, we +should have driven back these felons and saved the Dale, though +it maybe more than half ruined: but the most part of us were of +that mingled blood, or of the generations of the Dalesmen whom we +had conquered long ago, and stout as they were of body their +hearts failed them, and they gave themselves up to the aliens to +be as their oxen and asses.</p> +<p>‘Why make a long tale of it? We who were left, and +could brook death but not thraldom, fought it out together, women +as well as men, till the sweetness of life and a happy chance for +escape bid us flee, vanquished but free men. For at the end +of three days’ fight we had been driven up to the +easternmost end of the Dale, and up anigh to the jaws of the pass +whereby the Folk had first come into Silver-dale, and we had +those with us who knew every cranny of that way, while to +strangers who knew it not it was utterly impassable; night was +coming on also, and even those murder-carles were weary with +slaying; and, moreover, on this last day, when they saw that they +had won all, they were fighting to keep, and not to slay, and a +few stubborn carles and queens, of what use would they be, or +where was the gain of risking life to win them?</p> +<p>‘So they forbore us, and night came on moonless and +dark; and it was the early spring season, when the days are not +yet long, and so by night and cloud we fled away, and back again +to Shadowy Vale.</p> +<p>‘Forsooth, we were but a few; for when we were gotten +into this Vale, this strip of grass and water in the wilderness, +and had told up our company, we were but two hundred and thirty +and five of men and women and children. For there were an +hundred and thirty and three grown men of all ages, and of women +grown seventy and five, and one score and seven children, whereof +I was one; <a name="page117"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +117</span>for, as thou mayst deem, it was easier for grown men +with weapons in their hands to escape from that slaughter than +for women and children.</p> +<p>‘There sat we in yonder Doom-ring and took counsel, and +to some it seemed good that we should all dwell together in +Shadowy Vale, and beset the skirts of the foemen till the days +should better; but others deemed that there was little avail +therein; and there was a mighty man of the kindred, Stone-wolf by +name, a man of middle-age, and he said, that late in life had he +tasted of war, and though the banquet was made bitter with +defeat, yet did the meat seem wholesome to him. “Come +down with me to the Cities of the Plain,” said he, +“all you who are stout warriors; and leave we here the old +men and the swains and the women and children. Hateful are +the folk there, and full of malice, but soft withal and +dastardly. Let us go down thither and make ourselves strong +amongst them, and sell our valour for their wealth till we come +to rule them, and they make us their kings, and we establish the +Folk of the Wolf amongst the aliens; then will we come back +hither and bring away that which we have left.”</p> +<p>‘So he spake, and the more part of the warriors yea said +his rede, and they went with him to the Westland, and amongst +these was my brother Folk-might (for that is his name in the +kindred). And I sorrowed at his departure, for he had borne +me thither out of the flames and the clash of swords and the +press of battle, and to me had he ever been kind and loving, +albeit he hath had the Words of hard and froward used on him full +oft.</p> +<p>‘So in this Vale abode we that were left, and the +seasons passed; some of the elders died, and some of the children +also; but more children were born, for amongst us were men and +women to whom it was lawful to wed with each other. Even +with this scanty remnant was left some of the life of the kindred +of old days; and after we had been here but a little while, the +young men, yea and the old also, and even some of the women, +would steal through passes that we, and we only, knew of, and +would fall upon <a name="page118"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +118</span>the Aliens in Silver-dale as occasion served, and lift +their goods both live and dead; and this became both a craft and +a pastime amongst us. Nor may I hide that we sometimes went +lifting otherwhere; for in the summer and autumn we would fare +west a little and abide in the woods the season through, and hunt +the deer thereof, and whiles would we drive the spoil from the +scattered folk not far from your Shepherd-Folk; but with the +Shepherds themselves and with you Dalesmen we meddled not.</p> +<p>‘Now that little wood-lawn with the toft of an ancient +dwelling in it, wherein, saith Bow-may, thou didst once rest, was +one of our summer abodes; and later on we built the hall under +the pine-wood that thou knowest.</p> +<p>‘Thus then grew up our young men; and our maids were +little softer; e’en such as Bow-may is (and kind is she +withal), and it seemed in very sooth as if the Spirit of the Wolf +was with us, and the roughness of the Waste made us fierce; and +law we had not and heeded not, though love was amongst +us.’</p> +<p>She stopped awhile and fell a-musing, and her face softened, +and she turned to him with that sweet happy look upon it and +said:</p> +<p>‘Desolate and dreary is the Dale, thou deemest, friend; +and yet for me I love it and its dark-green water, and it is to +me as if the Fathers of the kindred visit it and hold converse +with us; and there I grew up when I was little, before I knew +what a woman was, and strange communings had I with the +wilderness. Friend, when we are wedded, and thou art a +great chieftain, as thou wilt be, I shall ask of thee the boon to +suffer me to abide here at whiles that I may remember the days +when I was little and the love of the kindred waxed in +me.’</p> +<p>‘This is but a little thing to ask,’ said +Face-of-god; ‘I would thou hadst asked me more.’</p> +<p>‘Fear not,’ she said, ‘I shall ask thee for +much and many things; and some of them belike thou shalt deny +me.’</p> +<p>He shook his head; but she smiled in his face and said:</p> +<p>‘Yea, so it is, friend; but hearken. The seasons +passed, and <a name="page119"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +119</span>six years wore, and I was grown a tall slim maiden, +fleet of foot and able to endure toil enough, though I never bore +weapons, nor have done. So on a fair even of midsummer when +we were together, the most of us, round about this Hall and the +Doom-ring, we saw a tall man in bright war-gear come forth into +the Dale by the path that thou camest, and then another and +another till there were two score and seven men-at-arms standing +on the grass below the scree yonder; by that time had we gotten +some weapons in our hands, and we stood together to meet the +new-comers, but they drew no sword and notched no shaft, but came +towards us laughing and joyous, and lo! it was my brother +Folk-might and his men, those that were left of them, come back +to us from the Westland.</p> +<p>‘Glad indeed was I to behold him; and for him when he +had taken me in his arms and looked up and down the Dale, he +cried out: ‘In many fair places and many rich dwellings +have I been; but this is the hour that I have looked +for.’</p> +<p>‘Now when we asked him concerning Stone-wolf and the +others who were missing (for ten tens of stalwarth men had fared +to the Westland), he swept out his hand toward the west and said +with a solemn face: “There they lie, and grass groweth over +their bones, and we who have come aback, and ye who have abided, +these are now the children of the Wolf: there are no more now on +the earth.”</p> +<p>‘Let be! It was a fair even and high was the feast +in the Hall that night, and sweet was the converse with our folk +come back. A glad man was my brother Folk-might when he +heard that for years past we had been lifting the gear of men, +and chiefly of the Aliens in Silver-dale: and he himself was +become learned in war and a deft leader of men.</p> +<p>‘So the days passed and the seasons, and we lived on as +we might; but with Folk-might’s return there began to grow +up in all our hearts what had long been flourishing in mine, and +that was the hope of one day winning back our own again, and +dying amidst the dear groves of Silver-dale. Within these +years we had <a name="page120"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +120</span>increased somewhat in number; for if we had lost those +warriors in the Westland, and some old men who had died in the +Dale, yet our children had grown up (I have now seen twenty and +one summers) and more were growing up. Moreover, after the +first year, from the time when we began to fall upon the Dusky +Men of Silver-dale, from time to time they who went on such +adventures set free such thralls of our blood as they could fall +in with and whom they could trust in, and they dwelt (and yet +dwell) with us in the Dale: first and last we have taken in three +score and twelve of such men, and a score of women-thralls +withal.</p> +<p>‘Now during these seasons, and not very long ago, after +I was a woman grown, the thought came to me, and to Folk-might +also, that there were kindreds of the people dwelling anear us +whom we might so deal with that they should become our friends +and brothers in arms, and that through them we might win back +Silver-dale.</p> +<p>‘Of Rose-dale we wotted already that the Folk were +nought of our blood, feeble in the field, cowed by the Dusky Men, +and at last made thralls to them; so nought was to do +there. But Folk-might went to and fro to gather tidings: at +whiles I with him, at whiles one or more of Wood-father’s +children, who with their father and mother and Bow-may have +abided in the Vale ever since the Great Undoing.</p> +<p>‘Soon he fell in with thy Folk, and first of all with +the Woodlanders, and that was a joy to him; for wot ye +what? He got to know that these men were the children of +those of our Folk who had sundered from us in the mountain passes +time long and long ago; and he loved them, for he saw that they +were hardy and trusty, and warriors at heart.</p> +<p>‘Then he went amongst the Shepherd-Folk, and he deemed +them good men easily stirred, and deemed that they might soon be +won to friendship; and he knew that they were mostly come from +the Houses of the Woodlanders, so that they also were of the +kindred.</p> +<p>‘And last he came into Burgdale, and found there a merry +<a name="page121"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 121</span>and +happy Folk, little wont to war, but stout-hearted, and nowise +puny either of body or soul; he went there often and learned much +about them, and deemed that they would not be hard to win to +fellowship. And he found that the House of the Face was the +chiefest house there; and that the Alderman and his sons were +well beloved of all the folk, and that they were the men to be +won first, since through them should all others be won. I +also went to Burgstead with him twice, as I told thee erst; and I +saw thee, and I deemed that thou wouldest lightly become our +friend; and it came into my mind that I myself might wed thee, +and that the House of the Face thereby might have affinity +thenceforth with the Children of the Wolf.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Why didst thou deem thus of me, O +friend?’</p> +<p>She laughed and said: ‘Dost thou long to hear me say the +words when thou knowest my thought well? So be it. I +saw thee both young and fair; and I knew thee to be the son of a +noble, worthy, guileless man and of a beauteous woman of great +wits and good rede. And I found thee to be kind and +open-handed and simple like thy father, and like thy mother wiser +than thou thyself knew of thyself; and that thou wert desirous of +deeds and fain of women.’</p> +<p>She was silent for a while, and he also: then he said: +‘Didst thou draw me to the woods and to thee?’</p> +<p>She reddened and said: ‘I am no spell-wife: but true it +is that Wood-mother made a waxen image of thee, and thrust +through the heart thereof the pin of my girdle-buckle, and +stroked it every morning with an oak-bough over which she had +sung spells. But dost thou not remember, Gold-mane, how +that one day last Hay-month, as ye were resting in the meadows in +the cool of the evening, there came to you a minstrel that played +to you on the fiddle, and therewith sang a song that melted all +your hearts, and that this song told of the Wild-wood, and what +was therein of desire and peril and beguiling and death, and love +unto Death itself? Dost thou remember, friend?’</p> +<p><a name="page122"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +122</span>‘Yea,’ he said, ‘and how when the +minstrel was done Stone-face fell to telling us more tales yet of +the woodland, and the minstrel sang again and yet again, till his +tales had entered into my very heart.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and that minstrel was +Wood-wont; and I sent him to sing to thee and thine, deeming that +if thou didst hearken, thou would’st seek the woodland and +happen upon us.’</p> +<p>He laughed and said: ‘Thou didst not doubt but that if +we met, thou mightest do with me as thou wouldest?’</p> +<p>‘So it is,’ she said, ‘that I doubted it +little.’</p> +<p>‘Therein wert thou wise,’ said Face-of-god; +‘but now that we are talking without guile to each other, +mightest thou tell me wherefore it was that Folk-might made that +onslaught upon me? For certain it is that he was minded to +slay me.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘It was sooth what I told thee, that whiles he +groweth so battle-eager that whatso edge-tool he beareth must +needs come out of the scabbard; but there was more in it than +that, which I could not tell thee erst. Two days before thy +coming he had been down to Burgstead in the guise of an old carle +such as thou sawest him with me in the market-place. There +was he guested in your Hall, and once more saw thee and the Bride +together; and he saw the eyes of love wherewith she looked on +thee (for so much he told me), and deemed that thou didst take +her love but lightly. And he himself looked on her with +such love (and this he told me not) that he deemed nought good +enough for her, and would have had thee give thyself up wholly to +her; for my brother is a generous man, my friend. So when I +told him on the morn of that day whereon we met that we looked to +see thee that eve (for indeed I am somewhat foreseeing), he said: +“Look thou, Sun-beam, if he cometh, it is not unlike that I +shall drive a spear through him.” +“Wherefore?” said I; “can he serve our turn +when he is dead?” Said he: “I care +little. Mine own turn will I serve. Thou sayest +<i>Wherefore</i>? I tell thee this stripling beguileth to +her torment the fairest woman that is in the <a +name="page123"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +123</span>world—such an one as is meet to be the mother of +chieftains, and to stand by warriors in their day of peril. +I have seen her; and thus have I seen her.” Then said +I: “Greatly forsooth shalt thou pleasure her by slaying +him!” And he answered: “I shall pleasure +myself. And one day she shall thank me, when she taketh my +hand in hers and we go together to the Bride-bed.” +Therewith came over me a clear foresight of the hours to come, +and I said to him: “Yea, Folk-might, cast the spear and +draw the sword; but him thou shalt not slay: and thou shalt one +day see him standing with us before the shafts of the Dusky +Men.” So I spake; but he looked fiercely at me, and +departed and shunned me all that day, and by good hap I was hard +at hand when thou drewest nigh our abode. Nay, Gold-mane, +what would’st thou with thy sword? Why art thou so +red and wrathful? Would’st thou fight with my brother +because he loveth thy friend, thine old playmate, thy kinswoman, +and thinketh pity of her sorrow?’</p> +<p>He said, with knit brow and gleaming eyes: ‘Would the +man take her away from me perforce?’</p> +<p>‘My friend,’ she said, ‘thou art not yet so +wise as not to be a fool at whiles. Is it not so that she +herself hath taken herself from thee, since she hath come to know +that thou hast given thyself to another? Hath she noted +nought of thee this winter and spring? Is she well pleased +with the ways of thee?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Thou hast spoken simply with me, and I will do +no less with thee. It was but four days agone that she did +me to wit that she knew of me how I sought my love on the +Mountain; and she put me to sore shame, and afterwards I wept for +her sorrow.’</p> +<p>Therewith he told her all that the Bride had said to him, as +he well might, for he had forgotten no word of it.</p> +<p>Then said the Friend: ‘She shall have the token that she +craveth, and it is I that shall give it to her.’</p> +<p>Therewith she took from her finger a ring wherein was set a +very fair changeful mountain-stone, and gave it to him, and +said:</p> +<p><a name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +124</span>‘Thou shalt give her this and tell her whence +thou hadst it; and tell her that I bid her remember that +To-morrow is a new day.’</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX. THOSE TWO TOGETHER HOLD THE RING OF THE +EARTH-GOD.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">And</span> now they fell silent both of +them, and sat hearkening the sounds of the Dale, from the whistle +of the plover down by the water-side to the far-off voices of the +children and maidens about the kine in the lower meadows. +At last Gold-mane took up the word and said:</p> +<p>‘Sweet friend, tell me the uttermost of what thou +would’st have of me. Is it not that I should stand by +thee and thine in the Folk-mote of the Dalesmen, and speak for +you when ye pray us for help against your foemen; and then again +that I do my best when ye and we are arrayed for battle against +the Dusky Men? This is easy to do, and great is the reward +thou offerest me.’</p> +<p>‘I look for this service of thee,’ she said, +‘and none other.’</p> +<p>‘And when I go down to the battle,’ said he, +‘shalt thou be sorry for our sundering?’</p> +<p>She said: ‘There shall be no sundering; I shall wend +with thee.’</p> +<p>Said he: ‘And if I were slain in the battle, +would’st thou lament me?’</p> +<p>‘Thou shalt not be slain,’ she said.</p> +<p>Again was there silence betwixt them, till at last he +said:</p> +<p>‘This then is why thou didst draw me to thee in the +Wild-wood?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said she.</p> +<p>Again for a while no word was spoken, and Face-of-god looked +on her till she cast her eyes down before him.</p> +<p>Then at last he spake, and the colour came and went in his +face as he said: ‘Tell me thy name what it is.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘I am called the Sun-beam.’</p> +<p>Then he said, and his voice trembled therewith: ‘O +Sun-beam, I have been seeking pleasant and cunning words, and can +find <a name="page125"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +125</span>none such. But tell me this if thou wilt: dost +thou desire me as I desire thee? or is it that thou wilt suffer +me to wed thee and bed thee at last as mere payment for the help +that I shall give to thee and thine? Nay, doubt it not that +I will take the payment, if this is what thou wilt give me and +nought else. Yet tell me.’</p> +<p>Her face grew troubled, and she said:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane, maybe that thou hast now asked me one +question too many; for this is no fair game to be played between +us. For thee, as I deem, there are this day but two people +in the world, and that is thou and I, and the earth is for us two +alone. But, my friend, though I have seen but twenty and +one summers, it is nowise so with me, and to me there are many in +the world; and chiefly the Folk of the Wolf, amidst whose very +heart I have grown up. Moreover, I can think of her whom I +have supplanted, the Bride to wit; and I know her, and how bitter +and empty her days shall be for a while, and how vain all our +redes for her shall seem to her. Yea, I know her sorrow, +and see it and grieve for it: so canst not thou, unless thou +verily see her before thee, her face unhappy, and her voice +changed and hard. Well, I will tell thee what thou +askest. When I drew thee to me on the Mountain I thought +but of the friendship and brotherhood to be knitted up between +our two Folks, nor did I anywise desire thy love of a young +man. But when I saw thee on the heath and in the Hall that +day, it pleased me to think that a man so fair and chieftain-like +should one day lie by my side; and again when I saw that the love +of me had taken hold of thee, I would not have thee grieved +because of me, but would have thee happy. And now what +shall I say?—I know not; I cannot tell. Yet am I the +Friend, as erst I called myself.</p> +<p>‘And, Gold-mane, I have seen hitherto but the outward +show and image of thee, and though that be goodly, how would it +be if thou didst shame me with little-heartedness and evil +deeds? Let me see thee in the Folk-mote and the battle, and +then may I answer thee.’</p> +<p><a name="page126"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 126</span>Then +she held her peace, and he answered nothing; and she turned her +face from him and said:</p> +<p>‘Out on it! have I beguiled myself as well as +thee? These are but empty words I have been saying. +If thou wilt drag the truth out of me, this is the very truth: +that to-day is happy to me as it is to thee, and that I have +longed sore for its coming. O Gold-mane, O speech-friend, +if thou wert to pray me or command me that I lie in thine arms +to-night, I should know not how to gainsay thee. Yet I +beseech thee to forbear, lest thy death and mine come of +it. And why should we die, O friend, when we are so young, +and the world lies so fair before us, and the happy days are at +hand when the Children of the Wolf and the kindreds of the Dale +shall deliver the Folk, and all days shall be good and all +years?’</p> +<p>They had both risen up as she spake, and now he put forth his +hands to her and took her in his arms, wondering the while, as he +drew her to him, how much slenderer and smaller and weaker she +seemed in his embrace than he had thought of her; and when their +lips met, he felt that she kissed him as he her. Then he +held her by the shoulders at arms’ length from him, and +beheld her face how her eyes were closed and her lips +quivering. But before him, in a moment of time, passed a +picture of the life to be in the fair Dale, and all she would +give him there, and the days good and lovely from morn to eve and +eve to morn; and though in that moment it was hard for him to +speak, at last he spoke in a voice hoarse at first, and said:</p> +<p>‘Thou sayest sooth, O friend; we will not die, but live; +I will not drag our deaths upon us both, nor put a sword in the +hands of Folk-might, who loves me not.’</p> +<p>Then he kissed her on the brow and said: ‘Now shalt thou +take me by the hand and lead me forth from the Hall. For +the day is waxing old, and here meseemeth in this dim hall there +are words crossing in the air about us—words spoken in days +long ago, and tales of old time, that keep egging me on to do my +will <a name="page127"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 127</span>and +die, because that is all that the world hath for a valiant man; +and to such words I would not hearken, for in this hour I have no +will to die, nor can I think of death.’</p> +<p>She took his hand and led him forth without more words, and +they went hand in hand and paced slowly round the Doom-ring, the +light air breathing upon them till their faces were as calm and +quiet as their wont was, and hers especially as bright and happy +as when he had first seen her that day.</p> +<p>The sun was sinking now, and only sent one golden ray into the +valley through a cleft in the western rock-wall, but the sky +overhead was bright and clear; from the meadows came the sound of +the lowing of kine and the voices of children a-sporting, and it +seemed to Gold-mane that they were drawing nigher, both the +children and the kine, and somewhat he begrudged it that he +should not be alone with the Friend.</p> +<p>Now when they had made half the circuit of the Doom-ring, the +Sun-beam stopped him, and then led him through the Ring of +Stones, and brought him up to the altar which was amidst of it; +and the altar was a great black stone hewn smooth and clean, and +with the image of the Wolf carven on the front thereof; and on +its face lay the gold ring which the priest or captain of the +Folk bore on his arm between the God and the people at all +folk-motes.</p> +<p>So she said: ‘This is the altar of the God of Earth, and +often hath it been reddened by mighty men; and thereon lieth the +Ring of the Sons of the Wolf; and now it were well that we swore +troth on that ring before my brother cometh; for now will he soon +be here.’</p> +<p>Then Gold-mane took the Ring and thrust his right hand through +it, and took her right hand in his; so that the Ring lay on both +their hands, and therewith he spake aloud:</p> +<p>‘I am Face-of-god of the House of the Face, and I do +thee to wit, O God of the Earth, that I pledge my troth to this +woman, the Sun-beam of the Kindred of the Wolf, to beget my +offspring <a name="page128"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +128</span>on her, and to live with her, and to die with her: so +help me, thou God of the Earth, and the Warrior and the God of +the Face!’</p> +<p>Then spake the Sun-beam: ‘I, the Sun-beam of the +Children of the Wolf, pledge my troth to Face-of-god to lie in +his bed and to bear his children and none other’s, and to +be his speech-friend till I die: so help me the Wolf and the +Warrior and the God of the Earth!’</p> +<p>Then they laid the Ring on the altar again, and they kissed +each other long and sweetly, and then turned away from the altar +and departed from the Doom-ring, going hand in hand together down +the meadow, and as they went, the noise of the kine and the +children grew nearer and nearer, and presently came the whole +company of them round a ness of the rock-wall; there were some +thirty little lads and lasses driving on the milch-kine, with +half a score of older maids and grown women, one of whom was +Bow-may, who was lightly and scantily clad, as one who heeds not +the weather, or deems all months midsummer.</p> +<p>The children came running up merrily when they saw the +Sun-beam, but stopped short shyly when they noted the tall fair +stranger with her. They were all strong and sturdy +children, and some very fair, but brown with the weather, if not +with the sun. Bow-may came up to Gold-mane and took his +hand and greeted him kindly and said:</p> +<p>‘So here thou art at last in Shadowy Vale; and I hope +that thou art content therewith, and as happy as I would wish +thee to be. Well, this is the first time; and when thou +comest the second time it may well be that the world shall be +growing better.’</p> +<p>She held the distaff which she bore in her hand (for she had +been spinning) as if it were a spear; her limbs were goodly and +shapely, and she trod the thick grass of the Vale with a kind of +wary firmness, as though foemen might be lurking nearby. +The Sun-beam smiled upon her kindly and said:</p> +<p>‘That shall not fail to be, Bow-may: ye have won a new +friend <a name="page129"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +129</span>to-day. But tell me, when dost thou look to see +the men here, for I was down by the water when they went away +yesterday?’</p> +<p>‘They shall come into the Dale a little after +sunset,’ said Bow-may.</p> +<p>‘Shall I abide them, my friend?’ said Gold-mane, +turning to the Sun-beam.</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said; ‘for what else art thou +come hither? or art thou so pressed to depart from us? Last +time we met thou wert not so hasty to sunder.’</p> +<p>They smiled on each other; and Bow-may looked on them and +laughed outright; then a flush showed in her cheeks through the +tan of them, and she turned toward the children and the other +women who were busied about the milking of the kine.</p> +<p>But those two sat down together on a bank amidst the plain +meadow, facing the river and the eastern rock-wall, and the +Sun-beam said:</p> +<p>‘I am fain to speak to thee and to see thine eyes +watching me while I speak; and now, my friend, I will tell thee +something unasked which has to do with what e’en now thou +didst ask me; for I would have thee trust me wholly, and know me +for what I am. Time was I schemed and planned for this day +of betrothal; but now I tell thee it has become no longer needful +for bringing to pass our fellowship in arms with thy +people. Yea yesterday, ere he went on a hunt, whereof he +shall tell thee, Folk-might was against it, in words at least; +and yet as one who would have it done if he might have no part in +it. So, in good sooth, this hand that lieth in thine is the +hand of a wilful woman, who desireth a man, and would keep him +for her speech-friend. Now art thou fond and happy; yet +bear in mind that there are deeds to be done, and the troth we +have just plighted must be paid for. So hearken, I bid +thee. Dost thou care to know why the wheedling of thee is +no longer needful to us?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘A little while ago I should have said, Yea, If +thy lips say the words. But now, O friend, it seemeth as if +thine <a name="page130"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +130</span>heart were already become a part of mine, and I feel as +if the chieftain were growing up in me and the longing for deeds: +so I say, Tell me, for I were fain to hear what toucheth the +welfare of thy Folk and their fellowship with my Folk; for on +that also have I set my heart?’</p> +<p>She said gravely and with solemn eyes:</p> +<p>‘What thou sayest is good: full glad am I that I have +not plighted my troth to a mere goodly lad, but rather to a +chieftain and a warrior. Now then hearken! Since I +saw thee first in the autumn this hath happened, that the Dusky +Men, increasing both in numbers and insolence, have it in their +hearts to win more than Silver-dale, and it is years since they +have fallen upon Rose-dale and conquered it, rather by murder +than by battle, and made all men thralls there, for feeble were +the Folk thereof; and doubt it not but that they will look into +Burgdale before long. They are already abroad in the woods, +and were it not for the fear of the Wolf they would be thicker +therein, and faring wider; for we have slain many of them, coming +upon them unawares; and they know not where we dwell, nor who we +be: so they fear to spread about over-much and pry into unknown +places lest the Wolf howl on them. Yet beware! for they +will gather in numbers that we may not meet, and then will they +swarm into the Dale; and if ye would live your happy life that ye +love so well, ye must now fight for it; and in that battle must +ye needs join yourselves to us, that we may help each +other. Herein have ye nought to choose, for now with you it +is no longer a thing to talk of whether ye will help certain +strangers and guests and thereby win some gain to yourselves, but +whether ye have the hearts to fight for yourselves, and the wits +to be the fellows of tall men and stout warriors who have pledged +their lives to win or die for it.’</p> +<p>She was silent a little and then turned and looked fondly on +Face-of-god and said:</p> +<p>‘Therefore, Gold-mane, we need thee no longer; for thou +must needs fight in our battle. I have no longer aught to +do to wheedle <a name="page131"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +131</span>thee to love me. Yet if thou wilt love me, then +am I a glad woman.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Thou wottest well that thou hast all my love, +neither will I fail thee in the battle. I am not +little-hearted, though I would have given myself to thee for no +reward.’</p> +<p>‘It is well,’ said the Sun-beam; ‘nought is +undone by that which I have done. Moreover, it is good that +we have plighted troth to-day. For Folk-might will +presently hear thereof, and he must needs abide the thing which +is done. Hearken! he cometh.’</p> +<p>For as she spoke there came a glad cry from the women and +children, and those two stood up and turned toward the west and +beheld the warriors of the Wolf coming down into the Dale by the +way that Gold-mane had come.</p> +<p>‘Come,’ said the Sun-beam, ‘here are your +brethren in arms, let us go greet them; they will rejoice in +thee.’</p> +<p>So they went thither, and there stood eighty and seven men on +the grass below the scree and Folk-might their captain; and +besides some valiant women, and a few carles who were on watch on +the waste, and a half score who had been left in the Dale, these +were all the warriors of the Wolf. They were clad in no +holiday raiment, not even Folk-might, but were in sheep-brown +gear of the coarsest, like to husbandmen late come from the +plough, but armed well and goodly.</p> +<p>But when the twain drew near, the men clashed their spears on +their shields, and cried out for joy of them, for they all knew +what Face-of-god’s presence there betokened of fellowship +with the kindreds; but Folk-might came forward and took +Face-of-god’s hand and greeted him and said:</p> +<p>‘Hail, son of the Alderman! Here hast thou come +into the ancient abode of chieftains and warriors, and belike +deeds await thee also.’</p> +<p>Yet his brow was knitted as he said these words, and he spake +slowly, as one that constraineth himself; but presently his face +cleared somewhat and he said:</p> +<p><a name="page132"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +132</span>‘Dalesman, it behoveth thy people to bestir them +if ye would live and see good days. Hath my sister told +thee what is toward? Or what sayest thou?’</p> +<p>‘Hail to thee, son of the Wolf!’ said +Face-of-god. ‘Thy sister hath told me all; and even +if these Dusky Felons were not our foe-men also, yet could I have +my way, we should have given thee all help, and should have +brought back peace and good days to thy folk.’</p> +<p>Then Folk-might flushed red and spake, as he cast out his hand +towards the warriors and up and down toward the Dale:</p> +<p>‘These be my folk, and these only: and as to peace, only +those of us know of it who are old men. Yet is it well; and +if we and ye together be strong enough to bring back good days to +the feeble men whom the Dusky Ones torment in Silver-dale it +shall be better yet.’</p> +<p>Then he turned about to his sister, and looked keenly into her +eyes till she reddened, and took her hand and looked at the wrist +and said:</p> +<p>‘O sister, see I not the mark on thy wrist of the Ring +of the God of the Earth? Have not oaths been sworn since +yesterday?’</p> +<p>‘True it is,’ she said, ‘that this man and I +have plighted troth together at the altar of the +Doom-ring.’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘Thou wilt have thy will, and I may not +amend it.’ Therewith he turned about to Face-of-god +and said:</p> +<p>‘Thou must look to it to keep this oath, whatever other +one thou hast failed in.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god somewhat wrathfully: ‘I shall keep it, +whether thou biddest me to keep it or break it.’</p> +<p>‘That is well,’ said Folk-might, ‘and then +for all that hath gone before thou mayest in a manner pay, if +thou art dauntless before the foe.’</p> +<p>‘I look to be no blencher in the battle,’ said +Face-of-god; ‘that is not the fashion of our kindred, +whosoever may be before us. Yea, and even were it thy +blade, O mighty warrior of the Wolf, I would do my best to meet +it in manly fashion.’</p> +<p><a name="page133"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 133</span>As he +spake he half drew forth Dale-warden from his sheath, looking +steadily into the eyes of Folk-might; and the Sun-beam looked +upon him happily. But Folk-might laughed and said:</p> +<p>‘Thy sword is good, and I deem that thine heart will not +fail thee; but it is by my side and not in face of me that thou +shalt redden the good blade: I see not the day when we twain +shall hew at each other.’</p> +<p>Then in a while he spake again:</p> +<p>‘Thou must pardon us if our words are rough; for we have +stood in rough places, where we had to speak both short and loud, +whereas there was much to do. But now will we twain talk of +matters that concern chieftains who are going on a hard +adventure. And ye women, do ye dight the Hall for the +evening feast, which shall be the feast of the troth-plight for +you twain. This indeed we owe thee, O guest; for little +shall be thine heritage which thou shalt have with my sister, +over and above that thy sword winneth for thee.’</p> +<p>But the Sun-beam said: ‘Hast thou any +to-night?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ he said; ‘Spear-god, how many was +it?’</p> +<p>There came forward a tall man bearing an axe in his right +hand, and carrying over his shoulder by his left hand a bundle of +silver arm-rings just such as Gold-mane had seen on the felons +who were slain by Wood-grey’s house. The carle cast +them on the ground and then knelt down and fell to telling them +over; and then looked up and said: ‘Twelve yesterday in the +wood where the battle was going on; and this morning seven by the +tarn in the pine-wood and six near this eastern edge of the wood: +one score and five all told. But, Folk-might, they are +coming nigh to Shadowy Vale.’</p> +<p>‘Sooth is that,’ said Folk-might; ‘but it +shall be looked to. Come now apart with me, +Face-of-god.’</p> +<p>So the others went their ways toward the Hall, while +Folk-might led the Burgdaler to a sheltered nook under the sheer +rocks, and there they sat down to talk, and Folk-might asked <a +name="page134"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 134</span>Gold-mane +closely of the muster of the Dalesmen and the Shepherds and the +Woodland Caries, and he was well pleased when Face-of-god told +him of how many could march to a stricken field, and of their +archery, and of their weapons and their goodness.</p> +<p>All this took some time in the telling, and now night was +coming on apace, and Folk-might said:</p> +<p>‘Now will it be time to go to the Hall; but keep in thy +mind that these Dusky Men will overrun you unless ye deal with +them betimes. These are of the kind that ye must cast fear +into their hearts by falling on them; for if ye abide till they +fall upon you, they are like the winter wolves that swarm on and +on, how many soever ye slay. And this above all things +shall help you, that we shall bring you whereas ye shall fall on +them unawares and destroy them as boys do with a wasp’s +nest. Yet shall many a mother’s son bite the +dust.</p> +<p>‘Is it not so that in four weeks’ time is your +spring-feast and market at Burgstead, and thereafter the great +Folk-mote?’</p> +<p>‘So it is,’ said Gold-mane.</p> +<p>‘Thither shall I come then,’ said Folk-might, +‘and give myself out for the slayer of Rusty and the +ransacker of Harts-bane and Penny-thumb; and therefor shall I +offer good blood-wite and theft-wite; and thy father shall take +that; for he is a just man. Then shall I tell my +tale. Yet it may be thou shalt see us before if battle +betide. And now fair befall this new year; for soon shall +the scabbards be empty and the white swords be dancing in the +air, and spears and axes shall be the growth of this +spring-tide.’</p> +<p>And he leaped up from his seat and walked to and fro before +Gold-mane, and now was it grown quite dark. Then Folk-might +turned to Face-of-god and said:</p> +<p>‘Come, guest, the windows of the Hall are yellow; let us +to the feast. To-morrow shalt thou get thee to the +beginning of this work. I hope of thee that thou art a good +sword; else have I <a name="page135"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +135</span>done a folly and my sister a worse one. But now +forget that, and feast.’</p> +<p>Gold-mane arose, not very well at ease, for the man seemed +overbearing; yet how might he fall upon the Sun-beam’s +kindred, and the captain of these new brethren in arms? So +he spake not. But Folk-might said to him:</p> +<p>‘Yet I would not have thee forget that I was wroth with +thee when I saw thee to-day; and had it not been for the coming +battle I had drawn sword upon thee.’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god’s wrath was stirred, and he said:</p> +<p>‘There is yet time for that! but why art thou wroth with +me? And I shall tell thee that there is little manliness in +thy chiding. For how may I fight with thee, thou the +brother of my plighted speech-friend and my captain in this +battle?’</p> +<p>‘Therein thou sayest sooth,’ said Folk-might; +‘but hard it was to see you two standing together; and thou +canst not give the Bride to me as I give my sister to thee. +For I have seen her, and I have seen her looking at thee; and I +know that she will not have it so.’</p> +<p>Then they went on together toward the Hall, and Face-of-god +was silent and somewhat troubled; and as they drew near to the +Hall, Folk-might spake again:</p> +<p>‘Yet time may amend it; and if not, there is the battle, +and maybe the end. Now be we merry!’</p> +<p>So they went into the Hall together, and there was the +Sun-beam gloriously arrayed, as erst in the woodland bower, and +Face-of-god sat on the daïs beside her, and the uttermost +sweetness of desire entered into his soul as he noted her eyes +and her mouth, that were grown so kind to him, and her hand that +strayed toward his.</p> +<p>The Hall was full of folk, and all those warriors were there +with Wood-father and his sons, and Wood-mother, and Bow-may and +many other women; and Gold-mane looked down the Hall and deemed +that he had never seen such stalwarth bodies of men, or <a +name="page136"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 136</span>so bold and +meet for battle: as for the women he had seen fairer in Burgdale, +but these were fair of their own fashion, shapely and well-knit, +and strong-armed and large-limbed, yet sweet-voiced and gentle +withal. Nay, the very lads of fifteen winters or so, +whereof a few were there, seemed bold and bright-eyed and keen of +wit, and it seemed like that if the warriors fared afield these +would be with them.</p> +<p>So wore the feast; and Folk-might as aforetime amongst the +healths called on men to drink to the Jaws of the Wolf, and the +Red Hand, and the Silver Arm, and the Golden Bushel, and the +Ragged Sword. But now had Face-of-god no need to ask what +these meant, since he knew that they were the names of the +kindreds of the Wolf. They drank also to the troth-plight +and to those twain, and shouted aloud over the health and clashed +their weapons: and Gold-mane wondered what echo of that shout +would reach to Burgstead.</p> +<p>Then sang men songs of old time, and amongst them Wood-wont +stood with his fiddle amidst the Hall and Bow-may beside him, and +they sang in turn to it sweetly and clearly; and this is some of +what they sang:</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>She singeth</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Wild is the waste and long leagues over;<br /> + Whither then wend ye spear and sword,<br /> +Where nought shall see your helms but the plover,<br /> + Far and far from the dear Dale’s sward?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>He singeth</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Many a league shall we wend together<br /> + With helm and spear and bended bow.<br /> +Hark! how the wind blows up for weather:<br /> + Dark shall the night be whither we go.</p> +<p class="poetry">Dark shall the night be round the byre,<br /> + And dark as we drive the brindled kine;<br /> +<a name="page137"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 137</span>Dark and +dark round the beacon-fire,<br /> + Dark down in the pass round our wavering line.</p> +<p class="poetry">Turn on thy path, O fair-foot maiden,<br /> + And come our ways by the pathless road;<br /> +Look how the clouds hang low and laden<br /> + Over the walls of the old abode!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>She singeth</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Bare are my feet for the rough waste’s +wending,<br /> + Wild is the wind, and my kirtle’s thin;<br /> +Faint shall I be ere the long way’s ending<br /> + Drops down to the Dale and the grief therein.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>He singeth</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Do on the brogues of the wild-wood rover,<br /> + Do on the byrnies’ ring-close mail;<br /> +Take thou the staff that the barbs hang over,<br /> + O’er the wind and the waste and the way to +prevail.</p> +<p class="poetry">Come, for how from thee shall I sunder?<br /> + Come, that a tale may arise in the land;<br /> +Come, that the night may be held for a wonder,<br /> + When the Wolf was led by a maiden’s hand!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>She singeth</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Now will I fare as ye are faring,<br /> + And wend no way but the way ye wend;<br /> +And bear but the burdens ye are bearing,<br /> + And end the day as ye shall end.</p> +<p class="poetry">And many an eve when the clouds are drifting<br +/> + Down through the Dale till they dim the roof,<br /> +Shall they tell in the Hall of the Maiden’s Lifting,<br /> + And how we drave the spoil aloof.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page138"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 138</span><i>They sing together</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Over the moss through the wind and the +weather,<br /> + Through the morn and the eve and the death of the +day,<br /> +Wend we man and maid together,<br /> + For out of the waste is born the fray.</p> +<p>Then the Sun-beam spake to Gold-mane softly, and told him how +this song was made by a minstrel concerning a foray in the early +days of their first abode in Shadowy Vale, and how in good sooth +a maiden led the fray and was the captain of the warriors:</p> +<p>‘Erst,’ she said, ‘this was counted as a +wonder; but now we are so few that it is no wonder though the +women will do whatsoever they may.’</p> +<p>So they talked, and Gold-mane was very happy; but ere the +good-night cup was drunk, Folk-might spake to Face-of-god and +said:</p> +<p>‘It were well that ye rose betimes in the morning: but +thou shalt not go back by the way thou camest. Wood-wise +and another shall go with thee, and show thee a way across the +necks and the heaths, which is rough enough as far as toil goes, +but where thy life shall be safer; and thereby shalt thou hit the +ghyll of the Weltering Water, and so come down safely into +Burgdale. Now that we are friends and fellows, it is no +hurt for thee to know the shortest way to Shadowy Vale. +What thou shalt tell concerning us in Burgdale I leave the tale +thereof to thee; yet belike thou wilt not tell everything till I +come to Burgstead at the spring market-tide. Now must I +presently to bed; for before daylight to-morrow must I be +following the hunt along with two score good men of +ours.’</p> +<p>‘What beast is afield then?’ said Gold-mane.</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘The beasts that beset our lives, the +Dusky Men. In these days we have learned how to find +companies of them; and forsooth every week they draw nigher to +this Dale; and some day they should happen upon us if we were not +to look <a name="page139"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +139</span>to it, and then would there be a murder great and grim; +therefore we scour the heaths round about, and the skirts of the +woodland, and we fall upon these felons in divers guises, so that +they may not know us for the same men; whiles are we clad in +homespun, as to-day, and seem like to field-working carles; +whiles in scarlet and gold, like knights of the Westland; whiles +in wolf-skins; whiles in white glittering gear, like the Wights +of the Waste: and in all guises these felons, for all their +fierce hearts, fear us, and flee from us, and we follow and slay +them, and so minish their numbers somewhat against the great day +of battle.’</p> +<p>‘Tell me,’ said Gold-mane; ‘when we fall +upon Silver-dale shall their thralls, the old Dale-dwellers, +fight for them or for us?’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘The Dusky Men will not dare to put +weapons into the hands of their thralls. Nay, the thralls +shall help us; for though they have but small stomach for the +fight, yet joyfully when the fight is over shall they cut their +masters’ throats.’</p> +<p>‘How is it with these thralls?’ said +Gold-mane. ‘I have never seen a thrall.’</p> +<p>‘But I,’ said Folk-might, ‘have seen a many +down in the Cities. And there were thralls who were the +tyrants of thralls, and held the whip over them; and of the +others there were some who were not very hardly entreated. +But with these it is otherwise, and they all bear grievous pains +daily; for the Dusky Men are as hogs in a garden of lilies. +Whatsoever is fair there have they defiled and deflowered, and +they wallow in our fair halls as swine strayed from the +dunghill. No delight in life, no sweet days do they have +for themselves, and they begrudge the delight of others +therein. Therefore their thralls know no rest or solace; +their reward of toil is many stripes, and the healing of their +stripes grievous toil. To many have they appointed to dig +and mine in the silver-yielding cliffs, and of all the tasks is +that the sorest, and there do stripes abound the most. Such +thralls art thou happy not to behold till thou hast set them +free; as we shall do.’</p> +<p>‘Tell me again,’ said Face-of-god; ‘Is there +no mixed folk <a name="page140"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +140</span>between these Dusky Men and the Dalesmen, since they +have no women of their own, but lie with the women of the +Dale? Moreover, do not the poor folk of the Dale beget and +bear children, so that there are thralls born of +thralls?’</p> +<p>‘Wisely thou askest this,’ said Folk-might, +‘but thereof shall I tell thee, that when a Dusky Carle +mingles with a woman of the Dale, the child which she beareth +shall oftenest favour his race and not hers; or else shall it be +witless, a fool natural. But as for the children of these +poor thralls; yea, the masters cause them to breed if so their +masterships will, and when the children are born, they keep them +or slay them as they will, as they would with whelps or +calves. To be short, year by year these vile wretches grow +fiercer and more beastly, and their thralls more hapless and +down-trodden; and now at last is come the time either to do or to +die, as ye men of Burgdale shall speedily find out. But now +must I go sleep if I am to be where I look to be at sunrise +to-morrow.’</p> +<p>Therewith he called for the sleeping-cup, and it was drunk, +and all men fared to bed. But the Sun-beam took +Gold-mane’s hand ere they parted, and said:</p> +<p>‘I shall arise betimes on the morrow; so I say not +farewell to-night; yea, and after to-morrow it shall not be long +ere we meet again.’</p> +<p>So Gold-mane lay down in that ancient hall, and it seemed to +him ere he slept as if his own kindred were slipping away from +him and he were becoming a child of the Wolf. ‘And +yet,’ said he to himself, ‘I am become a man; for my +Friend, now she no longer telleth me to do or forbear, and I +tremble. Nay, rather she is fain to take the word from me; +and this great warrior and ripe man, he talketh with me as if I +were a chieftain meet for converse with chieftains. Even so +it is and shall be.’</p> +<p>And soon thereafter he fell asleep in the Hall in Shadowy +Vale.</p> +<h2><a name="page141"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +141</span>CHAPTER XXI. FACE-OF-GOD LOOKETH ON THE DUSKY +MEN.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> he awoke again he saw a man +standing over him, and knew him for Wood-wise: he was clad in his +war-gear, and had his quiver at his back and his bow in his hand, +for Wood-father’s children were all good bowmen, though not +so sure as Bow-may. He spake to Face-of-god:</p> +<p>‘Dawn is in the sky, Dalesman; there is yet time for +thee to wash the night off of thee in our bath of the Shivering +Flood and to put thy mouth to the milk-bowl; but time for nought +else: for I and Bow-may are appointed thy fellows for the road, +and it were well that we were back home speedily.’</p> +<p>So Face-of-god leapt up and went forth from the Hall, and +Wood-wise led to where was a pool in the river with steps cut +down to it in the rocky bank.</p> +<p>‘This,’ said Wood-wise, ‘is the +Carle’s Bath; but the Queen’s is lower down, where +the water is wider and shallower below the little mid-dale +force.’</p> +<p>So Gold-mane stripped off his raiment and leapt into the +ice-cold pool; and they had brought his weapons and war-gear with +them; so when he came out he clad and armed himself for the road, +and then turned with Wood-wise toward the outgate of the Dale; +and soon they saw two men coming from lower down the water in +such wise that they would presently cross their path, and as yet +it was little more than twilight, so that they saw not at first +who they were, but as they drew nearer they knew them for the +Sun-beam and Bow-may. The Sun-beam was clad but in her +white linen smock and blue gown as he had first seen her, her +hair was wet and dripping with the river, her face fresh and +rosy: she carried in her two hands a great bowl of milk, and +stepped delicately, lest she should spill it. But Bow-may +was clad in her war-gear with helm and byrny, and a quiver at her +back, and a bended bow in her hand. So they greeted <a +name="page142"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 142</span>each other +kindly, and the Sun-beam gave the bowl to Face-of-god and +said:</p> +<p>‘Drink, guest, for thou hast a long and thirsty road +before thee.’</p> +<p>So Face-of-god drank, and gave her the bowl back again, and +she smiled on him and drank, and the others after her till the +bowl was empty: then Bow-may put her hand on Wood-wise’s +shoulder, and they led on toward the outgate, while those twain +followed them hand in hand. But the Sun-beam said:</p> +<p>‘This then is the new day I spoke of, and lo! it +bringeth our sundering with it; yet shall it be no longer than a +day when all is said, and new days shall follow after. And +now, my friend, I shall see thee no later than the April market; +for doubt not that I shall go thither with Folk-might, whether he +will or not. Also as I led thee out of the house when we +last met, so shall I lead thee out of the Dale to-day, and I will +go with thee a little way on the waste; and therefore am I shod +this morning, as thou seest, for the ways on the waste are +rough. And now I bid thee have courage while my hand +holdeth thine. For afterwards I need not bid thee anything; +for thou wilt have enough to do when thou comest to thy Folk, and +must needs think more of warriors then than of +maidens.’</p> +<p>He looked at her and longed for her, but said soberly: +‘Thou art kind, O friend, and thinkest kindly of me +ever. But methinks it were not well done for thee to wend +with me over a deal of the waste, and come back by thyself alone, +when ye have so many foemen nearby.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘they be nought so near as +that yet, and I wot that Folk-might hath gone forth toward the +north-west, where he looketh to fall in with a company of the +foemen. His battle shall be a guard unto us.’</p> +<p>‘I pray thee turn back at the top of the outgate,’ +said he, ‘and be not venturesome. Thou wottest that +the pitcher is not broken the first time it goeth to the well, +nor maybe the twentieth, but at last it cometh not +back.’</p> +<p><a name="page143"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 143</span>She +said: ‘Nevertheless I shall have my will herein. And +it is but a little way I will wend with thee.’</p> +<p>Therewith were they come to the scree, and talk fell down +between them as they clomb it; but when they were in the darksome +passage of the rocks, and could scarce see one another, +Face-of-god said:</p> +<p>‘Where then is another outgate from the Dale? Is +it not up the water?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and there is none other: +at the lower end the rocks rise sheer from out the water, and a +little further down is a great force thundering betwixt them; so +that by no boat or raft may ye come out of the Dale. But +the outgate up the water is called the Road of War, as this is +named the Path of Peace. But now are all ways ways of +war.’</p> +<p>‘There is peace in my heart,’ said Gold-mane.</p> +<p>She answered not for a while, but pressed his hand, and he +felt her breath on his cheek; and even therewithal they came out +of the dark, and Gold-mane saw that her cheek was flushed; and +now she spake:</p> +<p>‘One thing would I say to thee, my friend. Thou +hast seen me amongst men of war, amongst outlaws who seek +violence; thou hast heard me bid my brother to count the slain, +and I shrinking not; thou knowest (for I have told thee) how I +have schemed and schemed for victorious battle. Yet I would +not have thee think of me as a Chooser of the Slain, a warrior +maiden, or as of one who hath no joy save in the battle whereto +she biddeth others. O friend, the many peaceful hours that +I have had on the grass down yonder, sitting with my rock and +spindle in hand, the children round about my knees hearkening to +some old story so well remembered by me! or the milking of the +kine in the dewy summer even, when all was still but for the +voice of the water and the cries of the happy children, and there +round about me were the dear and beauteous maidens with whom I +had grown up, happy amidst all our troubles, since their life was +free and <a name="page144"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +144</span>they knew no guile. In such times my heart was at +peace indeed, and it seemed to me as if we had won all we needed; +as if war and turmoil were over, after they had brought about +peace and good days for our little folk.</p> +<p>‘And as for the days that be, are they not as that +rugged pass, full of bitter winds and the voice of hurrying +waters, that leadeth yonder to Silver-dale, as thou hast divined? +and there is nought good in it save that the breath of life is +therein, and that it leadeth to pleasant places and the peace and +plenty of the fair dale.’</p> +<p>‘Sweet friend,’ he said, ‘what thou sayest +is better than well: for time shall be, if we come alive out of +this pass of battle and bitter strife, when I shall lead thee +into Burgdale to dwell there. And thou wottest of our +people that there is little strife and grudging amongst them, and +that they are merry, and fair to look on, both men and women; and +no man there lacketh what the earth may give us, and it is a +saying amongst us that there may a man have that which he +desireth save the sun and moon in his hands to play with: and of +this gladness, which is made up of many little matters, what +story may be told? Yet amongst it shall I live and thou +with me; and ill indeed it were if it wearied thee and thou wert +ever longing for some day of victorious strife, and to behold me +coming back from battle high-raised on the shields of men and +crowned with bay; if thine ears must ever be tickled with the +talk of men and their songs concerning my warrior deeds. +For thus it shall not be. When I drive the herds it shall +be at the neighbours’ bidding whereso they will; not necks +of men shall I smite, but the stalks of the tall wheat, and the +boles of the timber-trees which the woodreeve hath marked for +felling; the stilts of the plough rather than the hilts of the +sword shall harden my hands; my shafts shall be for the deer, and +my spears for the wood-boar, till war and sorrow fall upon us, +and I fight for the ceasing of war and trouble. And though +I be called a chief and of the blood of chiefs, yet shall I not +be masterful to the goodman of the Dale, but rather to my hound; +for my chieftainship <a name="page145"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 145</span>shall be that I shall be well +beloved and trusted, and that no man shall grudge against +me. Canst thou learn to love such a life, which to me +seemeth lovely? And thou? of whom I say that thou art as if +thou wert come down from the golden chairs of the Burg of the +Gods.’</p> +<p>They were well-nigh out of the steep path by now, and the +daylight was bright about them; there she stayed her feet a +moment and turned to him and said:</p> +<p>‘All this should I love even now, if the grief of our +Folk were but healed, and hereafter shall I learn yet more of thy +well-beloved face.’</p> +<p>Therewith she laid her face to his and kissed him fondly, and +put his hand to her side and held it there, saying: ‘Soon +shall we be one in body and in soul.’</p> +<p>And he laughed with joy and pride of life, and took her hand +and led her on again, and said:</p> +<p>‘Yet feel the cold rings of my hauberk, my friend; look +at the spears that cumber my hand, and at Dale-warden hanging by +my side. Thou shalt yet see me as the Slain’s Chooser +would see her speech-friend; for there is much to do ere we win +wheat-harvest in Burgdale.’</p> +<p>Therewith they stepped together on to the level ground of the +waste, and saw Bow-may sitting on a stone hard by, and Wood-wise +standing beside her bending his bow. Bow-may smiled on +Gold-mane and rose up, and they all went on together, turning so +that they went nearly alongside the wall of the Vale, but +westering a little; then the Sun-beam said:</p> +<p>‘Many a time have I trodden this heath alongside our +rock-wall; for if ye wend a little further as our faces are +turned, ye come to the crags over the place where the Shivering +Flood goeth out of Shadowy Vale. There when ye have clomb a +little may’st thou stand on the edge of the rock-wall, and +look down and behold the Flood swirling and eddying in the black +gorge of the rocks, and see presently the reek of the force go +up, and hear the <a name="page146"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +146</span>thunder of the waters as they pour over it: and all +this about us now is as the garden of our house—is it not +so, Bow-may?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said she, ‘and there are goodly +cluster-berries to be gotten hereabout in the autumn; many a time +have the Sun-beam and I reddened our lips with them. Yet is +it best to be wary when war is abroad and hot withal.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said the Sun-beam, ‘and all this +place comes into the story of our House: lo! Gold-mane, two +score paces before us a little on our right hand those five grey +stones. They are called the Rocks of the Elders: for there +in the first days of our abiding in Shadowy Vale the Elders were +wont to come together to talk privily upon our +matters.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god looked thither as she spoke, but therewith saw +Bow-may, who went on the left hand of the Sun-beam, as +Face-of-god on her right hand, notch a shaft on her bent bow, and +Wood-wise, who was on his right hand, saw it also and did the +like, and therewithal Face-of-god got his target on to his arm, +and even as he did so Bow-may cried out suddenly:</p> +<p>‘Yea, yea! Cast thyself on to the ground, +Sun-beam! Gold-mane, targe and spear, targe and +spear! For I see steel gleaming yonder out from behind the +Elders’ Rocks.’</p> +<p>Scarce were the words out of her mouth ere three shafts came +flying, and the bow-strings twanged. Gold-mane felt that +one smote his helm and glanced from it. Therewithal he saw +the Sun-beam fall to earth, though he knew not if she had but +cast herself down as Bow-may bade. Bow-may’s string +twanged at once, and a yell came from the foemen: but Wood-wise +loosed not, but set his hand to his mouth and gave a loud wild +cry—Ha! ha! ha! ha! How-ow-ow!—ending in a long +and exceeding great whoop like nought but the wolf’s +howl. Now Gold-mane thinking swiftly, in a moment of time, +as war-meet men do, judged that if the Sun-beam were hurt (and +she had made no cry), it were yet wiser to fall on the foe before +turning to tend her, or else all might be lost; so he rushed +forward spear in hand and target on <a name="page147"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 147</span>arm, and saw, as he opened up the +flank of the Elders’ Rocks, six men, whereof one leaned +aback on the rock with Bow-may’s shaft in his shoulder, and +two others were just in act of loosing at him. In a moment, +as he rushed at them, one shaft went whistling by him, and the +other glanced from off his target; he cast a spear as he bounded +on, and saw it smite one of the shooters full in the naked face, +and saw the blood spout out and change his face and the man roll +over, and then in another moment four men were hewing at him with +their short steel axes. He thrust out his target against +them, and then let the weight of his body come on his other +spear, and drave it through the second shooter’s throat, +and even therewith was smitten on the helm so hard that, though +the Alderman’s work held out, he fell to his knees, holding +his target over his head and striving to draw forth Dale-warden; +in that nick of time a shaft whistled close by his ear, and as he +rose to his feet again he saw his foeman rolling over and over, +clutching at the ling with both hands. Then rang out again +the terrible wolf-whoop from Wood-wise’s mouth, and both he +and Bow-may loosed a shaft, for the two other foes had turned +their backs and were fleeing fast. Again Bow-may hit the +clout, and the Dusky Man fell dead at once, but Wood-wise’s +arrow flew over the felon’s shoulder as he ran. Then +in a trice was Gold-mane bounding after him like the hare just +roused from her form; for it came into his head that these felons +had beheld them coming up out of the Vale, and that if even this +one man escaped, he would bring his company down upon the +Vale-dwellers.</p> +<p>Strong and light-foot as any was Face-of-god, and though he +was cumbered with his hauberk, yet was Iron-face’s +handiwork far lighter than the war-coat of the Dusky Man, and the +race was soon over. The felon turned breathless to meet +Gold-mane, who drave his target against him and cast him to +earth, and as he strove to rise smote off his head at one stroke; +for Dale-warden was a good sword and the Dalesman as fierce of +mood as might be. There he let the felon lie, and, turning, +walked <a name="page148"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +148</span>back swiftly toward the Elders’ Rocks, and found +there Wood-wise and the dead foemen, for the carle had slain the +wounded, and he was now drawing the silver arm-rings off the +slain men; for all these Dusky Felons bore silver +arm-rings. But Bow-may was walking towards the Sun-beam, +and thitherward followed Gold-mane speedily.</p> +<p>He found her sitting on a tussock of grass close by where she +had fallen, her face pale, her eyes eager and gleaming; she +looked up at him as he drew nigher and said:</p> +<p>‘Friend, art thou hurt?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ he said, ‘and thou? Thou art +pale.’</p> +<p>‘I am not hurt,’ she said. Then she smiled +and said again:</p> +<p>‘Did I not tell thee that I am no warrior like Bow-may +here? Such deeds make maidens pale.’</p> +<p>Said Bow-may: ‘If ye will have the truth, Gold-mane, she +is not wont to grow pale when battle is nigh her. Look you, +she hath had the gift of a new delight, and findeth it sweeter +and softer than she had any thought of; and now hath she feared +lest it should be taken from her.’</p> +<p>‘Bow-may saith but the sooth,’ said the Sun-beam +simply, ‘and kind it is of her to say it. I saw thee, +Bow-may, and good was thy shooting, and I love thee for +it.’</p> +<p>Said Bow-may: ‘I never shoot otherwise than well. +But those idle shooters of the Dusky Ones, whereabouts nigh to +thee went their shafts?’</p> +<p>Said the Sun-beam: ‘One just lifted the hair by my left +ear, and that was not so ill-aimed; as for the other, it pierced +my raiment by my right knee, and pinned me to the earth, so that +I tottered and fell, and my gown and smock are grievously +wounded, both of them.’</p> +<p>And she took the folds of the garments in her hands to show +the rents therein; and her colour was come again, and she was +glad.</p> +<p>‘What were best to do now?’ she said.</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Let us tarry a little; for some of +thy <a name="page149"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +149</span>carles shall surely come up from the Vale: because they +will have heard Wood-wise’s whoop, since the wind sets that +way.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, they will come,’ said the Sun-beam.</p> +<p>‘Good is that,’ said Face-of-god; ‘for they +shall take the dead felons and cast them where they be not seen +if perchance any more stray hereby. For if they wind them, +they may well happen on the path down to the Vale. Also, my +friend, it were well if thou wert to bid a good few of the carles +that are in the Vale to keep watch and ward about here, lest +there be more foemen wandering about the waste.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Thou art wise in war, Gold-mane; I will do as +thou biddest me. But soothly this is a perilous thing that +the Dusky Men are gotten so close to the Vale.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘This will Folk-might look to when he +cometh home; and it is most like that he will deem it good to +fall on them somewhere a good way aloof, so as to draw them off +from wandering over the waste. Also I will do my best to +busy them when I am home in Burgdale.’</p> +<p>Therewith came up Wood-wise, and fell to talk with them; and +his mind it was that these foemen were but a band of strayers, +and had had no inkling of Shadowy Vale till they had heard them +talking together as they came up the path from the Vale, and that +then they had made that ambush behind the Elders’ Rocks, so +that they might slay the men, and then bear off the woman. +He said withal that it would be best to carry their corpses +further on, so that they might be cast over the cliffs into the +fierce stream of the Shivering Flood.</p> +<p>Amidst this talk came up men from the Vale, a score of them, +well armed; and they ran to meet the wayfarers; and when they +heard what had befallen, they rejoiced exceedingly, and were +above all glad that Face-of-god had shown himself doughty and +deft; and they deemed his rede wise, to set a watch thereabouts +till Folk-might came home, and said that they would do even +so.</p> +<p>Then spake the Sun-beam and said:</p> +<p><a name="page150"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +150</span>‘Now must ye wayfarers depart; for the road is +but rough, and the day not over-long.’</p> +<p>Then she turned to Face-of-god and put her hand on his +shoulder, and brought her face close to his and spake to him +softly:</p> +<p>‘Doth this second parting seem at all strange to thee, +and that I am now so familiar to thee, I whom thou didst once +deem to be a very goddess? And now thou hast seen me redden +before thine eyes because of thee; and thou hast seen me grow +pale with fear because of thee; and thou hast felt my caresses +which I might not refrain; even as if I were altogether such a +maiden as ye warriors hang about for a nine days’ wonder, +and then all is over save an aching heart—wilt thou do so +with me? Tell me, have I not belittled myself before thee +as if I asked thee to scorn me? For thus desire dealeth +both with maid and man.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘In all this there is but one thing for me to +say, and that is that I love thee; and surely none the less, but +rather the more, because thou lovest me, and art of my kind, and +mayest share in my deeds and think well of them. Now is my +heart full of joy, and one thing only weigheth on it; and that is +that my kinswoman the Bride begrudgeth our love together. +For this is the thing that of all things most misliketh me, that +any should bear a grudge against me.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Forget not the token, and my message to +her.’</p> +<p>‘I will not forget it,’ said he. ‘And +now I bid thee to kiss me even before all these that are looking +on; for there is nought to belittle us therein, since we be +troth-plight.’</p> +<p>And indeed those folk stood all round about them gazing on +them, but a little aloof, that they might not hear their words if +they were minded to talk privily. For they had long loved +the Sun-beam, and now the love of Face-of-god had begun to spring +up in their hearts.</p> +<p>So the twain embraced and kissed one another, and made no +haste thereover; and those men deemed that but meet and right, +and clashed their weapons on their shields in token of their +joy.</p> +<p><a name="page151"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 151</span>Then +Face-of-god turned about and strode out of the ring of men, with +Bow-may and Wood-wise beside him, and they went on their journey +over the necks towards Burgstead. But the Sun-beam turned +slowly from that place toward the Vale, and two of the stoutest +carles went along with her to guard her from harm, and she went +down into the Vale pondering all these things in her heart.</p> +<p>Then the other carles dragged off the corpses of the Dusky Men +till they had brought them to the sheer rocks above the Shivering +Flood, and there they tossed them over into the boiling caldron +of the force, and so departed taking with them the silver +arm-rings of the slain to add to the tale.</p> +<p>But when they came back into the Vale the Sun-beam duly +ordered that watch and ward to keep the ingate thereto, and note +all that should befall till Folk-might came home.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII. FACE-OF-GOD COMETH HOME TO +BURGSTEAD.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">But</span> Face-of-god with Bow-may and +Wood-wise fared over the waste, going at first alongside the +cliffs of the Shivering Flood, and then afterwards turning +somewhat to the west. They soon had to climb a very high +and steep bent going up to a mountain-neck; and the way over the +neck was rough indeed when they were on it, and they toiled out +of it into a barren valley, and out of the valley again on to a +rough neck; and such-like their journey the day long, for they +were going athwart all those great dykes that went from the +ice-mountains toward the lower dales like the outspread fingers +of a hand or the roots of a great tree. And the +ice-mountains they had on their left hands and whiles at their +backs.</p> +<p>They went very warily, with their bows bended and spear in +hand, but saw no man, good or bad, and but few living +things. <a name="page152"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +152</span>At noon they rested in a valley where was a stream, but +no grass, nought but stones and sand; but where they were at +least sheltered from the wind, which was mostly very great in +these high wastes; and there Bow-may drew meat and wine from a +wallet she bore, and they ate and drank, and were merry enough; +and Bow-may said:</p> +<p>‘I would I were going all the way with thee, Gold-mane; +for I long sore to let my eyes rest a while on the land where I +shall one day live.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, ‘art thou minded to +dwell there? We shall be glad of that.’</p> +<p>‘Whither are thy wits straying?’ said she; +‘whether I am minded to it or not, I shall dwell +there.’</p> +<p>And Wood-wise nodded a yea to her. But Face-of-god +said:</p> +<p>‘Good will be thy dwelling; but wherefore must it be +so?’</p> +<p>Then Wood-wise laughed and said: ‘I shall tell thee in +fewer words than she will, and time presses now: Wood-father and +Wood-mother, and I and my two brethren and this woman have ever +been about and anigh the Sun-beam; and we deem that war and other +troubles have made us of closer kin to her than we were born, +whether ye call it brotherhood or what not, and never shall we +sunder from her in life or in death. So when thou goest to +Burgdale with her, there shall we be.’</p> +<p>Then was Face-of-god glad when he found that they deemed his +wedding so settled and sure; but Wood-wise fell to making ready +for the road. And Face-of-god said to him:</p> +<p>‘Tell me one thing, Wood-wise; that whoop that thou +gavest forth when we were at handy-strokes e’en +now—is it but a cry of thine own or is it of thy Folk, and +shall I hear it again?’</p> +<p>‘Thou may’st look to hear it many a time,’ +said Wood-wise, ‘for it is the cry of the Wolf. +Seldom indeed hath battle been joined where men of our blood are, +but that cry is given forth. Come now, to the +road!’</p> +<p>So they went their ways and the road worsened upon them, and +<a name="page153"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 153</span>toilsome +was the climbing up steep bents and the scaling of doubtful paths +in the cliff-sides, so that the journey, though the distance of +it were not so long to the fowl flying, was much eked out for +them, and it was not till near nightfall that they came on the +ghyll of the Weltering Water some six miles above +Burgstead. Forsooth Wood-wise said that the way might be +made less toilsome though far longer by turning back eastward a +little past the vale where they had rested at midday; and that +seemed good to Gold-mane, in case they should be wending +hereafter in a great company between Burgdale and Shadowy +Vale.</p> +<p>But now those two went with Face-of-god down a path in the +side of the cliff whereby him-seemed he had gone before; and they +came down into the ghyll and sat down together on a stone by the +water-side, and Face-of-god spake to them kindly, for he deemed +them good and trusty faring-fellows.</p> +<p>‘Bow-may,’ said he, ‘thou saidst a while ago +that thou wouldst be fain to look on Burgdale; and indeed it is +fair and lovely, and ye may soon be in it if ye will. Ye +shall both be more than welcome to the house of my father, and +heartily I bid you thither. For night is on us, and the way +back is long and toilsome and beset with peril. Sister +Bow-may, thou wottest that it would be a sore grief to me if thou +camest to any harm, and thou also, fellow Wood-wise. +Daylight is a good faring-fellow over the waste.’</p> +<p>Said Bow-may: ‘Thou art kind, Gold-mane, and that is thy +wont, I know; and fain were I to-night of the candles in thine +hall. But we may not tarry; for thou wottest how busy we be +at home; and Sun-beam needeth me, if it were only to make her +sure that no Dusky Man is bearing off thine head by its lovely +locks. Neither shall we journey in the mirk night; for look +you, the moon yonder.’</p> +<p>‘Well,’ said Face-of-god, ‘parting is ill at +the best, and I would I could give you twain a gift, and +especially to thee, my sister Bow-may.’</p> +<p>Said Wood-wise: ‘Thou may’st well do that; or at +least promise the gift; and that is all one as if we held it in +our hands.’</p> +<p><a name="page154"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +154</span>‘Yea,’ said Bow-may, ‘Wood-wise and I +have been thinking in one way belike; and I was at point to ask a +gift of thee.’</p> +<p>‘What is it?’ said Gold-mane. ‘Surely +it is thine, if it were but a guerdon for thy good +shooting.’</p> +<p>She laughed and handled the skirts of his hauberk as she +said:</p> +<p>‘Show us the dint in thine helm that the steel axe made +this morning.’</p> +<p>‘There is no such great dint,’ said he; ‘my +father forged that helm, and his work is better than +good.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Bow-may, ‘and might I have +hauberk and helm of his handiwork, and Wood-wise a good sword of +the same, then were I a glad woman, and this man a happy +carle.’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘I am well pleased at thine asking, and +so shall Iron-face be when he heareth of thine archery; and how +that Hall-face were now his only son but for thy close +shooting. But now must I to the way; for my heart tells me +that there may have been tidings in Burgstead this while I have +been aloof.’</p> +<p>So they rose all three, and Bow-may said:</p> +<p>‘Thou art a kind brother, and soon shall we meet again; +and that will be well.’</p> +<p>Then he put his hands on her shoulders and kissed both her +cheeks; and he kissed Wood-wise, and turned and went his ways, +threading the stony tangle about the Weltering Water, which was +now at middle height, and running clear and strong; so turning +once he beheld Wood-wise and Bow-may climbing the path up the +side of the ghyll, and Bow-may turned to him also and waved her +bow as token of farewell. Then he went upon his way, which +was rough enough to follow by night, though the moon was shining +brightly high aloft. Yet as he knew his road he made but +little of it all, and in somewhat more than an hour and a half +was come out of the pass into the broken ground at the head of +the Dale, and began to make his way speedily under the bright +moonlight toward the Gate, still going close by the water. +But as he went he heard of a sudden cries and rumour not far from +him, <a name="page155"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +155</span>unwonted in that place, where none dwelt, and where the +only folk he might look to see were those who cast an angle into +the pools and eddies of the Water. Moreover, he saw about +the place whence came the cries torches moving swiftly hither and +thither; so that he looked to hear of new tidings, and stayed his +feet and looked keenly about him on every side; and just then, +between his rough path and the shimmer of the dancing moonlit +water, he saw the moon smite on something gleaming; so, as +quietly as he could, he got his target on his arm, and shortened +his spear in his right hand, and then turned sharply toward that +gleam. Even therewith up sprang a man on his right hand, +and then another in front of him just betwixt him and the water; +an axe gleamed bright in the moon, and he caught a great stroke +on his target, and therewith drave his left shoulder straight +forward, so that the man before him fell over into the water with +a mighty splash; for they were at the very edge of the deepest +eddy of the Water. Then he spun round on his heel, heeding +not that another stroke had fallen on his right shoulder, yet +ill-aimed, and not with the full edge, so that it ran down his +byrny and rent it not. So he sent the thrust of his spear +crashing through the face and skull of the smiter, and looked not +to him as he fell, but stood still, brandishing his spear and +crying out, ‘For the Burg and the Face! For the Burg +and the Face!’</p> +<p>No other foe came against him, but like to the echo of his cry +rose a clear shout not far aloof, ‘For the Face, for the +Face! For the Burg and the Face!’ He muttered, +‘So ends the day as it begun,’ and shouted loud +again, ‘For the Burg and the Face!’ And in a +minute more came breaking forth from the stone-heaps into the +moonlit space before the water the tall shapes of the men of +Burgstead, the red torchlight and the moonlight flashing back +from their war-gear and weapons; for every man had his sword or +spear in hand.</p> +<p>Hall-face was the first of them, and he threw his arms about +his brother and said: ‘Well met, Gold-mane, though thou +comest <a name="page156"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +156</span>amongst us like Stone-fist of the Mountain. Art +thou hurt? With whom hast thou dealt? Where be +they? Whence comest thou?’</p> +<p>‘Nay, I am not hurt,’ said Face-of-god. +‘Stint thy questions then, till thou hast told me whom thou +seekest with spear and sword and candle.’</p> +<p>‘Two felons were they,’ said Hall-face, +‘even such as ye saw lying dead at Wood-grey’s the +other day.’</p> +<p>‘Then may ye sheathe your swords and go home,’ +said Gold-mane, ‘for one lieth at the bottom of the eddy, +and the other, thy feet are well-nigh treading on him, +Hall-face.’</p> +<p>Then arose a rumour of praise and victory, and they brought +the torches nigh and looked at the fallen man, and found that he +was stark dead; so they even let him lie there till the morrow, +and all turned about toward the Thorp; and many looked on +Face-of-god and wondered concerning him, whence he was and what +had befallen him. Indeed, they would have asked him +thereof, but could not get at him to ask; but whoso could, went +as nigh to Hall-face and him as they might, to hearken to the +talk between the brothers.</p> +<p>So as they went along Hall-face did verily ask him whence he +came: ‘For was it not so,’ said he, ‘that thou +didst enter into the wood seeking some adventure early in the +morning the day before yesterday?’</p> +<p>‘Sooth is that,’ said Face-of-god, ‘and I +came to Shadowy Vale, and thence am I come this +morning.’</p> +<p>Said Hall-face: ‘I know not Shadowy Vale, nor doth any +of us. This is a new word. How say ye, friends, doth +any man here know of Shadowy Vale?’</p> +<p>They all said, ‘Nay.’</p> +<p>Then said Hall-face: ‘Hast thou been amongst mere ghosts +and marvels, brother, or cometh this tale of thy +minstrelsy?’</p> +<p>‘For all your words,’ said Gold-mane, ‘to +that Vale have I been; and, to speak shortly (for I desire to +have your tale, and am waiting for it), I will tell thee that I +found there no marvels <a name="page157"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 157</span>or strange wights, but a folk of +valiant men; a folk small in numbers, but great of heart; a folk +come, as we be, from the Fathers and the Gods. And this, +moreover, is to be said of them, that they are the foes of these +felons of whom ye were chasing these twain. And these same +Dusky Men of Silver-dale would slay them every man if they might; +and if we look not to it they will soon be doing the same by us; +for they are many, and as venomous as adders, as fierce as bears, +and as foul as swine. But these valiant men, who bear on +their banner the image of the Wolf, should be our fellows in +arms, and they have good will thereto; and they shall show us the +way to Silver-dale by blind paths, so that we may fall upon these +felons while they dwell there tormenting the poor people of the +land, and thus may we destroy them as lads a hornet’s +nest. Or else the days shall be hard for us.’</p> +<p>The men who hung about them drank in his words greedily. +But Hall-face was silent a little while, and then he said: +‘Brother Gold-mane, these be great tidings. Time was +when we might have deemed them but a minstrel’s tale; for +Silver-dale we know not, of which thou speakest so glibly, nor +the Dusky Men, any more than the Shadowy Vale. Howbeit, +things have befallen these two last days so strange and new, that +putting them together with the murder at Wood-grey’s, and +thy words which seem somewhat wild, it may well seem to us that +tidings unlooked for are coming our way.’</p> +<p>‘Come, then,’ said Face-of-god, ‘give me +what thou hast in thy scrip, and trust me, I shall not jeer at +thy tale.’</p> +<p>Said Hall-face: ‘I also will be short with the tale; and +that the more, as meseemeth it is not yet done, and that thou +thyself shalt share in the ending of it. It was the day +before yesterday, that is the day when thou departedst into the +woods on that adventure whereof thou shalt one day tell me more, +wilt thou not?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, in good time,’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘Well,’ quoth Hall-face, ‘we went into the +woods that day and in the morning, but after sunrise, to the +number of a score: <a name="page158"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +158</span>we looked to meet a bear and a she-bear with cubs in a +certain place; for one of the Woodlanders, a keen hunter, had +told us of their lair. Also we were wishful to slay some of +the wild-swine, the yearlings, if we might. Therefore, +though we had no helms or shields or coats of fence, we had +bowshot a plenty, and good store of casting-weapons, besides our +wood-knives and an axe or so; and some of us, of whom I was one, +bore our battle-swords, as we are wont ever to do, be the foe +beast or man.</p> +<p>‘Thus armed we went up Wildlake’s Way and came to +Carlstead, where half-a-score Woodlanders joined themselves to +us, so that we became a band. We went up the half-cleared +places past Carlstead for a mile, and then turned east into the +wood, and went I know not how far, for the Woodlanders led us by +crooked paths, but two hours wore away in our going, till we came +to the place where they looked to find the bears. It is a +place that may well be noted, for it is unlike the wood round +about. There is a close thicket some two furlongs about of +thorn and briar and ill-grown ash and oak and other trees, +planted by the birds belike; and it stands as it were in an +island amidst of a wide-spreading woodlawn of fine turf, set +about in the most goodly fashion with great tall straight-boled +oak-trees, that seem to have been planted of set purpose by +man’s hand. Yea, dost thou know the place?’</p> +<p>‘Methinks I do,’ said Gold-mane, ‘and I seem +to have heard the Woodlanders give it a name and call it +Boars-bait.’</p> +<p>‘That may be,’ said Hall-face. ‘Well, +there we were, the dogs and the men, and we drew nigh the thicket +and beset it, and doubted not to find prey therein: but when we +would set the dogs at the thicket to enter it, they were uneasy, +and would not take up the slot, but growled and turned about this +way and that, so that we deemed that they winded some fierce +beast at our flanks or backs.</p> +<p>‘Even so it was, and fierce enough and deadly was the +beast; for suddenly we heard bow-strings twang, and shafts came +flying; and Iron-shield of the Upper Dale, who was close beside +me, leapt <a name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +159</span>up into the air and fell down dead with an arrow +through his back. Then I bethought me in the twinkling of +an eye, and I cried out, “The foe are on us! take the cover +of the tree-boles and be wary! For the Burg and the +Face! For the Burg and the Face!”</p> +<p>‘So we scattered and covered ourselves with the +oak-boles, but besides Iron-shield, who was slain outright, two +goodmen were sorely hurt, to wit Bald-face, a man of our house, +and Stonyford of the Lower Dale.</p> +<p>‘I looked from behind my tree-bole, a great one; and far +off down the glades I saw men moving, clad in gay raiment; but +nearer to me, not a hundred yards from my cover, I saw an arm +clad in scarlet come out from behind a tree-bole, so I loosed at +it, and missed not; for straight there tottered out from behind +the tree one of those dusky foul-favoured men like to those that +were slain by Wood-grey. I had another shaft ready notched, +so I loosed and set the shaft in his throat, and he fell.</p> +<p>‘Straightway was a yelling and howling about us like the +cries of scalded curs, and the oak-wood swarmed thick with these +felons rushing on us; for it seems that the man whom I had slain +was a chief amongst them, or we judged so by his goodly +raiment.</p> +<p>‘Methought then our last day was come. What could +we do but run together again after we had loosed at a venture, +and so withstand them sword and spear in hand? Some fell +beneath our shot, but not many, for they came on very +swiftly.</p> +<p>‘So they fell on us; but for all their fierceness and +their numbers they might not break our array, and we slew four +and hurt many by sword-hewing and spear-casting and push of +spear; and five of us were hurt and one slain by their +dart-casting. So they drew off from us a little, and strove +to spread out and fall to shooting at us again; but this we would +not suffer, but pushed on as they fell back, keeping as close +together as we might for the trees. For we said that we +would all die together if needs must; and verily the stour was +hard.</p> +<p>‘Yet hearken! In that nick of time rose up a +strange cry not <a name="page160"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +160</span>far from us, Ha! ha! ha! ha! How-ow-ow! ending +like the howl of a wolf, and then another and another and +another, till the whole wood rang again.</p> +<p>‘At first we deemed that here were come fresh foemen, +and that we were undone indeed; but when they heard it, the +foe-men before us faltered and gave way, and at last turned their +backs and fled, and we followed, keeping well together still: +thereby the more part of these men escaped us, for they fled +wildly here and there from those who bore that cry with them; so +we knew that our work was being done for us; therefore we stood, +and saw tall men clad in sheep-brown weed running through the +glades pursuing those felons and smiting them down, till both +fleers and pursuers passed out of our sight like men in a dream, +or as when ye roll up a pictured cloth to lay it in the +coffer.</p> +<p>‘But to Stone-face’s mind those brown-clad men +were the Wights of the Wood that be of the Fathers’ blood, +and our very friends; and when some of us would yet have gone +forward and foregathered with them, and followed the chase along +with them, Stone-face gainsaid it, bidding us not to run into the +arms of a second death, when we had but just escaped from the +first. Sooth to say, moreover, we had divers hurt men that +needed looking to.</p> +<p>‘So what with one thing, what with another, we turned +back: but War-cliff’s brother, a tall man, had felled two +of those felons with an oak sapling which he had torn from the +thicket; but he had not slain them, and by now they were just +awakening from their swoon, and were sitting up looking round +them with fierce rolling eyes, expecting the stroke, for Raven of +Longscree was standing over them with a naked war-sword in his +hand. But now that our blood was cool, we were loth to slay +them as they lay in our hands; so we bound them and brought them +away with us; and our own dead we carried also on such biers as +we might lightly make there, and with them three that were so +grievously hurt that they might not go afoot, these we left at +Carlstead: they were Tardy the Son of the Untamed, and Swan of +Bull-meadow, <a name="page161"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +161</span>both of the Lower Dale, and a Woodlander, Undoomed to +wit. But the dead were Iron-shield aforesaid, and +Wool-sark, and the Hewer, a Woodlander.</p> +<p>‘So came we sadly at eventide to Burgstead with the two +dead Burgdalers, and the captive felons, and the wounded of us +that might go afoot; and ye may judge that they of Burgdale and +our father deemed these tidings great enough, and wotted not what +next should befall. Stone-face would have had those two +felons slain there and then; for no true tale could we get out of +them, nor indeed any word at all. But the Alderman would +not have it so; and he deemed they might serve our turn as +hostages if any of our folk should be taken: for one and all we +deemed, and still deem, that war is on us and that new folk have +gathered on our skirts.</p> +<p>‘So the captives were shut up in the red out-bower of +our house; and our father was minded that thou mightest tell us +somewhat of them when thou wert come home. But about dusk +to-day the word went that they had broken out and gotten them +weapons and fled up the Dale; and so it was.</p> +<p>‘But to-morrow morning will a Gate-thing be holden, and +there it will be looked for of thee that thou tell us a true tale +of thy goings. For it is deemed, and it is my deeming +especially, that thou may’st tell us more of these men than +thou hast yet told us. Is it not so?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, surely,’ said Gold-mane, ‘I can make +as many words as ye will about it; yet when all is said, it will +come to much the same tale as I have already told thee. Yet +belike, if ye are minded to take up the sword to defend you, I +may tell you in what wise to lay hold on the hilts.’</p> +<p>‘And that is well,’ said Hall-face, ‘and no +less do I look for of thee. But lo! here are we come to the +Gate of the Burg that abideth battle.’</p> +<h2><a name="page162"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +162</span>CHAPTER XXIII. TALK IN THE HALL OF THE HOUSE OF +THE FACE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> sooth they were come to the very +Gate of Burgstead, and the great gates were shut, and only a +wicket was open, and a half score of stout men in all their +war-gear were holding ward thereby. They gave place to +Hall-face and his company, albeit some of the warders followed +them through the wicket that they might hear the story told.</p> +<p>The street was full of folk, both men and women, talking +together eagerly concerning all these tidings, and when they saw +the men of the Hue-and-cry they came thronging about them, so +that they might scarce get to the door of the House of the Face +because of the press; so Hall-face (who was a very tall man) +cried out:</p> +<p>‘Good people, all is well! the runaways are slain, and +Face-of-god is come back with us; give place a little, that we +may come into our house.’</p> +<p>Then the throng set up a shout, and made way a little, so that +Hall-face and Gold-mane and the others could get to the +door. And they entered into the Hall, and saw much folk +therein; and men were sitting at table, for supper was not yet +over. But when they saw the new-comers they mostly rose up +from the board and stood silent to hear the tale, for they had +been talking many together each to each, so that the Hall was +full of confused noise.</p> +<p>So Hall-face again cried out: ‘Men in this hall, good is +the tidings. The runaways are slain; and it was Face-of-god +who slew them as he came back safe from the waste.’</p> +<p>Then they shouted for joy, and the brethren and Stone-face +with them (for he had entered with them from the street) went up +on to the daïs, while the others of the Hue-and-cry gat them +seats where they might at the endlong tables.</p> +<p>But when Face-of-god came up on to the daïs, there sat +Iron-face looking down on the thronged Hall with a ruddy cheerful +countenance, <a name="page163"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +163</span>and beside him sat the Bride; for he had caused her to +be brought thither when he had heard of the tidings of +battle. She was daintily clad in a flame-coloured kirtle +embroidered with gold about the bosom and sleeves, and there was +a fillet of golden roses on her ruddy hair. Her eyes shone +bright and eager, and the pommels of her cheeks were flushed and +red contrary to their wont. Needs must Gold-mane sit by +her, and when he came close to her he knew not what to do, but he +put forth his hand to her, yet with a troubled countenance; for +he feared her grief mingled with her beauty: as for her, she +wavered in her mind whether she should forbear to touch him or +not; but she saw that men about were looking at them, and +especially was Iron-face looking on her: therefore she stood up +and took Gold-mane’s hand and kissed his face as she had +been wont to do, and by then was her face as white as paper; and +her anguish pierced his heart, so that he well-nigh groaned for +grief of her. But Iron-face looked on her and said +kindly:</p> +<p>‘Kinswoman, thou art pale; thou hast feared for thy mate +amidst all these tidings of war, and still fearest for him. +But pluck up a heart; for the man is a deft warrior for all his +fair face, which thou lovest as a woman should, and his hands may +yet save his head. And if he be slain, yet are there other +men of the kindred, and the earth will not be a desert to thee +even then.’</p> +<p>She looked at Iron-face, and the colour was come back to her +face somewhat, and she said:</p> +<p>‘It is true; I have feared for him; for he goeth into +perilous places. But for thee, thou art kind, and I thank +thee for it.’</p> +<p>And therewith she kissed Iron-face and sat down in her place, +and strove to overmaster her grief, that her face might not be +changed by it; for now were thoughts of battle, and valiant hopes +arising in men’s hearts; and it seemed to her too grievous +if she should mar that feast on the eve of battle.</p> +<p>But Iron-face kissed and embraced his son and said: ‘Art +thou late come from the waste? Hast thou seen new +things? <a name="page164"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +164</span>We look to have a notable tale from thee; though here +also have been tidings, and it is not unlike that we shall +presently have new work on our hands.’</p> +<p>‘Father,’ quoth Face-of-god, ‘I deem that +when thou hast heard my tale thou wilt think no less of it than +that there are valiant folk to be holpen, poor folk to be +delivered, and evil folk to be swept from off the face of the +earth.’</p> +<p>‘It is well, son,’ said Iron-face. ‘I +see that thy tale is long; let it alone for to-night. +To-morrow shall we hold a Gate-thing, and then shall we hear all +that thou hast to tell. Now eat thy meat and drink a bowl +of wine, and comfort thy troth-plight maiden.’</p> +<p>So Gold-mane sat down by the Bride, and ate and drank as he +needs must; but he was ill at ease and he durst not speak to +her. For, on the one hand, he thought concerning his love +for the Sun-beam, and how sweet and good a thing it was that she +should take him by the hand and lead him into noble deeds and +great fame, caressing him so softly and sweetly the while; and, +on the other hand, there sat the Bride beside him, sorrowful and +angry, begrudging all that sweetness of love, as though it were +something foul and unseemly; and heavy on him lay the weight of +that grudge, for he was a man of a friendly heart.</p> +<p>Stone-face sat outward from him on the other side of the +Bride; and he leaned across her towards Gold-mane and said:</p> +<p>‘Fair shall be thy tale to-morrow, if thou tellest us +all thine adventure. Or wilt thou tell us less than +all?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘In good time shalt thou know it all, +foster-father; but it is not unlike that by the time that thou +hast heard it, there shall be so many other things to tell of, +that my tale shall seem of little account to thee—even as +the saw saith that one nail driveth out the other.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Stone-face, ‘but one tale belike +shall be knit up with the others, as it fareth with the figures +that come one after other on the weaver’s cloth; though one +maketh not the other, yet one cometh of the other.’</p> +<p><a name="page165"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 165</span>Said +Face-of-god: ‘Wise art thou now, foster-father, but thou +shalt be wiser yet in this matter by then a month hath worn: and +to-morrow shalt thou know enough to set thine hands +a-work.’</p> +<p>So the talk fell between them; and the night wore, and the men +of Burgdale feasted in their ancient hall with merry hearts, +little weighed down by thought of the battle that might be and +the trouble to come; for they were valorous and kindly folk.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV. FACE-OF-GOD GIVETH THAT TOKEN TO THE +BRIDE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> on the morrow, when Face-of-god +arose and other men with him, and the Hall was astir and there +was no little throng therein, the Bride came up to him; for she +had slept in the House of the Face by the bidding of the +Alderman; and she spake to him before all men, and bade him come +forth with her into the garden, because she would speak to him +apart. He yeasaid her, though with a heavy heart; and to +the folk about that seemed meet and due, since those twain were +deemed to be troth-plight, and they smiled kindly on them as they +went out of the Hall together.</p> +<p>So they came into the garden, where the pear-trees were +blossoming over the spring lilies, and the cherries were +showering their flowers on the deep green grass, and everything +smelled sweetly on the warm windless spring morning.</p> +<p>She led the way, going before him till they came by a smooth +grass path between the berry bushes, to a square space of grass +about which were barberry trees, their first tender leaves bright +green in the sun against the dry yellowish twigs. There was +a sundial amidmost of the grass, and betwixt the garden-boughs +one could see the long grey roof of the ancient hall; and sweet +familiar sounds of the nesting birds and men and women going on +their errands were all about in the scented air. She turned +<a name="page166"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 166</span>about at +the sundial and faced Face-of-god, her hand lightly laid on the +scored brass, and spake with no anger in her voice:</p> +<p>‘I ask thee if thou hast brought me the token whereon +thou shalt swear to give me that gift.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said he; and therewith drew the ring from +his bosom, and held it out to her. She reached out her hand +to him slowly and took it, and their fingers met as she did so, +and he noted that her hand was warm and firm and wholesome as he +well remembered it.</p> +<p>She said: ‘Whence hadst thou this fair +finger-ring?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘My friend there in the +mountain-valley drew it from off her finger for thee, and bade me +bear thee a message.’</p> +<p>Her face flushed red: ‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and +doth she send me a message? Then doth she know of me, and +ye have talked of me together. Well, give the +message!’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘She saith, that thou shalt bear in +mind, That to-morrow is a new day.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘for her it is so, and for +thee; but not for me. But now I have brought thee here that +thou mightest swear thine oath to me; lay thine hand on this ring +and on this brazen plate whereby the sun measures the hours of +the day for happy folk, and swear by the spring-tide of the year +and all glad things that find a mate, and by the God of the Earth +that rejoiceth in the life of man.’</p> +<p>Then he laid his hand on the finger-ring as it lay on the +dial-plate and said:</p> +<p>‘By the spring-tide and the live things that long to +multiply their kind; by the God of the Earth that rejoiceth in +the life of man, I swear to give to my kinswoman the Bride the +second man-child that I beget; to be hers, to leave or cherish, +to love or hate, as her will may bid her.’ Then he +looked on her soberly and said: ‘It is duly sworn; is it +enough?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said; but he saw how the tears ran out +of her eyes and wetted the bosom of her kirtle, and she hung her +head for <a name="page167"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +167</span>shame of her grief. And Gold-mane was all +abashed, and had no word to say; for he knew that no word of his +might comfort her; and he deemed it ill done to stay there and +behold her sorrow; and he knew not how to get him gone, and be +glad elsewhere, and leave her alone.</p> +<p>Then, as if she had read his thought, she looked up at him and +said smiling a little amidst of her tears:</p> +<p>‘I bid thee stay by me till the flood is over; for I +have yet a word to say to thee.’</p> +<p>So he stood there gazing down on the grass in his turn, and +not daring to raise his eyes to her face, and the minutes seemed +long to him: till at last she said in a voice scarcely yet clear +of weeping:</p> +<p>‘Wilt thou say anything to me, and tell me what thou +hast done, and why, and what thou deemest will come of +it?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘I will tell the truth as I know it, because +thou askest it of me, and not because I would excuse myself +before thee. What have I done? Yesterday I plighted +my troth to wed the woman that I met last autumn in the +wood. And why? I wot not why, but that I longed for +her. Yet I must tell thee that it seemed to me, and yet +seemeth, that I might do no otherwise—that there was +nothing else in the world for me to do. What do I deem will +come of it, sayest thou? This, that we shall be happy +together, she and I, till the day of our death.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘And even so long shall I be sorry: so far are +we sundered now. Alas! who looked for it? And whither +shall I turn to now?’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘She bade me tell thee that to-morrow is +a new day: meseemeth I know her meaning.’</p> +<p>‘No word of hers hath any meaning to me,’ said the +Bride.</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said he, ‘but hast thou not heard +these rumours of war that are in the Dale? Shall not these +things avail thee? Much may grow out of them; and thou with +the mighty heart, so faithful and compassionate!’</p> +<p><a name="page168"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 168</span>She +said: ‘What sayest thou? What may grow out of +them? Yea, I have heard those rumours as a man sick to +death heareth men talk of their business down in the street while +he lieth on his bed; and already he hath done with it all, and +hath no world to mend or mar. For me nought shall grow out +of it. What meanest thou?’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘Is there nought in the fellowship of +Folks, and the aiding of the valiant, and the deliverance of the +hapless?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘there is nought to +me. I cannot think of it to-day nor yet to-morrow +belike. Yet true it is that I may mingle in it, though +thinking nought of it. But this shall not avail +me.’</p> +<p>She was silent a little, but presently spake and said: +‘Thou sayest right; it is not thou that hast done this, but +the woman who sent me the ring and the message of an old +saw. O that she should be born to sunder us! How hath +it befallen that I am now so little to thee and she so +much?’</p> +<p>And again she was silent; and after a while Face-of-god spake +kindly and softly and said: ‘Kinswoman, wilt thou for ever +begrudge our love? this grudge lieth heavy on my soul, and it is +I alone that have to bear it.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘This is but a light burden for thee to bear, +when thou hast nought else to bear! But do I begrudge thee +thy love, Gold-mane? I know not that. Rather +meseemeth I do not believe in it—nor shall do +ever.’</p> +<p>Then she held her peace a long while, nor did he speak one +word: and they were so still, that a robin came hopping about +them, close to the hem of her kirtle, and a starling pitched in +the apple-tree hard by and whistled and chuckled, turning about +and about, heeding them nought. Then at last she lifted up +her face from looking on the grass and said: ‘These are +idle words and avail nothing: one thing only I know, that we are +sundered. And now it repenteth me that I have shown thee my +tears and my grief and my sickness of the earth and those that +dwell thereon. I am ashamed of it, as if thou hadst smitten +me, and I had come and <a name="page169"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 169</span>shown thee the stripes, and said, +See what thou hast done! hast thou no pity? Yea, thou +pitiest me, and wilt try to forget thy pity. Belike thou +art right when thou sayest, To-morrow is a new day; belike +matters will arise that will call me back to life, and I shall +once more take heed of the joy and sorrow of my people. +Nay, it is most like that this I shall feign to do even +now. But if to-morrow be a new day, it is to-day now and +not to-morrow, and so shall it be for long. Hereof belike +we shall talk no more, thou and I. For as the days wear, +the dealings between us shall be that thou shalt but get thee +away from my life, and I shall be nought to thee but the name of +a kinswoman. Thus should it be even wert thou to strive to +make it otherwise; and thou shalt <i>not</i> strive. So let +all this be; for this is not the word I had to say to thee. +But hearken! now are we sundered, and it irketh me beyond measure +that folk know it not, and are kind, and rejoice in our love, and +deem it a happy thing for the folk; and this burden I may bear no +longer. So I shall declare unto men that I will not wed +thee; and belike they may wonder why it is, till they see thee +wedded to the Woman of the Mountain. Art thou content that +so it shall be?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Nay, thou shalt not take this all +upon thyself; I also shall declare unto the Folk that I will wed +none but her, the Mountain-Woman.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘This shalt thou not do; I forbid it +thee. And I <i>will</i> take it all upon myself. +Shall I have it said of me that I am unmeet to wed thee, and that +thou hast found me out at last and at latest? I lay this +upon thee, that wheresoever I declare this and whatsoever I may +say, thou shalt hold thy peace. This at least thou +may’st do for me. Wilt thou?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ he said, ‘though it shall put me to +shame.’</p> +<p>Again she was silent for a little; then she said:</p> +<p>‘O Gold-mane, this would I take upon myself not soothly +for any shame of seeming to be thy cast-off; but because it is I +who needs must bear all the sorrow of our sundering; and I have +the <a name="page170"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 170</span>will +to bear it greater and heavier, that I may be as the women of old +time, and they that have come from the Gods, lest I belittle my +life with malice and spite and confusion, and it become poisonous +to me. Be at peace! be at peace! And leave all to the +wearing of the years; and forget not that which thou hast +sworn!’</p> +<p>Therewith she turned and went from that green place toward the +House of the Face, walking slowly through the garden amongst the +sweet odours, beneath the fair blossoms, a body most dainty and +beauteous of fashion, but the casket of grievous sorrow, which +all that goodliness availed not.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god lingered in that place a little, and for that +little while the joy of his life was dulled and overworn; and the +days before his wandering on the mountain seemed to him free and +careless and happy days that he could not but regret. He +was ashamed, moreover, that this so unquenchable grief should +come but of him, and the pleasure of his life, which he himself +had found out for himself, and which was but such a little +portion of the Earth and the deeds thereof. But presently +his thought wandered from all this, and as he turned away from +the sundial and went his ways through the garden, he called to +mind his longing for the day of the spring market, when he should +see the Sun-beam again and be cherished by the sweetness of her +love.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV. OF THE GATE-THING AT BURGSTEAD.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">But</span> now must he hasten, for the +Gate-thing was to be holden two hours before noon; so he betook +him speedily to the Hall, and took his shield and did on a goodly +helm and girt his sword to his side, for men must needs go to all +folk-motes with their weapons and clad in war-gear. Thus he +went forth to the Gate with many others, and there already were +many folk assembled in the space aforesaid betwixt the Gate of +the Burg and the sheer rocks on the face of which were the steps +that led <a name="page171"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +171</span>up to the ancient Tower on the height. The +Alderman was sitting on the great stone by the Gate-side which +was his appointed place, and beside him on the stone bench were +the six Wardens of the Burg; but of the six Wardens of the Dale +there were but three, for the others had not yet heard tell of +the battle or had got the summons to the Thing, since they had +been about their business down the Dale.</p> +<p>Face-of-god took his place silently amongst the neighbours, +but men made way for him, so that he must needs stand in front, +facing his father and the Wardens; and there went up a murmur of +expectation round about him, both because the word had gone about +that he had a tale of new tidings to tell, and also because men +deemed him their best and handiest man, though he was yet so +young.</p> +<p>Now the Alderman looked around and beheld a great throng +gathered together, and he looked on the shadow of the Gate which +the southering sun was casting on the hard white ground of the +Thing-stead, and he saw that it had just taken in the +standing-stone which was in the midst of the place. On the +face of the said stone was carven the image of a fighting man +with shield on arm and axe in hand; for it had been set there in +old time in memory of the man who had bidden the Folk build the +Gate and its wall, and had showed them how to fashion it: for he +was a deft house-smith as well as a great warrior; and his name +was Iron-hand. So when the Alderman saw that this stone was +wholly within the shadow of the Gate he knew that it was the due +time for the hallowing-in of the Thing. So he bade one of +the wardens who sat beside him and had a great slug-horn slung +about him, to rise and set the horn to his mouth.</p> +<p>So that man arose and blew three great blasts that went +bellowing about the towers and down the street, and beat back +again from the face of the sheer rocks and up them and over into +the wild-wood; and the sound of it went on the light west-wind +along the lips of the Dale toward the mountain wastes. And +many a <a name="page172"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +172</span>goodman, when he heard the voice of the horn in the +bright spring morning, left spade or axe or plough-stilts, or the +foddering of the ewes and their younglings, and turned back home +to fetch his sword and helm and hasten to the Thing, though he +knew not why it was summoned: and women wending over the meadows, +who had not yet heard of the battle in the wood, hearkened and +stood still on the green grass or amidst the ripples of the ford, +and the threat of coming trouble smote heavy on their hearts, for +they knew that great tidings must be towards if a Thing must +needs be summoned so close to the Great Folk-mote.</p> +<p>But now the Alderman stood up and spake amidst the silence +that followed the last echoes of the horn:</p> +<p>‘Now is hallowed in this Gate-thing of the Burgstead Men +and the Men of the Dale, wherein they shall take counsel +concerning matters late befallen, that press hard upon +them. Let no man break the peace of the Holy Thing, lest he +become a man accursed in holy places from the plain up to the +mountain, and from the mountain down to the plain; a man not to +be cherished of any man of good will, not be holpen with victuals +or edge-tool or draught-beast; a man to be sheltered under no +roof-tree, and warmed at no hearth of man: so help us the Warrior +and the God of the Earth, and Him of the Face, and all the +Fathers!’</p> +<p>When he had spoken men clashed their weapons in token of +assent; and he sat down again, and there was silence for a +space. But presently came thrusting forward a goodman of +the Dale, who seemed as if he had come hurriedly to the Thing; +for his face was running down with sweat, his wide-rimmed iron +cap sat awry over his brow, and he was girt with a rusty sword +without a scabbard, and the girdle was ill-braced up about his +loins. So he said:</p> +<p>‘I am Red-coat of Waterless of the Lower Dale. +Early this morning as I was going afield I met on the way a man +akin to me, Fox of Upton to wit, and he told me that men were +being summoned to a Gate-thing. So I turned back home, and +caught up <a name="page173"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +173</span>any weapon that came handy, and here I am, Alderman, +asking thee of the tidings which hath driven thee to call this +Thing so hard on the Great Folk-mote, for I know them nothing +so.’</p> +<p>Then stood up Iron-face the Alderman and said: ‘This is +well asked, and soon shall ye be as wise as I am on this +matter. Know ye, O men of Burgstead and the Dale, that we +had not called this Gate-thing so hard on the Great Folk-mote had +not great need been to look into troublous matters. Long +have ye dwelt in peace, and it is years on years now since any +foeman hath fallen on the Dale: but, as ye will bear in mind, +last autumn were there ransackings in the Dale and amidst of the +Shepherds after the manner of deeds of war; and it troubleth us +that none can say who wrought these ill deeds. Next, but a +little while agone, was Wood-grey, a valiant goodman of the +Woodlanders, slain close to his own door by evil men. These +men we took at first for mere gangrel felons and outcasts from +their own folk: though there were some who spoke against that +from the beginning.</p> +<p>‘But thirdly are new tidings again: for three days ago, +while some of the folk were hunting peaceably in the Wild-wood +and thinking no evil, they were fallen upon of set purpose by a +host of men-at-arms, and nought would serve but mere battle for +dear life, so that many of our neighbours were hurt, and three +slain outright; and now mark this, that those who there fell upon +our folk were clad and armed even as the two felons that slew +Wood-grey, and moreover were like them in aspect of body. +Now stand forth Hall-face my son, and answer to my questions in a +loud voice, so that all may hear thee.’</p> +<p>So Hall-face stood forth, clad in gleaming war-gear, with an +axe over his shoulder, and seemed a doughty warrior. And +Iron-face said to him:</p> +<p>‘Tell me, son, those whom ye met in the wood, and of +whom ye brought home two captives, how much like were they to the +murder-carles at Wood-grey’s?’</p> +<p>Said Hall-face: ‘As like as peas out of the same cod, +and to <a name="page174"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +174</span>our eyes all those whom we saw in the wood might have +been sons of one father and one mother, so much alike were +they.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said the Alderman; ‘now tell me how +many by thy deeming fell upon you in the wood?’</p> +<p>Said Hall-face: ‘We deemed that if they were any less +than threescore, they were little less.’</p> +<p>‘Great was the odds,’ said the Alderman. +‘Or how many were ye?’</p> +<p>‘One score and seven,’ said Hall-face.</p> +<p>Said the Alderman: ‘And yet ye escaped with life all +save those three?’</p> +<p>Hall-face said: ‘I deem that scarce one should have come +back alive, had it not been that as we fought came a noise like +the howling of wolves, and thereat the foemen turned and fled, +and there followed on the fleers tall men clad in sheep-brown +raiment, who smote them down as they fled.’</p> +<p>‘Here then is the story, neighbours,’ said the +Alderman, ‘and ye may see thereby that if those slayers of +Wood-grey were outcast, their band is a great one; but it seemeth +rather that they were men of a folk whose craft it is to rob with +the armed hand, and to slay the robbed; and that they are now +gathering on our borders for war. Yet, moreover, they have +foemen in the woods who should be fellows-in-arms of us. +How sayest thou, Stone-face? Thou art old, and hast seen +many wars in the Dale, and knowest the Wild-wood to its +innermost.</p> +<p>‘Alderman,’ said Stone-face, ‘and ye +neighbours of the Dale, maybe these foes whom ye have met are not +of the race of man, but are trolls and wood-wights. Now if +they be trolls it is ill, for then is the world growing worser, +and the wood shall be right perilous for those who needs must +fare therein. Yet if they be men it is a worse matter; for +the trolls would not come out of the waste into the sunlight of +the Dale. But these foes, if they be men, are lusting after +our fair Dale to eat it up, and it is most like that they are +gathering a huge host to fall upon us at home. <a +name="page175"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 175</span>Such things +I have heard of when I was young, and the aspect of the evil men +who overran the kindreds of old time, according to all tales and +lays that I have heard, is even such as the aspect of those whom +we have seen of late. As to those wolves who saved the +neighbours and chased their foemen, there is one here who belike +knoweth more of all this than we do, and that, O Alderman, is thy +son whom I have fostered, Face-of-god to wit. Bid him +answer to thy questioning, and tell us what he hath seen and +heard of late; then shall we verily know the whole story as far +as it can be known.’</p> +<p>Then men pressed round, and were eager to hear what +Face-of-god would be saying. But or ever the Alderman could +begin to question him, the throng was cloven by new-comers, and +these were the men who had been sent to bring home the corpses of +the Dusky Men: so they had cast loaded hooks into the Weltering +Water, and had dragged up him whom Face-of-god had shoved into +the eddy, and who had sunk like a stone just where he fell, and +now they were bringing him on a bier along with him who had been +slain a-land. They were set down in the place before the +Alderman, and men who had not seen them before looked eagerly on +them that they might behold the aspect of their foemen; and +nought lovely were they to look on; for the drowned man was +already bleached and swollen with the water, and the other, his +face was all wryed and twisted with that spear-thrust in the +mouth.</p> +<p>Then the Alderman said: ‘I would question my son +Face-of-god. Let him stand forth!’</p> +<p>And therewith he smiled merrily in his son’s face, for +he was standing right in front of him; and he said:</p> +<p>‘Ask of me, Alderman, and I will answer.’</p> +<p>‘Kinsman,’ said Iron-face, ‘look at these +two dead men, and tell me, if thou hast seen any such besides +those two murder-carles who were slain at Carlstead; or if thou +knowest aught of their folk?’</p> +<p><a name="page176"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 176</span>Said +Face-of-god: ‘Yesterday I saw six others like to these both +in array and of body, and three of them I slew, for we were in +battle with them early in the morning.’</p> +<p>There was a murmur of joy at this word, since all men took +these felons for deadly foemen; but Iron-face said: ‘What +meanest thou by “we”?’</p> +<p>‘I and the men who had guested me overnight,’ said +Face-of-god, ‘and they slew the other three; or rather a +woman of them slew the felons.’</p> +<p>‘Valiant she was; all good go with her hand!’ said +the Alderman. ‘But what be these people, and where do +they dwell?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘As to what they are, they are of the +kindred of the Gods and the Fathers, valiant men, and +guest-cherishing: rich have they been, and now are poor: and +their poverty cometh of these same felons, who mastered them by +numbers not to be withstood. As to where they dwell: when I +say the name of their dwelling-place men mock at me, as if I +named some valley in the moon: yet came I to Burgdale thence in +one day across the mountain-necks led by sure guides, and I tell +thee that the name of their abode is Shadowy Vale.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Iron-face, ‘knoweth any man here +of Shadowy Vale, or where it is?’</p> +<p>None answered for a while; but there was an old man who was +sitting on the shafts of a wain on the outskirts of the throng, +and when he heard this word he asked his neighbour what the +Alderman was saying, and he told him. Then said that +elder:</p> +<p>‘Give me place; for I have a word to say +hereon.’ Therewith he arose, and made his way to the +front of the ring of men, and said: ‘Alderman, thou knowest +me?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Iron-face, ‘thou art called the +Fiddle, because of thy sweet speech and thy minstrelsy; whereof I +mind me well in the time when I was young and thou no longer +young.’</p> +<p>‘So it is,’ said the Fiddle. ‘Now +hearken! When I was very young I heard of a vale lying far +away across the mountain-necks; <a name="page177"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 177</span>a vale where the sun shone never in +winter and scantily in summer; for my sworn foster-brother, +Fight-fain, a bold man and a great hunter, had happened upon it; +and on a day in full midsummer he brought me thither; and even +now I see the Vale before me as in a picture; a marvellous place, +well grassed, treeless, narrow, betwixt great cliff-walls of +black stone, with a green river running through it towards a +yawning gap and a huge force. Amidst that Vale was a +doom-ring of black stones, and nigh thereto a feast-hall well +builded of the like stones, over whose door was carven the image +of a wolf with red gaping jaws, and within it (for we entered +into it) were stone benches on the daïs. Thence we +came away, and thither again we went in late autumn, and so dusk +and cold it was at that season, that we knew not what to call it +save the valley of deep shade. But its real name we never +knew; for there was no man there to give us a name or tell us any +tale thereof; but all was waste there; the wimbrel laughed across +its water, the raven croaked from its crags, the eagle screamed +over it, and the voices of its waters never ceased; and thus we +left it. So the seasons passed, and we went thither no +more: for Fight-fain died, and without him wandering over the +waste was irksome to me; so never have I seen that valley again, +or heard men tell thereof.</p> +<p>‘Now, neighbours, have I told you of a valley which +seemeth to be Shadowy Vale; and this is true and no made-up +story.’</p> +<p>The Alderman nodded kindly to him, and then said to +Face-of-god: ‘Kinsman, is this word according with what +thou knowest of Shadowy Vale?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, on all points,’ said Face-of-god; ‘he +hath put before me a picture of the valley. And whereas he +saith, that in his youth it was waste, this also goeth with my +knowledge thereof. For once was it peopled, and then was +waste, and now again is it peopled.’</p> +<p>‘Tell us then more of the folk thereof,’ said the +Alderman; ‘are they many?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘they are +not. How might they be <a name="page178"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 178</span>many, dwelling in that narrow Vale +amid the wastes? But they are valiant, both men and women, +and strong and well-liking. Once they dwelt in a fair dale +called Silver-dale, the name whereof will be to you as a name in +a lay; and there were they wealthy and happy. Then fell +upon them this murderous Folk, whom they call the Dusky Men; and +they fought and were overcome, and many of them were slain, and +many enthralled, and the remnant of them escaped through the +passes of the mountains and came back to dwell in Shadowy Vale, +where their forefathers had dwelt long and long ago; and this +overthrow befell them ten years agone. But now their old +foemen have broken out from Silver-dale and have taken to +scouring the wood seeking prey; so they fall upon these Dusky Men +as occasion serves, and slay them without pity, as if they were +adders or evil dragons; and indeed they be worse. And these +valiant men know for certain that their foemen are now of mind to +fall upon this Dale and destroy it, as they have done with others +nigher to them. And they will slay our men, and lie with +our women against their will, and enthrall our children, and +torment all those that lie under their hands till life shall be +worse than death to them. Therefore, O Alderman and +Wardens, and ye neighbours all, it behoveth you to take counsel +what we shall do, and that speedily.’</p> +<p>There was again a murmur, as of men nothing daunted, but +intent on taking some way through the coming trouble. But +no man said aught till the Alderman spake:</p> +<p>‘When didst thou first happen upon this Earl-folk, +son?’</p> +<p>‘Late last autumn,’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>Said Iron-face: ‘Then mightest thou have told us of this +tale before.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said his son, ‘but I knew it not, or +but little of it, till two days agone. In the autumn I +wandered in the woodland, and on the fell I happened on a few of +this folk dwelling in a booth by the pine-wood; and they were +kind and guest-fain with me, and gave me meat and drink and +lodging, and bade me come to <a name="page179"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 179</span>Shadowy Vale in the spring, when I +should know more of them. And that was I fain of; for they +are wise and goodly men. But I deemed no more of those that +I saw there save as men who had been outlawed by their own folk +for deeds that were unlawful belike, but not shameful, and were +biding their time of return, and were living as they might +meanwhile. But of the whole Folk and their foemen knew I no +more than ye did, till two days agone, when I met them again in +Shadowy Vale. Also I think before long ye shall see their +chieftain in Burgstead, for he hath a word for us. Lastly, +my mind it is that those brown-clad men who helped Hall-face and +his company in the wood were nought but men of this Earl-kin +seeking their foemen; for indeed they told me that they had come +upon a battle in the woodland wherein they had slain their +foemen. Now have I told you all that ye need to know +concerning these matters.’</p> +<p>Again was there silence as Iron-face sat pondering a question +for his son; then a goodman of the Upper Dale, Gritgarth to wit, +spake and said:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane mine, tell us how many is this folk; I mean +their fighting-men?’</p> +<p>‘Well asked, neighbour,’ said Iron-face.</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Their fighting-men of full age may be +five score; but besides that there shall be some two or three +score of women that will fight, whoever says them nay; and many +of these are little worse in the field than men; or no worse, for +they shoot well in the bow. Moreover, there will be a full +score of swains not yet twenty winters old whom ye may not hinder +to fight if anything is a-doing.’</p> +<p>‘This is no great host,’ said the Alderman; +‘yet if they deem there is little to lose by fighting, and +nought to gain by sitting still, they may go far in winning their +desire; and that more especially if they may draw into their +quarrel some other valiant Folk more in number than they +be. I marvel not, though, they were kind to thee, son +Gold-mane, if they knew who thou wert.’</p> +<p><a name="page180"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +180</span>‘They knew it,’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘Neighbours,’ said the Alderman, ‘have ye +any rede hereon, and aught to say to back your rede?’</p> +<p>Then spake the Fiddle: ‘As ye know and may see, I am now +very old, and, as the word goes, unmeet for battle: yet might I +get me to the field, either on mine own legs or on the legs of +some four-foot beast, I would strike, if it were but one stroke, +on these pests of the earth. And, Alderman, meseemeth we +shall do amiss if we bid not the Earl-folk of Shadowy Vale to be +our fellows in arms in this adventure. For look you, how +few soever they be, they will be sure to know the ways of our +foemen, and the mountain passes, and the surest and nighest roads +across the necks and the mires of the waste; and though they be +not a host, yet shall they be worth a host to us?’</p> +<p>When men heard his words they shouted for joy of them; for +hatred of the Dusky Men who should so mar their happy life in the +Dale was growing up in them, and the more that hatred waxed, the +more waxed their love of those valiant ones.</p> +<p>Now Red-coat of Waterless spake again: he was a big man, both +tall and broad, ruddy-faced and red-haired, some forty winters +old. He said:</p> +<p>‘Life hath been well with us of the Lower Dale, and we +deem that we have much to lose in losing it. Yet ill would +the bargain be to buy life with thralldom: we have been +over-merry hitherto for that. Therefore I say, to +battle! And as to these men, these well-wishers of +Face-of-god, if they also are minded for battle with our foes, we +were fools indeed if we did not join them to our company, were +they but one score instead of six.’</p> +<p>Men shouted again, and they said that Red-coat had spoken +well. Then one after other the goodmen of the Dale came and +gave their word for fellowship in arms with the Men of Shadowy +Vale, if there were such as Face-of-god had said, which they +doubted not; and amongst them that spake were Fox of Nethertown, +and Warwell, and Gritgarth, and Bearswain, and Warcliff, and <a +name="page181"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 181</span>Hart of +Highcliff, and Worm of Willowholm, and Bullsbane, and Highneb of +the Marsh: all these were stout men-at-arms and men of good +counsel.</p> +<p>Last of all the Alderman spake and said:</p> +<p>‘As to the war, that must we needs meet if all be sooth +that we have heard, and I doubt it not.</p> +<p>‘Now therefore let us look to it like wise men while +time yet serves. Ye shall know that the muster of the +Dalesmen will bring under shield eight long hundreds of men +well-armed, and of the Shepherd-Folk four hundreds, and of the +Woodlanders two hundreds; and this is a goodly host if it be well +ordered and wisely led. Now am I your Alderman and your +Doomster, and I can heave up a sword as well as another maybe, +nor do I think that I shall blench in the battle; yet I misdoubt +me that I am no leader or orderer of men-of-war: therefore ye +will do wisely to choose a wiser man-at-arms than I be for your +War-leader; and if at the Great Folk-mote, when all the Houses +and Kindreds are gathered, men yeasay your choosing, then let him +abide; but if they naysay it, let him give place to +another. For time presses. Will ye so +choose?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, yea!’ cried all men.</p> +<p>‘Good is that, neighbours,’ said the +Alderman. ‘Whom will ye have for War-leader? +Consider well.’</p> +<p>Short was their rede, for every man opened his mouth and cried +out ‘Face-of-god!’ Then said the Alderman:</p> +<p>‘The man is young and untried; yet though he is so near +akin to me, I will say that ye will do wisely to take him; for he +is both deft of his hands and brisk; and moreover, of this matter +he knoweth more than all we together. Now therefore I +declare him your War-leader till the time of the Great +Folk-mote.’</p> +<p>Then all men shouted with great glee and clashed their +weapons; but some few put their heads together and spake apart a +little while, and then one of them, Red-coat of Waterless to wit, +came forward and said: ‘Alderman, some of us deem it good +that <a name="page182"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +182</span>Stone-face, the old man wise in war and in the ways of +the Wood, should be named as a counsellor to the War-leader; and +Hall-face, a very brisk and strong young man, to be his right +hand and sword-bearer.’</p> +<p>‘Good is that,’ said Iron-face. +‘Neighbours, will ye have it so?’ This also +they yeasaid without delay, and the Alderman declared Stone-face +and Hall-face the helpers of Face-of-god in this business. +Then he said:</p> +<p>‘If any hath aught to say concerning what is best to be +done at once, it were good that he said it now before all and not +to murmur and grudge hereafter.’</p> +<p>None spake save the Fiddle, who said: ‘Alderman and +War-leader, one thing would I say: that if these foemen are +anywise akin to those overrunners of the Folks of whom the tales +went in my youth (for I also as well as Stone-face mind me well +of those tales concerning them), it shall not avail us to sit +still and await their onset. For then may they not be +withstood, when they have gathered head and burst out and over +the folk that have been happy, even as the waters that overtop a +dyke and cover with their muddy ruin the deep green grass and the +flower-buds of spring. Therefore my rede is, as soon as may +be to go seek these folk in the woodland and wheresoever else +they may be wandering. What sayest thou, +Face-of-god?’</p> +<p>‘My rede is as thine,’ said he; ‘and to +begin with, I do now call upon ten tens of good men to meet me in +arms at the beginning of Wildlake’s Way to-morrow morning +at daybreak; and I bid my brother Hall-face to summon such as are +most meet thereto. For this I deem good, that we scour the +wood daily at present till we hear fresh tidings from them of +Shadowy Vale, who are nigher than we to the foemen. Now, +neighbours, are ye ready to meet me?’</p> +<p>Then all shouted, ‘Yea, we will go, we will +go!’</p> +<p>Said the Alderman: ‘Now have we made provision for the +war in that which is nearest to our hands. Yet have we to +deal with <a name="page183"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +183</span>the matter of the fellowship with the Folk whom +Face-of-god hath seen. This is a matter for thee, son, at +least till the Great Folk-mote is holden. Tell me then, +shall we send a messenger to Shadowy Vale to speak with this +folk, or shall we abide the chieftain’s coming?’</p> +<p>‘By my rede,’ said Face-of-god, ‘we shall +abide his coming: for first, though I might well make my way +thither, I doubt if I could give any the bearings, so that he +could come there without me; and belike I am needed at home, +since I am become War-leader. Moreover, when your messenger +cometh to Shadowy Vale, he may well chance to find neither the +chieftain there, nor the best of his men; for whiles are they +here, and whiles there, as they wend following after the Dusky +Men.’</p> +<p>‘It is well, son,’ said the Alderman, ‘let +it be as thou sayest: soothly this matter must needs be brought +before the Great Folk-mote. Now will I ask if any other +hath any word to say, or any rede to give before this Gate-thing +sundereth?’</p> +<p>But no man came forward, and all men seemed well content and +of good heart; and it was now well past noontide.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI. THE ENDING OF THE GATE-THING.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">But</span> just as the Alderman was on the +point of rising to declare the breaking-up of the Thing, there +came a stir in the throng and it opened, and a warrior came forth +into the innermost of the ring of men, arrayed in goodly +glittering War-gear; clad in such wise that a tunicle of precious +gold-wrought web covered the hauberk all but the sleeves thereof, +and the hem of it beset with blue mountain-stones smote against +the ankles and well-nigh touched the feet, shod with sandals +gold-embroidered and gemmed. This warrior bore a goodly +gilded helm on the head, and held in hand a spear with +gold-garlanded shaft, and was girt with a sword whose hilts and +scabbard both were adorned with gold and gems: beardless, <a +name="page184"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +184</span>smooth-cheeked, exceeding fair of face was the warrior, +but pale and somewhat haggard-eyed: and those who were nearby +beheld and wondered; for they saw that there was come the Bride +arrayed for war and battle, as if she were a messenger from the +House of the Gods, and the Burg that endureth for ever.</p> +<p>Then she fell to speech in a voice which at first was somewhat +hoarse and broken, but cleared as she went on, and she said:</p> +<p>‘There sittest thou, O Alderman of Burgdale! Is +Face-of-god thy son anywhere nigh, so that he can hear +me?’</p> +<p>But Iron-face wondered at her word, and said: ‘He is +beside thee, as he should be.’ For indeed Face-of-god +was touching her, shoulder to shoulder. But she looked not +to the right hand nor the left, but said:</p> +<p>‘Hearken, Iron-face! Chief of the House of the +Face, Alderman of the Dale, and ye also, neighbours and goodmen +of the Dale: I am a woman called the Bride, of the House of the +Steer, and ye have heard that I have plighted my troth to +Face-of-god to wed with him, to love him, and lie in his +bed. But it is not so: we are not troth-plight; nor will I +wed with him, nor any other, but will wend with you to the war, +and play my part therein according to what might is in me; nor +will I be worser than the wives of Shadowy Vale.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god heard her words with no change of countenance; but +Iron-face reddened over all his face, and stared at her, and knit +his brows and said:</p> +<p>‘Maiden, what are these words? What have we done +to thee? Have I not been to thee as a father, and loved +thee dearly? Is not my son goodly and manly and deft in +arms? Hath it not ever been the wont of the House of the +Face to wed in the House of the Steer? and in these two Houses +there hath never yet been a goodlier man and a lovelier maiden +than are ye two. What have we done then?’</p> +<p>‘Ye have done nought against me,’ she said, +‘and all that thou sayest is sooth; yet will I not wed with +Face-of-god.’</p> +<p><a name="page185"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 185</span>Yet +fiercer waxed the face of the Alderman, and he said in a loud +voice:</p> +<p>‘But how if I tell thee that I will speak with thy +kindred of the Steer, and thou shalt do after my bidding whether +thou wilt or whether thou wilt not?’</p> +<p>‘And how will ye compel me thereto?’ she +said. ‘Are there thralls in the Dale? Or will +ye make me an outlaw? Who shall heed it? Or I shall +betake me to Shadowy Vale and become one of their +warrior-maidens.’</p> +<p>Now was the Alderman’s face changing from red to white, +and belike he forgat the Thing, and what he was doing there, and +he cried out:</p> +<p>‘This is an evil day, and who shall help me? Thou, +Face-of-god, what hast thou to say? Wilt thou let this +woman go without a word? What hath bewitched +thee?’</p> +<p>But never a word spake his son, but stood looking straight +forward, cold and calm by seeming. Then turned Iron-face +again to the Bride, and said in a softer voice:</p> +<p>‘Tell me, maiden, whom I erst called daughter, what hath +befallen, that thou wilt leave my son; thou who wert once so kind +and loving to him; whose hand was always seeking his, whose eyes +were ever following his; who wouldst go where he bade, and come +when he called. What hath betid that ye have cast him out, +and flee from our House?’</p> +<p>She flushed red beneath her helm and said:</p> +<p>‘There is war in the land, and I have seen it coming, +and that things shall change around us. I have looked about +me and seen men happy and women content, and children weary for +mere mirth and joy. And I have thought, in a day, or two +days or three, all this shall be changed, and the women shall be, +some anxious and wearied with waiting, some casting all hope +away; and the men, some shall come back to the garth no more, and +some shall come back maimed and useless, and there shall be loss +of friends and fellows, and mirth departed, and dull days and +empty hours, <a name="page186"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +186</span>and the children wandering about marvelling at the +sorrow of the house. All this I saw before me, and grief +and pain and wounding and death; and I said: Shall I be any +better than the worst of the folk that loveth me? Nay, this +shall never be; and since I have learned to be deft with mine +hands in all the play of war, and that I am as strong as many a +man, and as hardy-hearted as any, I will give myself to the +Warrior and the God of the Face; and the battle-field shall be my +home, and the after-grief of the fight my banquet and holiday, +that I may bear the burden of my people, in the battle and out of +it; and know every sorrow that the Dale hath; and cast aside as a +grievous and ugly thing the bed of the warrior that the maiden +desires, and the toying of lips and hands and soft words of +desire, and all the joy that dwelleth in the Castle of Love and +the Garden thereof; while the world outside is sick and sorry, +and the fields lie waste and the harvest burneth. Even so +have I sworn, even so will I do.’</p> +<p>Her eyes glittered and her cheek was flushed, and her voice +was clear and ringing now; and when she ended there arose a +murmur of praise from the men round about her. But +Iron-face said coldly:</p> +<p>‘These are great words; but I know not what they +mean. If thou wilt to the field and fight among the carles +(and that I would not naysay, for it hath oft been done and +praised aforetime), why shouldest thou not go side by side with +Face-of-god and as his plighted maiden?’</p> +<p>The light which the sweetness of speech had brought into her +face had died out of it now, and she looked weary and hapless as +she answered him slowly:</p> +<p>‘I will not wed with Face-of-god, but will fare afield +as a virgin of war, as I have sworn to the Warrior.’</p> +<p>Then waxed Iron-face exceeding wroth, and he rose up before +all men and cried loudly and fiercely:</p> +<p>‘There is some lie abroad, that windeth about us as the +gossamers in the lanes of an autumn morning.’</p> +<p>And therewith he strode up to Face-of-god as though he had <a +name="page187"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 187</span>nought to +do with the Thing; and he stood before him and cried out at him +while all men wondered:</p> +<p>‘Thou! what hast thou done to turn this maiden’s +heart to stone? Who is it that is devising guile with thee +to throw aside this worthy wedding in a worthy House, with whom +our sons are ever wont to wed? Speak, tell the +tale!’</p> +<p>But Face-of-god held his peace and stood calm and proud before +all men.</p> +<p>Then the blood mounted to Iron-face’s head, and he +forgat folk and kindred and the war to come, and he cried so that +all the place rang with the words of his anger:</p> +<p>‘Thou dastard! I see thee now; it is thou that +hast done this, and not the maiden; and now thou hast made her +bear a double burden, and set her on to speak for thee, whilst +thou standest by saying nought, and wilt take no scruple’s +weight of her shame upon thee!’</p> +<p>But his son spake never a word, and Iron-face cried: +‘Out on thee! I know thee now, and why thou wouldest +not to the West-land last winter. I am no fool; I know +thee. Where hast thou hidden the stranger woman?’</p> +<p>Therewith he drew forth his sword and hove it aloft as if to +hew down Face-of-god, who spake not nor flinched nor raised a +hand from his side. But the Bride threw herself in front of +Gold-mane, while there arose an angry cry of ‘The Peace of +the Holy Thing! Peace-breaking, peace-breaking!’ and +some cried, ‘For the War-leader, the War-leader!’ and +as men could for the press they drew forth their swords, and +there was tumult and noise all over the Thing-stead.</p> +<p>But Stone-face caught hold of the Alderman’s right arm +and dragged down the sword, and the big carle, Red-coat of +Waterless, came up behind him and cast his arms about his middle +and drew him back; and presently he looked around him, and slowly +sheathed his sword, and went back to his place and sat him down; +and in a little while the noise abated and swords were sheathed, +<a name="page188"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 188</span>and men +waxed quiet again, and the Alderman arose and said in a loud +voice, but in the wonted way of the head man of the Thing:</p> +<p>‘Here hath been trouble in the Holy Thing; a violent man +hath troubled it, and drawn sword on a neighbour; will the +neighbours give the dooming hereof into the hands of the +Alderman?’</p> +<p>Now all knew Iron-face, and they cried out, ‘That will +we.’ So he spake again:</p> +<p>‘I doom the troubler of the Peace of the Holy Thing to +pay a fine, to wit double the blood-wite that would be duly paid +for a full-grown freeman of the kindreds.’</p> +<p>Then the cry went up and men yeasaid his doom, and all said +that it was well and fairly doomed; and Iron-face sat still.</p> +<p>But Stone-face stood forth and said:</p> +<p>‘Here have been wild words in the air; and dreams have +taken shape and come amongst us, and have bewitched us, so that +friends and kin have wrangled. And meseemeth that this is +through the wizardry of these felons, who, even dead as they are, +have cast spells over us. Good it were to cast them into +the Death Tarn, and then to get to our work; for there is much to +do.’</p> +<p>All men yeasaid that; and Forkbeard of Lea went with those who +had borne the corpses thither to cast them into the black +pool.</p> +<p>But the Fiddle spake and said:</p> +<p>‘Stone-face sayeth sooth. O Alderman, thou art no +young man, yet am I old enough to be thy father; so will I give +thee a rede, and say this: Face-of-god thy son is no liar or +dastard or beguiler, but he is a young man and exceeding goodly +of fashion, well-spoken and kind; so that few women may look on +him and hear him without desiring his kindness and love, and to +such men as this many things happen. Moreover, he hath now +become our captain, and is a deft warrior with his hands, and as +I deem, a sober and careful leader of men; therefore we need him +and his courage and his skill of leading. So rage not +against him as if he had done an ill deed not to be +forgiven—whatever he hath done, <a name="page189"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 189</span>whereof we know not—for life +is long before him, and most like we shall still have to thank +him for many good deeds towards us. As for the maiden, she +is both lovely and wise. She hath a sorrow at her heart, +and we deem that we know what it is. Yet hath she not lied +when she said that she would bear the burden of the griefs of the +people. Even so shall she do; and whether she will, or +whether she will not, that shall heal her own griefs. For +to-morrow is a new day. Therefore, if thou do after my +rede, thou wilt not meddle betwixt these twain, but wilt remember +all that we have to do, and that war is coming upon us. And +when that is over, we shall turn round and behold each other, and +see that we are not wholly what we were before; and then shall +that which were hard to forgive, be forgotten, and that which is +remembered be easy to forgive.’</p> +<p>So he spake; and Iron-face sat still and put his left hand to +his beard as one who pondereth; but the Bride looked in the face +of the old man the Fiddle, and then she turned and looked at +Gold-mane, and her face softened, and she stood before the +Alderman, and bent down before him and held out both her hands to +him the palms upward. Then she said: ‘Thou hast been +wroth with me, and I marvel not; for thy hope, and the hope which +we all had, hath deceived thee. But kind indeed hast thou +been to me ere now: therefore I pray thee take it not amiss if I +call to thy mind the oath which thou swearedst on the Holy Boar +last Yule, that thou wouldst not gainsay the prayer of any man if +thou couldest perform it; therefore I bid thee naysay not mine: +and that is, that thou wilt ask me no more about this matter, but +wilt suffer me to fare afield like any swain of the Dale, and to +deal so with my folk that they shall not hinder me. Also I +pray thee that thou wilt put no shame upon Face-of-god my +playmate and my kinsman, nor show thine anger to him openly, even +if for a little while thy love for him be abated. No more +than this will I ask of thee.’</p> +<p>All men who heard her were moved to the heart by her kindness +<a name="page190"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 190</span>and the +sweetness of her voice, which was like to the robin singing +suddenly on a frosty morning of early winter. But as for +Gold-mane, his heart was smitten sorely by it, and her sorrow and +her friendliness grieved him out of measure.</p> +<p>But Iron-face answered after a little while, speaking slowly +and hoarsely, and with the shame yet clinging to him of a man who +has been wroth and has speedily let his wrath run off him. +So he said:</p> +<p>‘It is well, my daughter. I have no will to +forswear myself; nor hast thou asked me a thing which is +over-hard. Yet indeed I would that to-day were yesterday, +or that many days were worn away.’</p> +<p>Then he stood up and cried in a loud voice over the +throng:</p> +<p>‘Let none forget the muster; but hold him ready against +the time that the Warden shall come to him. Let all men +obey the War-leader, Face-of-god, without question or +delay. As to the fine of the peace-breaker, it shall be +laid on the altar of the God at the Great Folk-mote. +Herewith is the Thing broken up.’</p> +<p>Then all men shouted and clashed their weapons, and so +sundered, and went about their business.</p> +<p>And the talk of men it was that the breaking of the +troth-plight between those twain was ill; for they loved +Face-of-god, and as for the Bride they deemed her the Dearest of +the kindreds and the Jewel of the Folk, and as if she were the +fairest and the kindest of all the Gods. Neither did the +wrath of Iron-face mislike any; but they said he had done well +and manly both to be wroth and to let his wrath run off +him. As to the war which was to come, they kept a good +heart about it, and deemed it as a game to be played, wherein +they might show themselves deft and valiant, and so get back to +their merry life again.</p> +<p>So wore the day through afternoon to even and night.</p> +<h2><a name="page191"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +191</span>CHAPTER XXVII. FACE-OF-GOD LEADETH A BAND THROUGH +THE WOOD.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Next</span> morning tryst was held +faithfully, and an hundred and a half were gathered together on +Wildlake’s Way; and Face-of-god ordered them into three +companies. He made Hall-face leader over the first one, and +bade him hold on his way northward, and then to make for +Boars-bait and see if he should meet with anything thereabout +where the battle had been. Red-coat of Waterless he made +captain of the second band; and he had it in charge to wend +eastward along the edge of the Dale, and not to go deep into the +wood, but to go as far as he might within the time appointed, +toward the Mountains. Furthermore, he bade both Hall-face +and Red-coat to bring their bands back to Wildlake’s Way by +the morrow at sunset, where other goodmen should be come to take +the places of their men; and then if he and his company were back +again, he would bid them further what to do; but if not, as +seemed likely, then Hall-face’s band to go west toward the +Shepherd country half a day’s journey, and so back, and +Red-coat’s east along the Dale’s lip again for the +like time, and then back, so that there might be a constant watch +and ward of the Dale kept against the Felons.</p> +<p>All being ordered Gold-mane led his own company north-east +through the thick wood, thinking that he might so fare as to come +nigh to Silver-dale, or at least to hear tidings thereof. +This intent he told to Stone-face, but the old man shook his head +and said:</p> +<p>‘Good is this if it may be done; but it is not for +everyone to go down to Hell in his lifetime and come back safe +with a tale thereof. However, whither thou wilt lead, +thither will I follow, though assured death waylayeth +us.’</p> +<p>And the old carle was joyous and proud to be on this +adventure, and said, that it was good indeed that his foster-son +had with <a name="page192"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +192</span>him a man well stricken in years, who had both seen +many things, and learned many, and had good rede to give to +valiant men.</p> +<p>So they went on their ways, and fared very warily when they +were gotten beyond those parts of the wood which they knew +well. By this time they were strung out in a long line; and +they noted their road carefully, blazing the trees on either side +when there were trees, and piling up little stone-heaps where the +trees failed them. For Stone-face said that oft it befell +men amidst the thicket and the waste to be misled by wights that +begrudged men their lives, so that they went round and round in a +ring which they might not depart from till they died; and no man +doubted his word herein.</p> +<p>All day they went, and met no foe, nay, no man at all; nought +but the wild things of the wood; and that day the wood changed +little about them from mile to mile. There were many +thickets across their road which they had to go round about; so +that to the crow flying over the tree-tops the journey had not +been long to the place where night came upon them, and where they +had to make the wood their bedchamber.</p> +<p>That night they lighted no fire, but ate such cold victual as +they might carry with them; nor had they shot any venison, since +they had with them more than enough; they made little noise or +stir therefore and fell asleep when they had set the watch.</p> +<p>On the morrow they arose betimes, and broke their fast and +went their ways till noon: by then the wood had thinned somewhat, +and there was little underwood betwixt the scrubby oak and ash +which were pretty nigh all the trees about: the ground also was +broken, and here and there rocky, and they went into and out of +rough little dales, most of which had in them a brook of water +running west and southwest; and now Face-of-god led his men +somewhat more easterly; and still for some while they met no +man.</p> +<p>At last, about four hours after noon, when they were going +less warily, because they had hitherto come across nothing to <a +name="page193"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 193</span>hinder +them, rising over the brow of a somewhat steep ridge, they saw +down in the valley below them a half score of men sitting by the +brook-side eating and drinking, their weapons lying beside them, +and along with them stood a woman with her hands tied behind her +back.</p> +<p>They saw at once that these men were of the Felons, so they +that had their bows bent, loosed at them without more ado, while +the others ran in upon them with sword and spear. The +felons leapt up and ran scattering down the dale, such of them as +were not smitten by the shafts; but he who was nighest to the +woman, ere he ran, turned and caught up a sword from the ground +and thrust it through her, and the next moment fell across the +brook with an arrow in his back.</p> +<p>No one of the felons was nimble enough to escape from the +fleet-foot hunters of Burgdale, and they were all slain there to +the number of eleven.</p> +<p>But when they came back to the woman to tend her, she breathed +her last in their hands: she was a young and fair woman, +black-haired and dark-eyed. She had on her body a gown of +rich web, but nought else: she had been bruised and sore +mishandled, and the Burgdale carles wept for pity of her, and for +wrath, as they straightened her limbs on the turf of the little +valley. They let her lie there a little, whilst they +searched round about, lest there should be any other poor soul +needing their help, or any felon lurking thereby; but they found +nought else save a bundle wherein was another rich gown and +divers woman’s gear, and sundry rings and jewels, and +therewithal the weapons and war-gear of a knight, delicately +wrought after the Westland fashion: these seemed to them to +betoken other foul deeds of these murder-carles. So when +they had abided a while, they laid the dead woman in mould by the +brook-side, and buried with her the other woman’s attire +and the knight’s gear, all but his sword and shield, which +they had away with them: then they cast the carcasses of the +felons into the brake, but brought away their weapons and the +silver rings from <a name="page194"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +194</span>their arms, which they wore like all the others of them +whom they had fallen in with; and so went on their way to the +north-east, full of wrath against those dastards of the +Earth.</p> +<p>It was hard on sunset when they left the valley of murder, and +they went no long way thence before they must needs make stay for +the night; and when they had arrayed their sleeping-stead the +moon was up, and they saw that before them lay the close wood +again, for they had made their lair on the top of a little +ridge.</p> +<p>There then they lay, and nought stirred them in the night, and +betimes on the morrow they were afoot, and entered the abovesaid +thicket, wherein two of them, keen hunters, had been aforetime, +but had not gone deep into it. Through this wood they went +all day toward the north-east, and met nought but the wild things +therein. At last, when it was near sunset, they came out of +the thicket into a small plain, or shallow dale rather, with no +great trees in it, but thorn-brakes here and there where the +ground sank into hollows; a little river ran through the midst of +it, and winded round about a height whose face toward the river +went down sheer into the water, but away from it sank down in a +long slope to where the thick wood began again: and this height +or burg looked well-nigh west.</p> +<p>Thitherward they went; but as they were drawing nigh to the +river, and were on the top of a bent above a bushy hollow between +them and the water, they espied a man standing in the river near +the bank, who saw them not, because he was stooping down intent +on something in the bank or under it: so they gat them speedily +down into the hollow without noise, that they might get some +tidings of the man.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god bade his men abide hidden under the bushes +and stole forward quietly up the further bank of the hollow, his +target on his arm and his spear poised. When he was behind +the last bush on the top of the bent he was within half a +spear-cast of the water and the man; so he looked on him and saw +that he was quite naked except for a clout about his middle.</p> +<p><a name="page195"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +195</span>Face-of-god saw at once that he was not one of the +Dusky Men; he was a black-haired man, but white-skinned, and of +fair stature, though not so tall as the Burgdale folk. He +was busied in tickling trouts, and just as Face-of-god came out +from the bush into the westering sunlight, he threw up a fish on +to the bank, and looked up therewithal, and beheld the weaponed +man glittering, and uttered a cry, but fled not when he saw the +spear poised for casting.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god spake to him and said: ‘Come hither, +Woodsman! we will not harm thee, but we desire speech of thee: +and it will not avail thee to flee, since I have bowmen of the +best in the hollow yonder.’</p> +<p>The man put forth his hands towards him as if praying him to +forbear casting, and looked at him hard, and then came dripping +from out the water, and seemed not greatly afeard; for he stooped +down and picked up the trouts he had taken, and came towards +Face-of-god stringing the last-caught one through the gills on to +the withy whereon were the others: and Face-of-god saw that he +was a goodly man of some thirty winters.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god looked on him with friendly eyes and +said:</p> +<p>‘Art thou a foemen? or wilt thou be helpful to +us?’</p> +<p>He answered in the speech of the kindreds with the hoarse +voice of a much weather-beaten man:</p> +<p>‘Thou seest, lord, that I am naked and +unarmed.’</p> +<p>‘Yet may’st thou bewray us,’ said +Face-of-god. ‘What man art thou?’</p> +<p>Said the man: ‘I am the runaway thrall of evil men; I +have fled from Rose-dale and the Dusky Men. Hast thou the +heart to hurt me?’</p> +<p>‘We are the foemen of the Dusky Men,’ said +Face-of-God; ‘wilt thou help us against them?’</p> +<p>The man knit his brows and said: ‘Yea, if ye will give +me your word not to suffer me to fall into their hands +alive. But whence art thou, to be so bold?’</p> +<p><a name="page196"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 196</span>Said +Face-of-god: ‘We are of Burgdale; and I will swear to thee +on the edge of the sword that thou shalt not fall alive into the +hands of the Dusky Men.’</p> +<p>‘Of Burgdale have I heard,’ said the man; +‘and in sooth thou seemest not such a man as would bewray a +hapless man. But now had I best bring you to some +lurking-place where ye shall not be easily found of these devils, +who now oft-times scour the woods hereabout.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Come first and see my fellows; and +then if thou thinkest we have need to hide, it is +well.’</p> +<p>So the man went side by side with him towards their lair, and +as they went Gold-mane noted marks of stripes on his back and +sides, and said: ‘Sorely hast thou been mishandled, poor +man!’</p> +<p>Then the man turned on him and said somewhat fiercely: +‘Said I not that I had been a thrall of the Dusky Men? how +then should I have escaped tormenting and scourging, if I had +been with them for but three days?’</p> +<p>As he spake they came about a thorn-bush, and there were the +Burgdale men down in the hollow; and the man said: ‘Are +these thy fellows? Call to mind that thou hast sworn by the +edge of the sword not to hurt me.’</p> +<p>‘Poor man!’ said Face-of-god; ‘these are thy +friends, unless thou bewrayest us.’</p> +<p>Then he cried aloud to his folk: ‘Here is now a good +hap! this is a runaway thrall of the Dusky Men; of him shall we +hear tidings; so cherish him all ye may.’</p> +<p>So the carles thronged about him and bestirred themselves to +help him, and one gave him his surcoat for a kirtle, and another +cast a cloak about him; and they brought him meat and drink, such +as they had ready to hand: and the man looked as if he scarce +believed in all this, but deemed himself to be in a dream. +But presently he turned to Face-of-god and said:</p> +<p>‘Now I see so many men and weapons I deem that ye have +no need to skulk in caves to-night, though I know of good ones: +<a name="page197"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 197</span>yet +shall ye do well not to light a fire till moon-setting; for the +flame ye may lightly hide, but the smoke may be seen from far +aloof.’</p> +<p>But they bade him to meat, and he needed no second bidding but +ate lustily, and they gave him wine, and he drank a great draught +and sighed as for joy. Then he said in a trembling voice, +as though he feared a naysay:</p> +<p>‘If ye are from Burgdale ye shall be faring back again +presently; and I pray you to take me with you.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Yea surely, friend, that will we do, +and rejoice in thee.’</p> +<p>Then he drank another cup which Warcliff held out to him, and +spake again: ‘Yet if ye would abide here till about noon +to-morrow, or mayhappen a little later, I would bring other +runaways to see you; and them also might ye take with you: ye may +think when ye see them that ye shall have small gain of their +company; for poor wretched folk they be, like to myself. +Yet since ye seek for tidings, herein might they do you more +service than I; for amongst them are some who came out of the +hapless Dale within this moon; and it is six months since I +escaped. Moreover, though they may look spent and outworn +now, yet if ye give them a little rest, and feed them well, they +shall yet do many a day’s work for you: and I tell you that +if ye take them for thralls, and put collars on their necks, and +use them no worse than a goodman useth his oxen and his asses, +beating them not save when they are idle or at fault, it shall be +to them as if they were come to heaven out of hell, and to such +goodhap as they have not thought of, save in dreams, for many and +many a day. And thus I entreat you to do because ye seem to +me to be happy and merciful men, who will not begrudge us this +happiness.’</p> +<p>The carles of Burgdale listened eagerly to what he said, and +they looked at him with great eyes and marvelled; and their +hearts were moved with pity towards him; and Stone-face said:</p> +<p><a name="page198"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +198</span>‘Herein, O War-leader, need I give thee no rede, +for thou mayst see clearly that all we deem that we should lose +our manhood and become the dastards of the Warrior if we did not +abide the coming of these poor men, and take them back to the +Dale, and cherish them.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Wolf of Whitegarth, ‘and great +thanks we owe to this man that he biddeth us this: for great will +be the gain to us if we become so like the Gods that we may +deliver the poor from misery. Now must I needs think how +they shall wonder when they come to Burgdale and find out how +happy it is to dwell there.’</p> +<p>‘Surely,’ said Face-of-god, ‘thus shall we +do, whatever cometh of it. But, friend of the wood, as to +thralls, there be none such in the Dale, but therein are all men +friends and neighbours, and even so shall ye be.’</p> +<p>And he fell a-musing, when he bethought him of how little he +had known of sorrow.</p> +<p>But that man, when he beheld the happy faces of the +Burgdalers, and hearkened to their friendly voices, and +understood what they said, and he also was become strong with the +meat and drink, he bowed his head adown and wept a long while; +and they meddled not with him, till he turned again to them and +said:</p> +<p>‘Since ye are in arms, and seem to be seeking your +foemen, I suppose ye wot that these tyrants and man-quellers will +fall upon you in Burgdale ere the summer is well worn.’</p> +<p>‘So much we deem indeed,’ said Face-of-god, +‘but we were fain to hear the certainty of it, and how thou +knowest thereof.’</p> +<p>Said the man: ‘It was six moons ago that I fled, as I +have told you; and even then it was the common talk amongst our +masters that there were fair dales to the south which they would +overrun. Man would say to man: We were over many in +Silver-dale, and we needed more thralls, because those we had +were lessening, and especially the women; now are we more at ease +<a name="page199"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 199</span>in +Rose-dale, though we have sent thralls to Silver-dale; but yet we +can bear no more men from thence to eat up our stock from us: let +them fare south to the happy dales, and conquer them, and we will +go with them and help therein, whether we come back to Rose-dale +or no. Such talk did I hear then with mine own ears: but +some of those whom I shall bring to you to-morrow shall know +better what is doing, since they have fled from Rose-dale but a +few days. Moreover, there is a man and a woman who have +fled from Silver-dale itself, and are but a month from it, +journeying all the time save when they must needs hide; and these +say that their masters have got to know the way to Burgdale, and +are minded for it before the winter, as I said; and nought else +but the ways thither do they desire to know, since they have no +fear.’</p> +<p>By then was night come, and though the moon was high in +heaven, and lighted all that waste, the Burgdalers must needs +light a fire for cooking their meat, whatsoever that woodsman +might say; moreover, the night was cold and somewhat +frosty. A little before they had come to that place they +had shot a fat buck and some smaller deer, but of other meat they +had no great store, though there was wine enough. So they +lit their fire in the thickest of the thorn-bush to hide it all +they might, and thereat they cooked their venison and the trouts +which the runaway had taken, and they fell to, and ate and drank +and were merry, making much of that poor man till him-seemed he +was gotten into the company of the kindest of the Gods.</p> +<p>But when they were full, Face-of-god spake to him, and asked +him his name; and he named himself Dallach; but said he: +‘Lord, this is according to the naming of men in Rose-dale +before we were enthralled: but now what names have thralls? +Also I am not altogether of the blood of them of Rose-dale, but +of better and more warrior-like kin.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Thou hast named Silver-dale; knowest +thou it?’</p> +<p><a name="page200"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +200</span>Dallach answered: ‘I have never seen it. It +is far hence; in a week’s journey, making all diligence, +and not being forced to hide and skulk like those runaways, ye +shall come to the mouth thereof lying west, where its rock-walls +fall off toward the plain.’</p> +<p>‘But,’ said Face-of-god, ‘is there no other +way into that Dale?’</p> +<p>‘Nay, none that folk wot of,’ said Dallach, +‘except to bold cragsmen with their lives in their +hands.’</p> +<p>‘Knowest thou aught of the affairs of +Silver-dale?’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>Said Dallach: ‘Somewhat I know: we wot that but a few +years ago there was a valiant folk dwelling therein, who were +lords of the whole dale, and that they were vanquished by the +Dusky Men: but whether they were all slain and enthralled we wot +not; but we deem it otherwise. As for me it is of their +blood that I am partly come; for my father’s father came +thence to settle in Rose-dale, and wedded a woman of the Dale, +who was my father’s mother.’</p> +<p>‘When was it that ye fell under the Dusky Men?’ +said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>Said Dallach: ‘It was five years ago. They came +into the Dale a great company, all in arms.’</p> +<p>‘Was there battle betwixt you?’ said +Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘Alas! not so,’ said Dallach. ‘We were +a happy folk there; but soft and delicate: for the Dale is +exceeding fertile, and beareth wealth in abundance, both corn and +oil and wine and fruit, and of beasts for man’s service the +best that may be. Would that there had been battle, and +that I had died therein with those that had a heart to fight; and +even so saith now every man, yea, every woman in the Dale. +But it was not so when the elders met in our Council-House on the +day when the Dusky Men bade us pay them tribute and give them +houses to dwell in and lands to live by. Then had we +weapons in our hands, but no hearts to use them.’</p> +<p><a name="page201"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +201</span>‘What befell then?’ said the goodman of +Whitegarth.</p> +<p>Said Dallach: ‘Look ye to it, lords, that it befall not +in Burgdale! We gave them all they asked for, and deemed we +had much left. What befell, sayst thou? We sat quiet; +we went about our work in fear and trembling, for grim and +hideous were they to look on. At first they meddled not +much with us, save to take from our houses what they would of +meat and drink, or raiment, or plenishing. And all this we +deemed we might bear, and that we needed no more than to toil a +little more each day so as to win somewhat more of wealth. +But soon we found that it would not be so; for they had no mind +to till the teeming earth or work in the acres we had given them, +or to sit at the loom, or hammer in the stithy, or do any manlike +work; it was we that must do all that for their behoof, and it +was altogether for them that we laboured, and nought for +ourselves; and our bodies were only so much our own as they were +needful to be kept alive for labour. Herein were our tasks +harder than the toil of any mules or asses, save for the younger +and goodlier of the women, whom they would keep fair and delicate +to be their bed-thralls.</p> +<p>‘Yet not even so were our bodies safe from their malice: +for these men were not only tyrants, but fools and madmen. +Let alone that there were few days without stripes and torments +to satiate their fury or their pleasure, so that in all streets +and nigh any house might you hear wailing and screaming and +groaning; but moreover, though a wise man would not willingly +slay his own thrall any more than his own horse or ox, yet did +these men so wax in folly and malice, that they would often hew +at man or woman as they met them in the way from mere grimness of +soul; and if they slew them it was well. Thereof indeed +came quarrels enough betwixt master and master, for they are much +given to man-slaying amongst themselves: but what profit to us +thereof? Nay, if the dead man were a chieftain, then woe +betide the thralls! for thereof must many an one be slain on his +grave-mound to serve him on the hell-road. To be short: we +have heard of men who be <a name="page202"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 202</span>fierce, and men who be grim; but +these we may scarce believe us to be men at all, but trolls +rather; and ill will it be if their race waxeth in the +world.’</p> +<p>The Burgdale men hearkened with all their ears, and wondered +that such things could befall; and they rejoiced at the work that +lay before them, and their hearts rose high at the thought of +battle in that behalf, and the fame that should come of it. +As for the runaway, they made so much of him that the man +marvelled; for they dealt with him like a woman cherishing a son, +and knew not how to be kind enough to him.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII. THE MEN OF BURGDALE MEET THE +RUNAWAYS.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> ere the night was far spent, +Dallach arose and said:</p> +<p>‘Kind folk, ye will presently be sleeping; but I bid you +keep a good watch, and if ye will be ruled by me, ye will kindle +no fire on the morrow, for the smoke riseth thick in the morning +air, and is as a beacon. As for me, I shall leave you here +to rest, and I myself will fare on mine errand.’</p> +<p>They bade him sleep and rest him after so many toils and +hardships, saying that they were not tied to an hour to be back +in Burgdale; but he said: ‘Nay, the moon is high, and it is +as good as daylight to me, who could find my way even by +starlight; and your tarrying here is nowise safe. Moreover, +if I could find those folk and bring them part of the way by +night and cloud it were well; for if we were taken again, burning +quick would be the best death by which we should die. As +for me, now am I strong with meat and drink and hope; and when I +come to Burgdale there will be time enough for resting and +slumber.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Shall I not wend with thee to see +these people and the lairs wherein they hide?’</p> +<p>The man smiled: ‘Nay, earl,’ said he, ‘that +shall not be. <a name="page203"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 203</span>For wot ye what? If they were +to see me in company of a man-at-arms they would deem that I was +bringing the foe upon them, and would flee, or mayhappen would +fall upon us. For as for me, when I saw thee, thou wert +close anigh me, so I knew thee to be no Dusky Man; but they would +see the glitter of thine arms from afar, and to them all weaponed +men are foemen. Thou, lord, knowest not the heart of a +thrall, nor the fear and doubt that is in it. Nay, I myself +must cast off these clothes that ye have given me, and fare +naked, lest they mistrust me. Only I will take a spear in +my hand, and sling a knife round my neck, if ye will give them to +me; for if the worst happen, I will not be taken +alive.’</p> +<p>Therewith he cast off his raiment, and they gave him the +weapons and wished him good speed, and he went his way twixt +moonlight and shadow; but the Burgdalers went to sleep when they +had set a watch.</p> +<p>Early in the morning they awoke, and the sun was shining and +the thrushes singing in the thorn-brake, and all seemed fair and +peaceful, and a little haze still hung about the face of the burg +over the river. So they went down to the water and washed +the night from off them; and thence the most part of them went +back to their lair among the thorn-bushes: but four of them went +up the dale into the oak-wood to shoot a buck, and five more they +sent out to watch their skirts around them; and Face-of-god with +old Stone-face went over a ford of the stream, and came on to the +lower slope of the burg, and so went up it to the top. +Thence they looked about to see if aught were stirring, but they +saw little save the waste and the wood, which on the north-east +was thick of big trees stretching out a long way. Their own +lair was clear to see over its bank and the bushes thereof, and +that misliked Face-of-god, lest any foe should climb the burg +that day. The morning was clear, and Face-of-god looking +north-and-by-west deemed he saw smoke rising into the air over +the tree-covered ridges that hid the further distance toward that +aírt, though further east uphove the black shoulders of +the Great that <a name="page204"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +204</span>Waste and the snowy peaks behind them. The said +smoke was not such as cometh from one great fire, but was like a +thin veil staining the pale blue sky, as when men are burning +ling on the heath-side and it is seen aloof.</p> +<p>He showed that smoke to Stone-face, who smiled and said:</p> +<p>‘Now will they be lighting the cooking fires in +Rose-dale: would I were there with a few hundreds of axes and +staves at my back!’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, smiling in his face, +‘but where I pray thee are these elves and wood-wights, +that we meet them not? Grim things there are in the woods, +and things fair enough also: but meseemeth that the trolls and +the elves of thy young years have been frighted away.’</p> +<p>Said Stone-face: ‘Maybe, foster-son; that hath been seen +ere now, that when one race of man overrunneth the land inhabited +by another, the wights and elves that love the vanquished are +seen no more, or get them away far off into the outermost wilds, +where few men ever come.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, ‘that may well +be. But deemest thou by that token that we shall be +vanquished?’</p> +<p>‘As for us, I know not,’ said Stone-face; +‘but thy friends of Shadowy Vale have been +vanquished. Moreover, concerning these felons whom now we +are hunting, are we all so sure that they be men? Certain +it is, that when I go into battle with them, I shall smite with +no more pity than my sword, as if I were smiting things that may +not feel the woes of man.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Yea, even so shall it be with +me. But what thinkest thou of these runaways? Shall +we have tidings of them, or shall Dallach bring the foe upon +us? It was for the sake of that question that I have clomb +the burg: and that we might watch the land about us.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Stone-face, ‘I have seen many +men, and I deem of Dallach that he is a true man. I deem we +shall soon have tidings of his fellows; and they may have seen +the elves and wood-wights: I would fain ask them thereof, and am +eager to see them.’</p> +<p><a name="page205"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 205</span>Said +Face-of-god: ‘And I somewhat dread to see them, and their +rags and their misery and the weals of their stripes. It +irked me to see Dallach when he first fell to his meat last +night, how he ate like a dog for fear and famine. How shall +it be, moreover, when we have them in the Dale, and they fall to +the deed of kind there, as they needs must. Will they not +bear us evil and thrall-like men?’</p> +<p>‘Maybe,’ said Stone-face, ‘and maybe not; +for they have been thralls but for a little while: and I deem +that in no long time shall ye see them much bettered by plenteous +meat and rest. And after all is said, this Dallach bore him +like a valiant man; also it was valiant of him to flee; and of +the others may ye say the like. But look you! there are men +going down yonder towards our lair: belike those shall be our +guests, and there be no Dusky Men amongst them. Come, let +us home!’</p> +<p>So Face-of-god looked and beheld from the height of the burg +shapes of men grey and colourless creeping toward the lair from +sunshine to shadow, like wild creatures shy and fearful of the +hunter, or so he deemed of them.</p> +<p>So he turned away, angry and sad of heart, and the twain went +down the burg and across the water to their camp, having seen +little to tell of from the height.</p> +<p>When they came to their campment there were their folk +standing in a ring round about Dallach and the other +runaways. They made way for the War-leader and Stone-face, +who came amongst them and beheld the Runaways, that they were +many more than they looked to see; for they were of carles one +score and three, and of women eighteen, all told save +Dallach. When they saw those twain come through the ring of +men and perceived that they were chieftains, some of them fell +down on their knees before them and held out their joined hands +to them, and kissed the Burgdalers’ feet and the hems of +their garments, while the tears streamed out of their eyes: some +stood moving little and staring before them stupidly: and some +kept glancing from face to face of the well-liking <a +name="page206"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 206</span>happy +Burgdale carles, though for a while even their faces were sad and +downcast at the sight of the poor men: some also kept murmuring +one or two words in their country tongue, and Dallach told +Face-of-god that these were crying out for victual.</p> +<p>It must be said of these poor folk that they were of divers +conditions, and chiefly of three: and first there were seven of +Rose-dale and five of Silver-dale late come to the wood (of these +Silver-dalers Dallach had told but of two, for the other three +were but just come). Of these twelve were seven women, and +all, save two of the women, were clad in one scanty kirtle or +shirt only; for such was the wont of the Dusky Men with their +thralls. They had brought away weapons, and had amongst +them six axes and a spear, and a sword, and five knives, and one +man had a shield.</p> +<p>Yet though these were clad and armed, yet in some wise were +they the worst of all; they were so timorous and cringing, and +most of them heavy-eyed and sullen and down-looking. Many +of them had been grievously mishandled: one man had had his left +hand smitten off; another was docked of three of his toes, and +the gristle of his nose slit up; one was halt, and four had been +ear-cropped, nor did any lack weals of whipping. Of the +Silver-dale new-comers the three men were the worst of all the +Runaways, with wild wandering eyes, but sullen also, and cringing +if any drew nigh, and would not look anyone in the face, save +presently Face-of-god, on whom they were soon fond to fawn, as a +dog on his master. But the women who were with them, and +who were well-nigh as timorous as the men, were those two +gaily-dad ones, and they were soft-handed and white-skinned, save +for the last days of weather in the wood; for they had been +bed-thralls of the Dusky Men.</p> +<p>Such were the new-comers to the wood. But others had +been, like Dallach, months therein; it may be said that there +were eighteen of these, carles and queens together. Little +raiment they had amongst them, and some were all but stark naked, +so that on these might well be seen as on Dallach the marks of +old <a name="page207"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +207</span>stripes, and of these also were there men who had been +shorn of some member or other, and they were all burnt and +blackened by the weather of the woodland; yet for all their +nakedness, they bore themselves bolder and more manlike than the +later comers, nor did they altogether lack weapons taken from +their foemen, and most of them had some edge-tool or +another. Of these folk were four from Silver-dale, though +Dallach knew it not.</p> +<p>Besides these were a half score and one who had been years in +the wood instead of months; weather-beaten indeed were these, +shaggy and rough-skinned like wild men of kind. Some of +them had made themselves skin breeches or clouts, some went stark +naked; of weapons of the Dale had they few, but they bore bows of +hazel or wych-elm strung with deer-gut, and shafts headed with +flint stones; staves also of the same fashion, and great clubs of +oak or holly: some of them also had made them targets of skin and +willow-twigs, for these were the warriors of the Runaways: they +had a few steel knives amongst them, but had mostly learned the +craft of using sharp flints for knives: but four of these were +women.</p> +<p>Three of these men were of the kindreds of the Wolf from +Silver-dale, and had been in the wood for hard upon ten years, +and wild as they were, and without hope of meeting their fellows +again, they went proudly and boldly amongst the others, +overtopping them by the head and more. For the greater part +of these men were somewhat short of stature, though by nature +strong and stout of body.</p> +<p>It must be told that though Dallach had thus gotten all these +many Runaways together, yet had they not been dwelling together +as one folk; for they durst not, lest the Dusky Men should hear +thereof and fall upon them, but they had kept themselves as best +they could in caves and in brakes three together or two, or even +faring alone as Dallach did: only as he was a strong and +stout-hearted man, he went to and fro and wandered about more +than the others, so that he foregathered <a +name="page208"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 208</span>with most +of them and knew them. He said also that he doubted not but +that there were more Runaways in the wood, but these were all he +could come at. Divers who had fled had died from time to +time, and some had been caught and cruelly slain by their +masters. They were none of them old; the oldest, said +Dallach, scant of forty winters, though many from their aspect +might have been old enough.</p> +<p>So Face-of-god looked and beheld all these poor people; and +said to himself, that he might well have dreaded that +sight. For here was he brought face to face with the Sorrow +of the Earth, whereof he had known nought heretofore, save it +might be as a tale in a minstrel’s song. And when he +thought of the minutes that had made the hours, and the hours +that had made the days that these men had passed through, his +heart failed him, and he was dumb and might not speak, though he +perceived that the men of Burgdale looked for speech from him; +but he waved his hand to his folk, and they understood him, for +they had heard Dallach say that some of them were crying for +victual. So they set to work and dighted for them such meat +as they had, and they set them down on the grass and made +themselves their carvers and serving-men, and bade them eat what +they would of such as there was. Yet, indeed, it grieved +the Burgdalers again to note how these folk were driven to eat; +for they themselves, though they were merry folk, were exceeding +courteous at table, and of great observance of manners: whereas +these poor Runaways ate, some of them like hungry dogs, and some +hiding their meat as if they feared it should be taken from them, +and some cowering over it like falcons, and scarce any with a +manlike pleasure in their meal. And, their eating over, the +more part of them sat dull and mopish, and as if all things were +forgotten for the time present.</p> +<p>Albeit presently Dallach bestirred him and said to +Face-of-god: ‘Lord of the Earl-folk, if I might give thee +rede, it were best to turn your faces to Burgdale without more +tarrying. For we are over-nigh to Rose-dale, being but thus +many in company. <a name="page209"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 209</span>But when we come to our next +resting-place, then shall bring thee to speech with the +last-comers from Silver-dale; for there they talk with the tongue +of the kindreds; but we of Rose-dale for the more part talk +otherwise; though in my house it came down from father to +son.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, gazing still on that +unhappy folk, as they sat or lay upon the grass at rest for a +little while: but him-seemed as he gazed that some memories of +past time stirred in some of them; for some, they hung their +heads and the tears stole out of their eyes and rolled down their +cheeks. But those older Runaways of Silver-dale were not +crouched down like most of the others, but strode up and down +like beasts in a den; yet were the tears on the face of one of +these. Then Face-of-god constrained himself, and spake to +the folk, and said: ‘We are now over-nigh to our foes of +Rose-dale to lie here any longer, being too few to fall upon +them. We will come hither again with a host when we have +duly questioned these men who have sought refuge with us: and let +us call yonder height the Burg of the Runaways, and it shall be a +landmark for us when we are on the road to Rose-dale.’</p> +<p>Then the Burgdalers bade the Runaways courteously and kindly +to arise and take the road with them; and by that time were their +men all come in; and four of them had venison with them, which +was needful, if they were to eat that night or the morrow, as the +guests had eaten them to the bone.</p> +<p>So they tarried no more, but set out on the homeward way; and +Face-of-god bade Dallach walk beside him, and asked him such +concerning Rose-dale and its Dusky Men. Dallach told him +that these were not so many as they were masterful, not being +above eight hundreds of men, all fighting-men. As to women, +they had none of their own race, but lay with the Daleswomen at +their will, and begat children of them; and all or most of the +said children favoured the race of their begetters. Of the +men-children they reared most, but the women-children they slew +at once; for <a name="page210"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +210</span>they valued not women of their own blood: but besides +the women of the Dale, they would go at whiles in bands to the +edges of the Plain and beguile wayfarers, and bring back with +them thence women to be their bed-thralls; albeit some of these +were bought with a price from the Westland men.</p> +<p>As to the number of the folk of Rose-dale, its own folk, he +said they would number some five thousand souls, one with +another; of whom some thousand might be fit to bear arms if they +had the heart thereto, as they had none. Yet being closely +questioned, he deemed that they might fall on their masters from +behind, if battle were joined.</p> +<p>He said that the folk of Rose-dale had been a goodly folk +before they were enthralled, and peaceable with one another, but +that now it was a sport of the Dusky Men to set a match between +their thralls to fight it out with sword and buckler or +otherwise; and the vanquished man, if he were not sore hurt, they +would scourge, or shear some member from him, or even slay him +outright, if the match between the owners were so made. And +many other sad and grievous tales he told to Face-of-god, more +than need be told again; so that the War-leader went along sorry +and angry, with his teeth set, and his hand on the +sword-hilt.</p> +<p>Thus they went till night fell on them, and they could scarce +see the signs they had made on their outward journey. Then +they made stay in a little valley, having set a watch duly; and +since they were by this time far from Rose-dale, and were a great +company as regarded scattered bands of the foe, they lighted +their fires and cooked their venison, and made good cheer to the +Runaways, and so went to sleep in the wild-wood.</p> +<p>When morning was come they gat them at once to the road; and +if the Burgdalers were eager to be out of the wood, their +eagerness was as nought to the eagerness of the Runaways, most of +whom could not be easy now, and deemed every minute lost unless +they were wending on to the Dale; so that this day they <a +name="page211"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 211</span>were +willing to get over the more ground, whereas they had not set out +on their road till afternoon yesterday.</p> +<p>Howsoever, they rested at noontide, and Face-of-god bade +Dallach bring him to speech with others of the Runaways, and +first that he might talk with those three men of the kindreds who +had fled from Silver-dale in early days. So Dallach brought +them to him; but he found that though they spake the tongue, they +were so few-spoken from wildness and loneliness, at least at +first, that nought could come from them that was not dragged from +them.</p> +<p>These men said that they had been in the wood more than nine +years, so that they knew but little of the conditions of the Dale +in that present day. However, as to what Dallach had said +concerning the Dusky Men, they strengthened his words; and they +said that the Dusky Men took no delight save in beholding +torments and misery, and that they doubted if they were men or +trolls. They said that since they had dwelt in the wood +they had slain not a few of the foemen, waylaying them as +occasion served, but that in this warfare they had lost two of +their fellows. When Face-of-god asked them of their deeming +of the numbers of the Dusky Men, they said that before those +bands had broken into Rose-dale, they counted them, as far as +they could call to mind, at about three thousand men, all +warriors; and that somewhat less than one thousand had gone up +into Rose-dale, and some had died, and many had been cast away in +the wild-wood, their fellows knew not how. Yet had not +their numbers in Silver-dale diminished; because two years after +they (the speakers) had fled, came three more Dusky Companies or +Tribes into Silver-dale, and each of these tribes was of three +long hundreds; and with their coming had the cruelty and misery +much increased in the Dale, so that the thralls began to die +fast; and that drave the Dusky Men beyond the borders of +Silver-dale, so that they fell upon Rose-dale. When asked +how many of the kindreds might yet be abiding in Silver-dale, +their faces clouded, and they seemed exceeding wroth, and +answered, that they would willingly hope <a +name="page212"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 212</span>that most +of those that had not been slain at the time of the overthrow +were now dead, yet indeed they feared there were yet some alive, +and mayhappen not a few women.</p> +<p>By then must they get on foot again, and so the talk fell +between them; but when they made stay for the night, after they +had done their meat, Face-of-god prayed Dallach bring to him some +of the latest-come folk from Silver-dale, and he brought to him +the man and the woman who had been in the Dale within that +moon. As to the man, if those of the Earl-folk had been +few-spoken from fierceness and wildness, he was no less so from +mere dulness and weariness of misery; but the woman’s +tongue went glibly enough, and it seemed to pleasure her to talk +about her past miseries. As aforesaid, she was better clad +than most of those of Rose-dale, and indeed might be called gaily +clad, and where her raiment was befouled or rent, it was from the +roughness of the wood and its weather, and not from the +thralldom. She was a young and fair woman, black-haired and +grey-eyed. She had washed herself that day in a woodland +stream which they had crossed on the road, and had arrayed her +garments as trimly as she might, and had plucked some fumitory, +wherewith she had made a garland for her head. She sat down +on the grass in front of Face-of-god, while the man her mate +stood leaning against a tree and looked on her greedily. +The Burgdale carles drew near to her to hearken her story, and +looked kindly on the twain. She smiled on them, but +especially on Face-of-god, and said:</p> +<p>‘Thou hast sent for me, lord, and I wot well thou +wouldst hear my tale shortly, for it would be long to tell if I +were to tell it fully, and bring into it all that I have endured, +which has been bitter enough, for all that ye see me smooth of +skin and well-liking of body. I have been the bed-thrall of +one of the chieftains of the Dusky Men, at whose house many of +their great men would assemble, so that ye may ask me whatso ye +will; as I have heard much talk and may call it to mind. +Now if ye ask me whether I have fled because of the shame that I, +a free woman <a name="page213"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +213</span>come of free folk, should be a mere thrall in the bed +of the foes of my kin, and with no price paid for me, I must +needs say it is not so; since over long have we of the Dale been +thralls to be ashamed of such a matter. And again, if ye +deem that I have fled because I have been burdened with grievous +toil and been driven thereto by the whip, ye may look on my hands +and my body and ye will see that I have toiled little therewith: +nor again did I flee because I could not endure a few stripes now +and again; for such usage do thralls look for, even when they are +delicately kept for the sake of the fairness of their bodies, and +this they may well endure; yea also, and the mere fear of death +by torment now and again. But before me lay death both +assured and horrible; so I took mine own counsel, and told none +for fear of bewrayal, save him who guarded me; and that was this +man; who fled not from fear, but from love of me, and to him I +have given all that I might give. So we got out of the +house and down the Dale by night and cloud, and hid for one whole +day in the Dale itself, where I trembled and feared, so that I +deemed I should die of fear; but this man was well pleased with +my company, and with the lack of toil and beating even for the +day. And in the night again we fled and reached the +wild-wood before dawn, and well-nigh fell into the hands of those +who were hunting us, and had outgone us the day before, as we lay +hid. Well, what is to say? They saw us not, else had +we not been here, but scattered piece-meal over the land. +This carle knew the passes of the wood, because he had followed +his master therein, who was a great hunter in the wastes, +contrary to the wont of these men, and he had lain a night on the +burg yonder; therefore he brought me thither, because he knew +that thereabout was plenty of prey easy to take, and he had a bow +with him; and there we fell in with others of our folk who had +fled before, and with Dallach; who e’en now told us what +was hard to believe, that there was a fair young man like one of +the Gods leading a band of goodly warriors, and seeking for us to +bring us into a peaceful and happy land; and this man would <a +name="page214"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 214</span>not have +gone with him because he feared that he might fall into thralldom +of other folk, who would take me away from him; but for me, I +said I would go in any case, for I was weary of the wood and its +roughness and toil, and that if I had a new master he would +scarcely be worse than my old one was at his best, and him I +could endure. So I went, and glad and glad I am, whatever +ye will do with me. And now will I answer whatso ye may ask +of me.’</p> +<p>She laid her limbs together daintily and looked fondly on +Face-of-god, and the carle scowled at her somewhat at first, but +presently, as he watched her, his face smoothed itself out of its +wrinkles.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god pondered a little while, and then asked the +woman if she had heard any words to remember of late days +concerning the affairs of the Dusky Men and their intent; and he +said:</p> +<p>‘I pray thee, sister, be truthful in thine answer, for +somewhat lieth on it.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘How could I speak aught but the sooth to +thee, O lovely lord? The last word spoken hereof I mind me +well: for my master had been mishandling me, and I was sullen to +him after the smart, and he mocked and jeered me, and said: Ye +women deem we cannot do without you, but ye are fools, and know +nothing; we are going to conquer a new land where the women are +plenty, and far fairer than ye be; and we shall leave you to fare +afield like the other thralls, or work in the digging of silver; +and belike ye wot what that meaneth. Also he said that they +would leave us to the new tribe of their folk, far wilder than +they, whom they looked for in the Dale in about a moon’s +wearing; so that they needs must seek to other lands. Also +this same talk would we hear whenever it pleased any of them to +mock us their bed-thralls. Now, my sweet lord, this is +nought but the very sooth.’</p> +<p>Again spake Face-of-god after a while:</p> +<p>‘Tell me, sister, hast thou heard of any of the Dusky +Men being slain in the wood?’</p> +<p><a name="page215"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +215</span>‘Yea,’ she said, and turned pale therewith +and caught her breath as one choking; but said in a little +while:</p> +<p>‘This alone was it hard for me to tell thee amongst all +the I griefs I have borne, whereof I might have told thee many +tales, and will do one day if thou wilt suffer it; but fear makes +this hard for me. For in very sooth this was the cause of +my fleeing, that my master was brought in slain by an arrow in +the wood; and he was to be borne to bale and burned in three +days’ wearing; and we three bed-thralls of his, and three +of the best of the men-thralls, were to be burned quick on his +bale-fire after sore torments; therefore I fled, and hid a knife +in my bosom, that I might not be taken alive; but sweet was life +to me, and belike I should not have smitten myself.’</p> +<p>And she wept sore for pity of herself before them all. +But Face-of-god said:</p> +<p>‘Knowest thou, sister, by whom the man was +slain?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, still sobbing; ‘but I heard +nought thereof, nor had I noted it in my terror. The death +of others, who were slain before him, and the loss of many, we +knew not how, made them more bitterly cruel with us.’</p> +<p>And again was she weeping; but Face-of-god said kindly to her: +‘Weep no more, sister, for now shall all thy troubles be +over; I feel in my heart that we shall overcome these felons, and +make an end of them, and there then is Burgdale for thee in its +length and breadth, or thine own Dale to dwell in +freely.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘never will I go back +thither!’ and she turned round to him and kissed his feet, +and then arose and turned a little toward her mate; and the carle +caught her by the hand and led her away, and seemed glad so to +do.</p> +<p>So once again they fell asleep in the woods, and again the +next morning fared on their way early that they might come into +Burgdale before nightfall. When they stayed a while at +noontide and ate, Face-of-god again had talk with the Runaways, +and this time with those of Rose-dale, and he heard much the same +story <a name="page216"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +216</span>from them that he had heard before, told in divers +ways, till his heart was sick with the hearing of it.</p> +<p>On this last day Face-of-god led his men well athwart the +wood, so that he hit Wildlake’s Way without coming to +Carl-stead; and he came down into the Dale some four hours after +noon on a bright day of latter March. At the ingate to the +Dale he found watches set, the men whereof told him that the +tidings were not right great. Hall-face’s company had +fallen in with a band of the Felons three score in number in the +oak-wood nigh to Boars-bait, and had slain some and chased the +rest, since they found it hard to follow them home as they ran +for the tangled thicket: of the Burgdalers had two been slain and +five hurt in this battle.</p> +<p>As for Red-coat’s company, they had fallen in with no +foemen.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX. THEY BRING THE RUNAWAYS TO +BURGSTEAD.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">So</span> now being out of the wood, they +went peaceably and safely along the Portway, the Runaways +mingling with the Dalesmen. Strange showed amidst the +health and wealth of the Dale the rags and misery and nakedness +of the thralls, like a dream amidst the trim gaiety of spring; +and whomsoever they met, or came up with on the road, whatso his +business might be, could not refrain himself from following them, +but mingled with the men-at-arms, and asked them of the tidings; +and when they heard who these poor people were, even delivered +thralls of the Foemen, they were glad at heart and cried out for +joy; and many of the women, nay, of the men also, when they first +came across that misery from out the heart of their own pleasant +life, wept for pity and love of the poor folk, now at last set +free, and blessed the swords that should do the like by the whole +people.</p> +<p>They went slowly as men began to gather about them; yea, <a +name="page217"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 217</span>some of the +good folk that lived hard by must needs fare home to their houses +to fetch cakes and wine for the guests; and they made them sit +down and rest on the green grass by the side of the Portway, and +eat and drink to cheer their hearts; others, women and young +swains, while they rested went down into the meadows and plucked +of the spring flowers, and twined them hastily with deft and +well-wont fingers into chaplets and garlands for their heads and +bodies. Thus indeed they covered their nakedness, till the +lowering faces and weather-beaten skins of those hardly-entreated +thralls looked grimly out from amidst the knots of cowslip and +oxlip, and the branches of the milk-white blackthorn bloom, and +the long trumpets of the daffodils, of the hue that wrappeth +round the quill which the webster takes in hand when she would +pleasure her soul with the sight of the yellow growing upon the +dark green web.</p> +<p>So they went on again as the evening was waning, and when they +were gotten within a furlong of the Gate, lo! there was come the +minstrelsy, the pipe and the tabor, the fiddle and the harp, and +the folk that had learned to sing the sweetest, both men and +women, and Redesman at the head of them all.</p> +<p>Then fell the throng into an ordered company; first went the +music, and then a score of Face-of-god’s warriors with +drawn swords and uplifted spears; and then the flower-bedecked +misery of the Runaways, men and women going together, gaunt, +befouled, and hollow-eyed, with here and there a flushed cheek or +gleaming eye, or tear-bedewed face, as the joy and triumph of the +eve pierced through their wonted weariness of grief; then the +rest of the warriors, and lastly the mingled crowd of Dalesfolk, +tall men and fair women gaily arrayed, clean-faced, +clear-skinned, and sleek-haired, with glancing eyes and ruddy +lips.</p> +<p>And now Redesman turned about to the music and drew his bow +across his fiddle, and the other bows ran out in concert, and the +harps followed the story of them, and he lifted up his voice and +sang the words of an old song, and all the singers joined him <a +name="page218"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 218</span>and blended +their voices with his. And these are some of the words +which they sang:</p> +<p class="poetry">Lo! here is Spring, and all we are living,<br +/> + We that were wan with Winter’s fear;<br /> +Reach out your hands to her hands that are giving,<br /> + Lest ye lose her love and the light of the year.</p> +<p class="poetry">Many a morn did we wake to sorrow,<br /> + When low on the land the cloud-wrath lay;<br /> +Many an eve we feared to-morrow,<br /> + The unbegun unfinished day.</p> +<p class="poetry">Ah we—we hoped not, and thou wert +tardy;<br /> + Nought wert thou helping; nought we prayed.<br /> +Where was the eager heart, the hardy?<br /> + Where was the sweet-voiced unafraid?</p> +<p class="poetry">But now thou lovest, now thou leadest,<br /> + Where is gone the grief of our minds?<br /> +What was the word of the tale, that thou heedest<br /> + E’en as the breath of the bygone winds?</p> +<p class="poetry">Green and green is thy garment growing<br /> + Over thy blossoming limbs beneath;<br /> +Up o’er our feet rise the blades of thy sowing,<br /> + Pierced are our hearts with thine odorous +breath.</p> +<p class="poetry">But where art thou wending, thou new-comer?<br +/> + Hurrying on to the Courts of the Sun?<br /> +Where art thou now in the House of the Summer?<br /> + Told are thy days and thy deed is done.</p> +<p class="poetry">Spring has been here for us that are living<br +/> + After the days of Winter’s fear;<br /> +<a name="page219"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 219</span>Here in +our hands is the wealth of her giving,<br /> + The Love of the Earth, and the Light of the +Year.</p> +<p>Thus came they to the Gate, and lo! the Bride thereby, leaning +against a buttress, gazing with no dull eyes at the coming +throng. She was now clad in her woman’s attire again, +to wit a light flame-coloured gown over a green kirtle; but she +yet bore a gilded helm on her head and a sword girt to her side +in token of her oath to the God. She had been in +Hall-face’s company in that last battle, and had done a +man’s service there, fighting very valiantly, but had not +been hurt, and had come back to Burgstead when the shift of men +was.</p> +<p>Now she drew herself up and stood a little way before the Gate +and looked forth on the throng, and when her eyes beheld the +Runaways amidst of the weaponed carles of Burgdale, her face +flushed, and her eyes filled with tears as she stood, partly +wondering, partly deeming what they were. She waited till +Stone-face came by her, and then she took the old man by the +sleeve, and drew him apart a little and said to him: ‘What +meaneth this show, my friend? Who hath clad these folk thus +strangely; and who be these three naked tall ones, so +fierce-looking, but somewhat noble of aspect?’</p> +<p>For indeed those three men of the kindreds, when they had +gotten into the Dale, and had rested them, and drunk a cup of +wine, and when they had seen the chaplets and wreaths of the +spring-flowers wherewith they were bedecked, and had smelt the +sweet savour of them, fell to walking proudly, heeding not their +nakedness; for no rag had they upon them save breech-clouts of +deer-skin: they had changed weapons with the Burgdale carles; and +one had gotten a great axe, which he bore over his shoulder, and +the shaft thereof was all done about with copper; and another had +shouldered a long heavy thrusting-spear, and the third, an +exceeding tall man, bore a long broad-bladed war-sword. +Thus they went, brown of skin beneath their flower-garlands, +their long hair <a name="page220"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +220</span>bleached by the sun falling about their shoulders; high +they strode amongst the shuffling carles and tripping women of +the later-come thralls. But when they heard the music, and +saw that they were coming to the Gate in triumph, strange +thoughts of old memories swelled up in their hearts, and they +refrained them not from weeping, for they felt that the joy of +life had come back to them.</p> +<p>Nor must it be deemed that these were the only ones amongst +the Runaways whose hearts were cheered and softened: already were +many of them coming back to life, as they felt their worn bodies +caressed by the clear soft air of Burgdale, and the sweetness of +the flowers that hung about them, and saw all round about the +kind and happy faces of their well-willers.</p> +<p>So Stone-face looked on the Bride as she stood with face yet +tear-bedewed, awaiting his answer, and said:</p> +<p>‘Daughter, thou sayest who clad these folk thus? +It was misery that hath so dight them; and they are the images of +what we shall be if we love foul life better than fair death, and +so fall into the hands of the Felons, who were the masters of +these men. As for the tall naked men, they are of our own +blood, and kinsmen to Face-of-god’s new friends; and they +are of the best of the vanquished: it was in early days that they +fled from thralldom; as we may have to do. Now, daughter, I +bid thee be as joyous as thou art valiant, and then shall all be +well.’</p> +<p>Therewith she smiled on him, and he departed, and she stood a +little while, as the throng moved on and was swallowed by the +Gate, and looked after them; and for all her pity for the other +folk, she thought chiefly of those fearless tall men who were of +the blood of those with whom it was lawful to wed.</p> +<p>There she stood as the wind dried the tears upon her cheeks, +thinking of the sorrow which these folk had endured, and their +stripes and mocking, their squalor and famine; and she wondered +and looked on her own fair and shapely hands with the precious +finger-rings thereon, and on the dainty cloth and trim broidery +of her sleeve; and she touched her smooth cheek with the back <a +name="page221"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 221</span>of her +hand, and smiled, and felt the spring sweet in her mouth, and its +savour goodly in her nostrils; and therewith she called to mind +the aspect of her lovely body, as whiles she had seen it imaged, +all its full measure, in the clear pool at midsummer, or +piece-meal, in the shining steel of the Westland mirror. +She thought also with what joy she drew the breath of life, yea, +even amidst of grief, and of how sweet and pure and well-nurtured +she was, and how well beloved of many friends and the whole folk, +and she set all this beside those woeful bodies and lowering +faces, and felt shame of her sorrow of heart, and the pain it had +brought to her; and ever amidst shame and pity of all that misery +rose up before her the images of those tall fierce men, and it +seemed to her as if she had seen something like to them in some +dream or imagination of her mind.</p> +<p>So came the Burgdalers and their guests into the street of +Burgstead amidst music and singing; and the throng was great +there. Then Face-of-god bade make a ring about the +strangers, and they did so, and he and the Runaways alone were in +the midst of it; and he spake in a loud voice and said:</p> +<p>‘Men of the Dale and the Burg, these folk whom here ye +see in such a sorry plight are they whom our deadly foes have +rejoiced to torment; let us therefore rejoice to cherish +them. Now let those men come forth who deem that they have +enough and more, so that they may each take into their houses +some two or three of these friends such as would be fain to be +together. And since I am War-leader, and have the right +hereto, I will first choose them whom I will lead into the House +of the Face. And lo you! will I have this man (and he laid +his hand on Dallach),who is he whom I first came across, and who +found us all these others, and next I will have yonder tall +carles, the three of them, because I perceive them to be men meet +to be with a War-leader, and to follow him in battle.’</p> +<p>Therewith he drew the three Men of the Wolf towards him, but +Dallach already was standing beside him. And folk rejoiced +in Face-of-god.</p> +<p><a name="page222"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 222</span>But +the Bride came forward next, and spake to him meekly and +simply:</p> +<p>‘War-leader, let me have of the women those who need me +most, that I may bring them to the House of the Steer, and try if +there be not some good days yet to be found for them, wherein +they shall but remember the past grief as an ugly +dream.’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god looked on her, and him-seemed he had never +seen her so fair; and all the shame wherewith he had beheld her +of late was gone from him, and his heart ran over with friendly +love towards her as she looked into his face with kindly eyes; +and he said:</p> +<p>‘Kinswoman, take thy choice as thy kindness biddeth, and +happy shall they be whom thou choosest.’</p> +<p>She bowed her head soberly, and chose from among the guests +four women of the saddest and most grievous, and no man of their +kindred spake for going along with them; then she went her ways +home, leading one of them by the hand, and strange was it to see +those twain going through sun and shade together, that poor +wretch along with the goodliest of women.</p> +<p>Then came forward one after other of the worthy goodmen of the +Dale, and especially such as were old, and they led away one one +man, and another two, and another three, and often would a man +crave to go with a woman or a woman with a man, and it was not +gainsaid them. So were all the guests apportioned, and +ill-content were those goodmen that had to depart without a +guest; and one man would say to another: ‘Such-an-one, be +not downcast; this guest shall be between us, if he will, and +shall dwell with thee and me month about; but this first month +with me, since I was first comer.’ And so forth was +it said.</p> +<p>Now to prevent the time to come, it may be said about the +Runaways, that when they had been a little while amongst the +Burgdalers, well fed and well clad and kindly cherished, it was +marvellous how they were bettered in aspect of body, and it began +<a name="page223"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 223</span>to be +seen of them that they were well-favoured people, and divers of +the women exceeding goodly, black-haired and grey-eyed, and very +clear-skinned and white-skinned; most of them were young, and the +oldest had not seen above forty winters. They of Rose-dale, +and especially such as had first fled away to the wood, were very +soon seen to be merry and kindly folk; but they who had been +longest in captivity, and notably those from Silver-dale who were +not of the kindreds, were for a long time sullen and heavy, and +it availed little to trust to them for the doing of work; albeit +they would follow about their friends of Burgdale with the love +of a dog; also they were, divers of them, somewhat thievish, and +if they lacked anything would liefer take it by stealth than ask +for it; which forsooth the Burgdale men took not amiss, but +deemed of it as a jest rather.</p> +<p>Very few of the Runaways had any will to fare back to their +old homes, or indeed could be got to go into the wood, or, after +a day or two, to say any word of Rose-dale or Silver-dale. +In this and other matters the Burgdalers dealt with them as with +children who must have their way; for they deemed that their +guests had much time to make up; also they were well content when +they saw how goodly they were, for these Dalesmen loved to see +men goodly of body and of a cheerful countenance.</p> +<p>As for Dallach and the three Silver-dale men of the kindred, +they went gladly whereas the Burgdale men would have them; and +half a score others took weapons in their hands when the war was +foughten: concerning which more hereafter.</p> +<p>But on the even whereof the tale now tells, Face-of-god and +Stone-face and their company met after nightfall in the Hall of +the Face clad in glorious raiment, and therewith were Dallach and +the men of Silver-dale, washen and docked of their long hair, +after the fashion of warriors who bear the helm; and they were +clad in gay attire, with battle-swords girt to their sides and +gold rings on their arms. Somewhat stern and sad-eyed were +those Silver-dalers yet, though they looked on those about them +kindly <a name="page224"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +224</span>and courteously when they met their eyes; and +Face-of-god yearned towards them when he called to mind the +beauty and wisdom and loving-kindness of the Sun-beam. They +were, as aforesaid, strong men and tall, and one of them taller +than any amidst that house of tall men. Their names were +Wolf-stone, the tallest, and God-swain, and Spear-fist; and +God-swain the youngest was of thirty winters, and Wolf-stone of +forty. They came into the Hall in such wise, that when they +were washed and attired, and all men were assembled in the Hall, +and the Alderman and the chieftains sitting on the daïs, +Face-of-god brought them in from the out-bower, holding Dallach +by the right hand and Wolf-stone by the left; and he looked but a +stripling beside that huge man.</p> +<p>And when the men in the Hall beheld such goodly warriors, and +remembered their grief late past, they all stood up and shouted +for joy of them. But Face-of-god passed up the Hall with +them, and stood before the daïs and said:</p> +<p>‘O Alderman of the Dale and Chief of the House of the +Face, here I bring to you the foes of our foemen, whom I have met +in the Wild-wood, and bidden to our House; and meseemeth they +will be our friends, and stand beside us in the day of +battle. Therefore I say, take these guests and me together, +or put us all to the door together; and if thou wilt take them, +then show them to such places as thou deemest meet.’</p> +<p>Then stood up the Alderman and said:</p> +<p>‘Men of Silver-dale and Rose-dale, I bid you +welcome! Be ye our friends, and abide here with us as long +as seemeth good to you, and share in all that is ours. Son +Face-of-god, show these warriors to seats on the daïs beside +thee, and cherish them as well as thou knowest how.’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god brought them up on to the daïs and sat +down on the right hand of his father, with Dallach on his right +hand, and then Wolf-stone out from him; then sat Stone-face, that +there might be a man of the Dale to talk with them and <a +name="page225"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 225</span>serve them; +and on his right hand first Spear-fist and then God-swain. +And when they were all sat down, and the meat was on the board, +Iron-face turned to his son Face-of-god and took his hand, and +said in a loud voice, so that many might hear him:</p> +<p>‘Son Face-of-god, son Gold-mane, thou bearest with thee +both ill luck and good. Erewhile, when thou wanderedst out +into the Wild-wood, seeking thou knewest not what from out of the +Land of Dreams, thou didst but bring aback to us grief and shame; +but now that thou hast gone forth with the neighbours seeking thy +foemen, thou hast come aback to us with thine hands full of +honour and joy for us, and we thank thee for thy gifts, and I +call thee a lucky man. Herewith, kinsman, I drink to thee +and the lasting of thy luck.’</p> +<p>Therewith he stood up and drank the health of the War-leader +and the Guests: and all men were exceeding joyous thereat, when +they called to mind his wrath at the Gate-thing, and they shouted +for gladness as they drank that health, and the feast became +exceeding merry in the House of the Face; and as to the war to +come, it seemed to them as if it were over and done in all +triumph.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXX. HALL-FACE GOETH TOWARD ROSE-DALE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">On</span> the morrow Face-of-god took +counsel with Hall-face and Stone-face as to what were best to be +done, and they sat on the daïs in the Hall to talk it +over.</p> +<p>Short was the time that had worn since that day in Shadowy +Vale, for it was but eight days since then; yet so many things +had befallen in that time, and, to speak shortly, the outlook for +the Burgdalers had changed so much, that the time seemed long to +all the three, and especially to Face-of-god.</p> +<p>It was yet twenty days till the Great Folk-mote should +beholden, <a name="page226"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +226</span>and to Hall-face the time seemed long enough to do +somewhat, and he deemed it were good to gather force and fall on +the Dusky Men in Rose-dale, since now they had gotten men who +could lead them the nighest way and by the safest passes, and who +knew all the ways of the foemen. But to Stone-face this +rede seemed not so good; for they would have to go and come back, +and fight and conquer, in less time than twenty days, or be +belated of the Folk-mote, and meanwhile much might happen.</p> +<p>‘For,’ said Stone-face, ‘we may deem the +fighting-men of Rose-dale to be little less than one thousand, +and however we fall on them, even if it be unawares at first, +they shall fight stubbornly; so that we may not send against them +many less than they be, and that shall strip Burgdale of its +fighting-men, so that whatever befalls, we that be left shall +have to bide at home.’</p> +<p>Now was Face-of-god of the same mind as Stone-face; and he +said moreover: ‘When we go to Rose-dale we must abide there +a while unless we be overthrown. For if ye conquer it and +come away at once, presently shall the tidings come to the ears +of the Dusky Men in Silver-dale, and they shall join themselves +to those of Rose-dale who have fled before you, and between them +they shall destroy the unhappy people therein; for ye cannot take +them all away with you: and that shall they do all the more now, +when they look to have new thralls in Burgdale, both men and +women. And this we may not suffer, but must abide till we +have met all our foemen and have overcome them, so that the poor +folk there shall be safe from them till they have learned how to +defend their dale. Now my rede is, that we send out the +War-arrow at once up and down the Dale, and to the Shepherds and +Woodlanders, and appoint a day for the Muster and Weapon-show of +all our Folk, and that day to be the day before the Spring +Market, that is to say, four days before the Great Folk-mote, and +meantime that we keep sure watch about the border of the wood, +and now and again scour the wood, so as to clear the Dale of +their wandering bands.’</p> +<p><a name="page227"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +227</span>‘Yea,’ said Hall-face; ‘and I pray +thee, brother, let me have an hundred of men and thy Dallach, and +let us go somewhat deep into the wood towards Rose-dale, and see +what we may come across; peradventure it might be something +better than hart or wild-swine.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘I see no harm therein, if Dallach +goeth with thee freely; for I will have no force put on him or +any other of the Runaways. Yet meseemeth it were not ill +for thee to find the road to Rose-dale; for I have it in my mind +to send a company thither to give those Rose-dale man-quellers +somewhat to do at home when we fall upon Silver-dale. +Therefore go find Dallach, and get thy men together at once; for +the sooner thou art gone on thy way the better. But this I +bid thee, go no further than three days out, that ye may be back +home betimes.’</p> +<p>At this word Hall-face’s eyes gleamed with joy, and he +went out from the Hall straightway and sought Dallach, and found +him at the Gate. Iron-face had given him a new sword, a +good one, and had bidden him call it Thicket-clearer, and he +would not leave it any moment of the day or night, but would lay +it under his pillow at night as a child does with a new toy; and +now he was leaning against a buttress and drawing the said sword +half out of the scabbard and poring over its blade, which was +indeed fair enough, being wrought with dark grey waving lines +like the eddies of the Weltering Water.</p> +<p>So Hall-face greeted him, and smiled and said:</p> +<p>‘Guest, if thou wilt, thou may’st take that new +blade of my father’s work which thou lovest so, a journey +which shall rejoice it.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Dallach, ‘I suppose that thou +wouldest fare on thy brother’s footsteps, and deemest that +I am the man to lead thee on the road, and even farther than he +went; and though it might be thought by some that I have seen +enough of Rose-dale and the parts thereabout for one while, yet +will I go with thee; for now am I a man again, body and +soul.’</p> +<p>And therewith he drew Thicket-clearer right out of his sheath +<a name="page228"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 228</span>and +waved him in the air. And Hall-face was glad of him and +said he was well apaid of his help. So they went away +together to gather men, and on the morrow Hall-face departed and +went into the Wild-wood with Dallach and an hundred and two score +men.</p> +<p>But as for Face-of-god, he fared up and down the Dale +following the War-arrow, and went into all houses, and talked +with the folk, both young and old, men and women, and told them +closely all that had betid and all that was like to betide; and +he was well pleased with that which he saw and heard; for all +took his words well, and were nought afeard or dismayed by the +tidings; and he saw that they would not hang aback. +Meantime the days wore, and Hall-face came not back till the +seventh day, and he brought with him twelve more Runaways, of +whom five were women. But he had lost four men, and had +with him Dallach and five others of the Dalesmen borne upon +litters sore hurt; and this was his story:</p> +<p>They got to the Burg of the Runaways on the forenoon of the +third day, and thereby came on five carles of the +Runaways—men who had missed meeting Dallach that other day, +but knew what had been done; for one of them had been sick and +could not come with him, and he had told the others: so now they +were hanging about the Burg of the Runaways hoping somewhat that +he might come again; and they met the Burgdalers full of joy, and +brought them trouts that they had caught in the river.</p> +<p>As for the other runaways, namely, five women and two more +carles—they had gotten them close to the entrance into +Silver-dale, where by night and cloud they came on a campment of +the Dusky Men, who were leading home these seven poor wretches, +runaways whom they had caught, that they might slay them most +evilly in Rose-stead. So Hall-face fell on the Dusky Men, +and delivered their captives, but slew not all the foe, and they +that fled brought pursuers on them who came up with them the next +day, so near was Rose-dale, though they made all diligence +homeward. The <a name="page229"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 229</span>Burgdalers must needs turn and fight +with those pursuers, and at last they drave them aback so that +they might go on their ways home. They let not the grass +grow beneath their feet thereafter, till they were assured by +meeting a band of the Woodlanders, who had gone forth to help +them, and with whom they rested a little. But neither so +were they quite done with the foemen, who came upon them next day +a very many: these however they and the Woodlanders, who were all +fresh and unwounded and very valiant, speedily put to the worse; +and so they came on to Burgstead, leaving those of them who were +sorest hurt to be tended by the Woodlanders at Carlstead, who, as +might be looked for, deal with them very lovingly.</p> +<p>It was in the first fight that they suffered that loss of +slain and wounded; and therein the newly delivered thralls fought +valiantly against their masters: as for Dallach, it was no +marvel, said Hall-face, that he was hurt; but rather a marvel +that he was not slain, so little he recked of point and edge, if +he might but slay the foemen.</p> +<p>Such was Hall-face’s-tale; and Face-of-god deemed that +he had done unwisely to let him go that journey; for the slaying +of a few Dusky Men was but a light gain to set against the loss +of so many Burgdalers; yet was he glad of the deliverance of +those Runaways, and deemed it a gain indeed. But henceforth +would he hold all still till he should have tidings of +Folk-might; so nought was done thereafter save the warding of the +Dale, from the country of the Shepherds to the Waste above the +Eastern passes.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god himself went up amongst the Shepherds, and +abode with a goodman hight Hound-under-Greenbury, who gathered to +him the folk from the country-side, and they went up on to +Greenbury, and sat on the green grass while he spoke with them +and told them, as he had told the others, what had been done and +what should be done. And they heard him gladly, and he +deemed that there would be no blenching in them, for they were +all in one tale to live and die with their friends of Burgdale, +<a name="page230"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 230</span>and they +said that they would have no other word save that to bear to the +Great Folk-mote.</p> +<p>So he went away well-pleased, and he fared on thence to the +Woodlanders, and guested at the house of a valiant man hight +Wargrove, who on the morrow morn called the folk together to a +green lawn of the Wild-wood, so that there was scarce a soul of +them that was not there. Then he laid the whole matter +before them; and if the Dalesmen had been merry and ready, and +the Shepherds stout-hearted and friendly, yet were the +Wood-landers more eager still, so that every hour seemed long to +them till they stood in their war-gear; and they told him that +now at last was the hour drawing nigh which they had dreamed of, +but had scarce dared to hope for, when the lost way should be +found, and the crooked made straight, and that which had been +broken should be mended; that their meat and drink, and sleeping +and waking, and all that they did were now become to them but the +means of living till the day was come whereon the two remnants of +the children of the Wolf should meet and become one Folk to live +or die together.</p> +<p>Then went Face-of-god back to Burgstead again, and as he stood +anigh the Thing-stead once more, and looked down on the Dale as +he had beheld it last autumn, he bethought him that with all that +had been done and all that had been promised, the earth was +clearing of her trouble, and that now there was nought betwixt +him and the happy days of life which the Dale should give to the +dwellers therein, save the gathering hosts of the battle-field +and the day when the last word should be spoken and the first +stroke smitten. So he went down on to the Portway well +content.</p> +<p>Thereafter till the day of the Weapon-show there is nought to +tell of, save that Dallach and the other wounded men began to +grow whole again; and all men sat at home, or went on the +woodland ward, expecting great tidings after the holding of the +Folk-mote.</p> +<h2><a name="page231"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +231</span>CHAPTER XXXI. OF THE WEAPON-SHOW OF THE MEN OF +BURGDALE AND THEIR NEIGHBOURS.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> on the day appointed for the +Weapon-show came the Folk flock-meal to the great and wide meadow +that was cleft by Wildlake as it ran to join the Weltering +Water. Early in the morning, even before sunrise, had the +wains full of women and children begun to come thither. +Also there came little horses and asses from the Shepherd country +with one or two or three damsels or children sitting on each, and +by wain-side or by beast strode the men of the house, merry and +fair in their war-gear. The Woodlanders, moreover, man and +woman, elder and swain and young damsel, streamed out of the wood +from Carlstead, eager to make the day begin before the sunrise, +and end before his setting.</p> +<p>Then all men fell to pitching of tents and tilting over of +wains; for the April sun was hot in the Dale, and when he arose +the meads were gay with more than the spring flowers; for the +tents and the tilts were stained and broidered with many colours, +and there was none who had not furbished up his war-gear so that +all shone and glittered. And many wore gay surcoats over +their armour, and the women were clad in all their bravery, and +the Houses mostly of a suit; for one bore blue and another +corn-colour, and another green, and another brazil, and so forth, +and all gleaming and glowing with broidery of gold and bright +hues. But the women of the Shepherds were all clad in +white, embroidered with green boughs and red blossoms, and the +Woodland women wore dark red kirtles. Moreover, the women +had set garlands of flowers on their heads and the helms of the +men, and for the most part they were slim of body and tall and +light-limbed, and as dainty to look upon as the willow-boughs +that waved on the brook-side.</p> +<p>Thither had the goodmen who were guesting the Runaways brought +their guests, even now much bettered by their new soft days; and +much the poor folk marvelled at all this joyance, and <a +name="page232"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 232</span>they scarce +knew where they were; but to some it brought back to their minds +days of joyance before the thralldom and all that they had lost, +so that their hearts were heavy a while, till they saw the +warriors of the kindreds streaming into the mead and bethought +them why they carried steel.</p> +<p>Now by then the sun was fully up there was a great throng on +the Portway, and this was the folk of the Burg on their way to +the Weapon-mead. The men-at-arms were in the midst of the +throng, and at the head of them was the War-leader, with the +banner of the Face before him, wherein was done the image of the +God with the ray-ringed head. But at the rearward of the +warriors went the Alderman and the Burg-wardens, before whom was +borne the banner of the Burg pictured with the Gate and its +Towers; but in the midst betwixt those two was the banner of the +Steer, a white beast on a green field.</p> +<p>So when the Dale-wardens who were down in the meadow heard the +music and beheld who were coming, they bade the companies of the +Dale and the Shepherds and the Woodlanders who were down there to +pitch their banners in a half circle about the ingle of the +meadow which was made by the streams of Wildlake and the +Weltering Water, and gather to them to be ordered there under +their leaders of scores and half-hundreds and hundreds; and even +so they did. But the banners of the Dale without the Burg +were the Bridge, and the Bull, and the Vine, and the +Sickle. And the Shepherds had three banners, to wit +Greenbury, and the Fleece, and the Thorn.</p> +<p>As for the Woodlanders, they said that they were abiding their +great banner, but it should come in good time; ‘and +meantime,’ said they, ‘here are the war-tokens that +we shall fight under; for they are good enough banners for us +poor men, the remnant of the valiant of time past.’ +Therewith they showed two great spears, and athwart the one was +tied an arrow, its point dipped in blood, its feathers singed +with fire; and they said, ‘This is the banner of the +War-shaft.’</p> +<p><a name="page233"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 233</span>On +the other spear there was nought; but the head thereof was great +and long, and they had so burnished the steel that the sun smote +out a ray of light from it, so that it might be seen from +afar. And they said: ‘This is the Banner of the +Spear! Down yonder where the ravens are gathering ye shall +see a banner flying over us. There shall fall many a +mother’s son.’</p> +<p>Smiled the Dale-wardens, and said that these were good banners +to fight under; and those that stood nearby shouted for the +valiancy of the Woodland Carles.</p> +<p>Now the Dale-wardens went to the entrance from the Portway to +the meadow, and there met the Men of the Burg, and two of them +went one on either side of the War-leader to show him to his +seat, and the others abode till the Alderman and Burg-wardens +came up, and then joined themselves to them, and the horns blew +up both in the meadow and on the road, and the new-comers went +their ways to their appointed places amidst the shouts of the +Dalesmen; and the women and children and old men from the Burg +followed after, till all the mead was covered with bright raiment +and glittering gear, save within the ring of men at the further +end.</p> +<p>So came the War-leader to his seat of green turf raised in the +ingle aforesaid; and he stood beside it till the Alderman and +Wardens had taken their places on a seat behind him raised higher +than his; below him on the step of his seat sat the Scrivener +with his pen and ink-horn and scroll of parchment, and men had +brought him a smooth shield whereon to write.</p> +<p>On the left side of Face-of-god stood the men of the Face all +glittering in their arms, and amongst them were Wolf-stone and +his two fellows, but Dallach was not yet whole of his +hurts. On his right were the folk of the House of the +Steer: the leader of that House was an old white-bearded man, +grandfather of the Bride, for her father was dead; and who but +the Bride herself stood beside him in her glorious war-gear, +looking as if she were new come from the City of the Gods, +thought most men; but <a name="page234"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 234</span>those who beheld her closely deemed +that she looked heavy-eyed and haggard, as if she were +aweary. Nevertheless, wheresoever she passed, and whosoever +looked on her (and all men looked on her), there arose a murmur +of praise and love; and the women, and especially the young ones, +said how fair her deed was, and how meet she was for it; and some +of them were for doing on war-gear and faring to battle with the +carles; and of these some were sober and solemn, as was well seen +afterwards, and some spake lightly: some also fell to boasting of +how they could run and climb and swim and shoot in the bow, and +fell to baring of their arms to show how strong they were: and +indeed they were no weaklings, though their arms were fair.</p> +<p>There then stood the ring of men, each company under its +banner; and beyond them stood the women and children and men +unmeet for battle; and beyond them again the tilted wains and the +tents.</p> +<p>Now Face-of-god sat him down on the turf-seat with his bright +helm on his head and his naked sword across his knees, while the +horns blew up loudly, and when they had done, the elder of the +Dale-wardens cried out for silence. Then again arose +Face-of-god and said:</p> +<p>‘Men of the Dale, and ye friends of the Shepherds, and +ye, O valiant Woodlanders; we are not assembled here to take +counsel, for in three days’ time shall the Great Folk-mote +be holden, whereat shall be counsel enough. But since I +have been appointed your Chief and War-leader, till such time as +the Folk-mote shall either yeasay or naysay my leadership, I have +sent for you that we may look each other in the face and number +our host and behold our weapons, and see if we be meet for battle +and for the dealing with a great host of foemen. For now no +longer can it be said that we are going to war, but rather that +war is on our borders, and we are blended with it; as many have +learned to their cost; for some have been slain and some sorely +hurt. Therefore I bid you now, all ye that are weaponed, +wend past us <a name="page235"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +235</span>that the tale of you may be taken. But first let +every hundred-leader and half-hundred-leader and score-leader +make sure that he hath his tale aright, and give his word to the +captain of his banner that he in turn may give it out to the +Scrivener with his name and the House and Company that he +leadeth.’</p> +<p>So he spake and sat him adown; and the horns blew again in +token that the companies should go past; and the first that came +was Hall-ward of the House of the Steer, and the first of those +that went after him was the Bride, going as if she were his +son.</p> +<p>So he cried out his name, and the name of his House, and said, +‘An hundred and a half,’ and passed forth, his men +following him in most goodly array. Each man was girt with +a good sword and bore a long heavy spear over his shoulder, save +a score who bare bows; and no man lacked a helm, a shield, and a +coat of fence.</p> +<p>Then came a goodly man of thirty winters, and stayed before +the Scrivener and cried out:</p> +<p>‘Write down the House of the Bridge of the Upper Dale at +one hundred, and War-well their leader.’</p> +<p>And he strode on, and his men followed clad and weaponed like +those of the Steer, save that some had axes hanging to their +girdles instead of swords; and most bore casting-spears instead +of the long spears, and half a score were bowmen.</p> +<p>Then came Fox of Upton leading the men of the Bull of Middale, +an hundred and a half lacking two; very great and tall were his +men, and they also bore long spears, and one score and two were +bowmen.</p> +<p>Then Fork-beard of Lea, a man well on in years, led on the men +of the Vine, an hundred and a half and five men thereto; two +score of them bare bow in hand and were girt with sword; the rest +bore their swords naked in their right hands, and their shields +(which were but small bucklers) hanging at their backs, and in +the left hand each bore two casting-spears. With these went +two doughty women-at-arms among the bowmen, tall and well-knit, +already growing brown with the spring sun, for their <a +name="page236"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 236</span>work lay +among the stocks of the vines on the southward-looking bents.</p> +<p>Next came a tall young man, yellow-haired, with a thin red +beard, and gave himself out for Red-beard of the Knolls; he bore +his father’s name, as the custom of their house was, but +the old man, who had long been head man of the House of the +Sickle, was late dead in his bed, and the young man had not seen +twenty winters. He bade the Scrivener write the tale of the +Men of the Sickle at an hundred and a half, and his folk fared +past the War-leader joyously, being one half of them bowmen; and +fell shooters they were; the other half were girt with swords, +and bore withal long ashen staves armed with great blades curved +inwards, which weapon they called heft-sax.</p> +<p>All these bands, as the name and the tale of them was declared +were greeted with loud shouts from their fellows and the +bystanders; but now arose a greater shout still, as Stone-face, +clad in goodly glittering array, came forth and said:</p> +<p>‘I am Stone-face of the House of the Face, and I bring +with me two hundreds of men with their best war-gear and weapons: +write it down, Scrivener!’</p> +<p>And he strode on like a young man after those who had gone +past, and after him came the tall Hall-face and his men, a +gallant sight to see: two score bowmen girt with swords, and the +others with naked swords waving aloft, and each bearing two +casting-spears in his left hand.</p> +<p>Then came a man of middle age, broad-shouldered, +yellow-haired, blue-eyed, of wide and ruddy countenance, and +after him a goodly company; and again great was the shout that +went up to the heavens; for he said:</p> +<p>‘Scrivener, write down that Hound-under-Greenbury, from +amongst the dwellers in the hills where the sheep feed, leadeth +the men who go under the banner of Greenbury, to the tale of an +hundred and four score.’</p> +<p>Therewith he passed on, and his men followed, stout, stark, <a +name="page237"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 237</span>and +merry-faced, girt with swords, and bearing over their shoulders +long-staved axes, and spears not so long as those which the +Dalesmen bore; and they had but a half score of arrow-shot with +them.</p> +<p>Next came a young man, blue-eyed also, with hair the colour of +flax on the distaff, broad-faced and short-nosed, low of stature, +but very strong-built, who cried out in a loud, cheerful +voice:</p> +<p>‘I am Strongitharm of the Shepherds, and these valiant +men are of the Fleece and the Thorn blended together, for so they +would have it; and their tale is one hundred and two score and +ten.’</p> +<p>Then the men of those kindreds went past merry and shouting, +and they were clad and weaponed like to them of Greenbury, but +had with them a score of bowmen. And all these +Shepherd-folk wore over their hauberks white woollen surcoats +broidered with green and red.</p> +<p>Now again uprose the cry, and there stood before the +War-leader a very tall man of fifty winters, dark-faced and +grey-eyed, and he spake slowly and somewhat softly, and said:</p> +<p>‘War-leader, this is Red-wolf of the Woodlanders leading +the men who go under the sign of the War-shaft, to the number of +an hundred and two.’</p> +<p>Then he passed on, and his men after him, tall, lean, and +silent amidst the shouting. All these men bare bows, for +they were keen hunters; each had at his girdle a little axe and a +wood-knife, and some had long swords withal. They wore, +everyone of the carles, short green surcoats over their coats of +fence; but amongst them were three women who bore like weapons to +the men, but were clad in red kirtles under their hauberks, which +were of good ring-mail gleaming over them from throat to +knee.</p> +<p>Last came another tall man, but young, of twenty-five winters, +and spake:</p> +<p>‘Scrivener, I am Bears-bane of the Woodlanders, and +these that come after me wend under the sign of the Spear, and +they are of the tale of one hundred and seven.’</p> +<p><a name="page238"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 238</span>And +he passed by at once, and his men followed him, clad and weaponed +no otherwise than they of the War-shaft, and with them were two +women.</p> +<p>Now went all those companies back to their banners, and stood +there; and there arose among the bystanders much talk concerning +the Weapon-show, and who were the best arrayed of the +Houses. And of the old men, some spake of past weapon-shows +which they had seen in their youth, and they set them beside this +one, and praised and blamed. So it went on a little while +till the horns blew again, and once more there was silence. +Then arose Face-of-god and said:</p> +<p>‘Men of Burgdale, and ye Shepherd-folk, and ye of the +Woodland, now shall ye wot how many weaponed men we may bring +together for this war. Scrivener, arise and give forth the +tale of the companies, as they have been told unto +you.’</p> +<p>Then the Scrivener stood up on the turf-bench beside +Face-of-god, and spake in a loud voice, reading from his +scroll:</p> +<p>‘Of the Men of Burgdale there have passed by me nine +hundreds and six; of the Shepherds three hundreds and eight and +ten; and of the Woodlanders two hundreds and nine; so that all +told our men are fourteen hundreds and thirty and +three.’</p> +<p>Now in those days men reckoned by long hundreds, so that the +whole tale of the host was one thousand, five hundred, and four +score and one, telling the tale in short hundreds.</p> +<p>When the tale had been given forth and heard, men shouted +again, and they rejoiced that they were so many. For it +exceeded the reckoning which the Alderman had given out at the +Gate-thing. But Face-of-god said:</p> +<p>‘Neighbours, we have held our Weapon-show; but now hold +you ready, each man, for the Hosting toward very battle; for +belike within seven days shall the leaders of hundreds and +twenties summon you to be ready in arms to take whatso fortune +may befall. Now is sundered the Weapon-show. Be ye as +merry to-day as your hearts bid you to be.’</p> +<p><a name="page239"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +239</span>Therewith he came down from his seat with the Alderman +and the Wardens, and they mingled with the good folk of the Dale +and the Shepherds and the Woodlanders, and merry was their +converse there. It yet lacked an hour of noon; so presently +they fell to and feasted in the green meadow, drinking from wain +to wain and from tent to tent; and thereafter they played and +sported in the meads, shooting at the butts and wrestling, and +trying other masteries. Then they fell to dancing one and +all, and so at last to supper on the green grass in great +merriment. Nor might you have known from the demeanour of +any that any threat of evil overhung the Dale. Nay, so glad +were they, and so friendly, that you might rather have deemed +that this was the land whereof tales tell, wherein people die +not, but live for ever, without growing any older than when they +first come thither, unless they be born into the land itself, and +then they grow into fair manhood, and so abide. In sooth, +both the land and the folk were fair enough to be that land and +the folk thereof.</p> +<p>But a little after sunset they sundered, and some fared home; +but many of them abode in the tents and tilted wains, because the +morrow was the first day of the Spring Market: and already were +some of the Westland chapmen come; yea, two of them were with the +bystanders in the meadow; and more were looked for ere the night +was far spent.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXII. THE MEN OF SHADOWY VALE COME TO THE +SPRING MARKET AT BURGSTEAD.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">On</span> the morrow betimes in the +morning the Westland chapmen, who were now all come, went out +from the House of the Face, where they were ever wont to be +lodged, and set up their booths adown the street betwixt gate and +bridge. Gay was the show; for the booths were tilted over +with painted cloths, and the merchants themselves were clad in +long gowns of <a name="page240"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +240</span>fine cloth; scarlet, and blue, and white, and green, +and black, with broidered welts of gold and silver; and their +knaves were gaily attired in short coats of divers hues, with +silver rings about their arms, and short swords girt to their +sides. People began to gather about these chapmen at once +when they fell to opening their bales and their packs, and +unloading their wains. There had they iron, both in pigs +and forged scrap and nails; steel they had, and silver, both in +ingots and vessel; pearls from over sea; cinnabar and other +colours for staining, such as were not in the mountains: madder +from the marshes, and purple of the sea, and scarlet grain from +the holm-oaks by its edge, and woad from the deep clayey fields +of the plain; silken thread also from the outer ocean, and rare +webs of silk, and jars of olive oil, and fine pottery, and +scented woods, and sugar of the cane. But gold they had +none with them, for that they took there; and for weapons, save a +few silver-gilt toys, they had no market.</p> +<p>So presently they fell to chaffer; for the carles brought them +little bags of the river-borne gold, so that the weights and +scales were at work; others had with them scrolls and tallies to +tell the number of the beasts which they had to sell, and the +chapmen gave them wares therefor without beholding the beasts; +for they wotted that the Dalesmen lied not in chaffer. +While the day was yet young withal came the Dalesmen from the mid +and nether Dale with their wares and set up their booths; and +they had with them flasks and kegs of the wine which they had to +sell; and bales of the good winter-woven cloth, some grey, some +dyed, and pieces of fine linen; and blades of swords, and knives, +and axes of such fashion as the Westland men used; and golden +cups and chains, and fair rings set with mountain-blue stones, +and copper bowls, and vessels gilt and parcel-gilt, and +mountain-blue for staining. There were men of the Shepherds +also with such fleeces as they could spare from the daily chaffer +with the neighbours. And of the Woodlanders were four +carles and a woman with peltries and dressed deer-skins, and a +few pieces <a name="page241"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +241</span>of well-carven wood-work for bedsteads and chairs and +such like.</p> +<p>Soon was the Burg thronged with folk in all its open places, +and all were eager and merry, and it could not have been told +from their demeanour and countenance that the shadow of a +grievous trouble hung over them. True it was that every man +of the Dale and the neighbours was girt with his sword, or bore +spear or axe or other weapon in his hand, and that most had their +bucklers at their backs and their helms on their heads; but this +was ever their custom at all meetings of men, not because they +dreaded war or were fain of strife, but in token that they were +free men, from whom none should take the weapons without +battle.</p> +<p>Such were the folk of the land: as for the chapmen, they were +well-spoken and courteous, and blithe with the folk, as they well +might be, for they had good pennyworths of them; yet they dealt +with them without using measureless lying, as behoved folk +dealing with simple and proud people; and many was the tale they +told of the tidings of the Cities and the Plain.</p> +<p>There amongst the throng was the Bride in her maiden’s +attire, but girt with the sword, going from booth to booth with +her guests of the Runaways, and doing those poor people what +pleasure she might, and giving them gifts from the goods there, +such as they set their hearts on. And the more part of the +Runaways were about among the people of the Fair; but Dallach, +being still weak, sat on a bench by the door of the House of the +Face looking on well-pleased at all the stir of folk.</p> +<p>Hall-face was gone on the woodland ward; while Face-of-god +went among the folk in his most glorious attire; but he soon +betook him to the place of meeting without the Gate, where +Stone-face and some of the elders were sitting along with the +Alderman, beside whom sat the head man of the merchants, clad in +a gown of fine scarlet embroidered with the best work of the +Dale, with a golden chaplet on his head, and a good sword, +golden-hilted, by his side, all which the Alderman had given to +it <a name="page242"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 242</span>him +that morning. These chiefs were talking together concerning +the tidings of the Plain, and many a tale the guest told to the +Dalesmen, some true, some false. For there had been battles +down there, and the fall of kings, and destruction of people, as +oft befalleth in the guileful Cities. He told them also, in +answer to their story of the Dusky Men, of how men even +such-like, but riding on horses, or drawn in wains, an host not +to be numbered, had erewhile overthrown the hosts of the Cities +of the Plain, and had wrought evils scarce to be told of; and how +they had piled up the skulls of slaughtered folk into great hills +beside the city-gates, so that the sun might no longer shine into +the streets; and how because of the death and the rapine, grass +had grown in the kings’ chambers, and the wolves had chased +deer in the Temples of the Gods.</p> +<p>‘But,’ quoth he, ‘I know you, bold tillers +of the soil, valiant scourers of the Wild-wood, that the worst +that can befall you will be to die under shield, and that ye +shall suffer no torment of the thrall. May the undying Gods +bless the threshold of this Gate, and oft may I come hither to +taste of your kindness! May your race, the uncorrupt, +increase and multiply, till your valiant men and clean maidens +make the bitter sweet and purify the earth!’</p> +<p>He spake smooth-tongued and smiling, handling the while the +folds of his fine scarlet gown, and belike he meant a full half +of what he said; for he was a man very eloquent of speech, and +had spoken with kings, uncowed and pleased with his speaking; and +for that cause and his riches had he been made chief of the +chapmen. As he spake the heart of Face-of-god swelled +within him, and his cheek flushed; but Iron-face sat up straight +and proud, and a light smile played about his face, as he said +gravely:</p> +<p>‘Friend of the Westland, I thank thee for the blessing +and the kind word. Such as we are, we are; nor do I deem +that the very Gods shall change us. And if they will be our +friends, it is well; for we desire nought of them save their +friendship; and if they will be our foes, that also shall we +bear; nor will we curse them for <a name="page243"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 243</span>doing that which their lives bid +them to do. What sayest thou, Face-of-god, my +son?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, father,’ said Face-of-god, ‘I say that +the very Gods, though they slay me, cannot unmake my life that +has been. If they do deeds, yet shall we also +do.’</p> +<p>The Outlander smiled as they spake, and bowed his head to +Iron-face and Face-of-god, and wondered at their pride of heart, +marvelling what they would say to the great men of the Cities if +they should meet them.</p> +<p>But as they sat a-talking, there came two men running to them +from the Portway, their weapons all clattering upon them, and +they heard withal the sound of a horn winded not far off very +loud and clear; and the Chapman’s cheek paled: for in sooth +he doubted that war was at hand, after all he had heard of the +Dalesmen’s dealings with the Dusky Men. And all +battle was loathsome to him, nor for all the gain of his chaffer +had he come into the Dale, had he known that war was looked +for.</p> +<p>But the chiefs of the Dalesmen stirred not, nor changed +countenance; and some of the goodmen who were in the street nigh +the Gate came forth to see what was toward; for they also had +heard the voice of the horn.</p> +<p>Then one of those messengers came up breathless, and stood +before the chiefs, and said:</p> +<p>‘New tidings, Alderman; here be weaponed strangers come +into the Dale.’</p> +<p>The Alderman smiled on him and said: ‘Yea, son, and are +they a great host of men?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said the man, ‘not above a score as I +deem, and there is a woman with them.’</p> +<p>‘Then shall we abide them here,’ said the +Alderman, ‘and thou mightest have saved thy breath, and +suffered them to bring tidings of themselves; since they may +scarce bring us war. For no man desireth certain and +present death; and that is all that such a band may win at our +hands in battle to-day; and all who <a name="page244"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 244</span>come in peace are welcome to +us. What like are they to behold?’</p> +<p>Said the man: ‘They are tall men gloriously attired, so +that they seem like kinsmen of the Gods; and they bear flowering +boughs in their hands.’</p> +<p>The Alderman laughed, and said: ‘If they be Gods they +are welcome indeed; and they shall grow the wiser for their +coming; for they shall learn how guest-fain the Burgdale men may +be. But if, as I deem, they be like unto us, and but the +children of the Gods, then are they as welcome, and it may be +more so, and our greeting to them shall be as their greeting to +us would be.’</p> +<p>Even as he spake the horn was winded nearer yet, and more +loudly, and folk came pouring out of the Gate to learn the +tidings. Presently the strangers came from off the Portway +into the space before the Gate; and their leader was a tall and +goodly man of some thirty winters, in glorious array, helm on +head and sword by side, his surcoat green and flowery like the +spring meads. In his right hand he held a branch of the +blossomed black-thorn (for some was yet in blossom), and his left +had hold of the hand of an exceeding fair woman who went beside +him: behind him was a score of weaponed men in goodly attire, +some bearing bows, some long spears, but each bearing a flowering +bough in hand.</p> +<p>The tall man stopped in the midst of the space, and the +Alderman and they with him stirred not; though, as for +Face-of-god, it was to him as if summer had come suddenly into +the midst of winter, and for the very sweetness of delight his +face grew pale.</p> +<p>Then the new-comer drew nigh to the Alderman and said:</p> +<p>‘Hail to the Gate and the men of the Gate! Hail to +the kindred of the children of the Gods!’</p> +<p>But the Alderman stood up and spake: ‘And hail to thee, +tall man! Fair greeting to thee and thy company! Wilt +thou name thyself with thine own name, or shall I call thee +nought save Guest? Welcome art thou, by whatsoever name +thou wilt be called. Here may’st thou and thy folk +abide as long as ye will.’</p> +<p><a name="page245"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 245</span>Said +the new-comer: ‘Thanks have thou for thy greeting and for +thy bidding! And that bidding shall we take, whatsoever may +come of it; for we are minded to abide with thee for a +while. But know thou, O Alderman of the Dalesmen, that I am +not sackless toward thee and thine. My name is Folk-might +of the Children of the Wolf, and this woman is the Sun-beam, my +sister, and these behind me are of my kindred, and are well +beloved and trusty. We are no evil men or wrong-doers; yet +have we been driven into sore straits, wherein men must needs at +whiles do deeds that make their friends few and their foes +many. So it may be that I am thy foeman. Yet, if thou +doubtest of me that I shall be a baneful guest, thou shalt have +our weapons of us, and then mayest thou do thy will upon us +without dread; and here first of all is my sword!’</p> +<p>Therewith he cast down the flowering branch he was bearing, +and pulled his sword from out his sheath, and took it by the +point, and held out the hilt to Iron-face.</p> +<p>But the Alderman smiled kindly on him and said:</p> +<p>‘The blade is a good one, and I say it who know the +craft of sword-forging; but I need it not, for thou seest I have +a sword by my side. Keep your weapons, one and all; for ye +have come amongst many and those no weaklings: and if so be that +thy guilt against us is so great that we must needs fall on you, +ye will need all your war-gear. But hereof is no need to +speak till the time of the Folk-mote, which will be holden in +three days’ wearing; so let us forbear this matter till +then; for I deem we shall have enough to say of other +matters. Now, Folk-might, sit down beside me, and thou +also, Sun-beam, fairest of women.’</p> +<p>Therewith he looked into her face and reddened, and said:</p> +<p>‘Yet belike thou hast a word of greeting for my son, +Face-of-god, unless it be so that ye have not seen him +before?’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god came forward, and took Folk-might by the hand +and kissed him; and he stood before the Sun-beam and took her +hand, and the world waxed a wonder to him as he kissed <a +name="page246"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 246</span>her cheeks; +and in no wise did she change countenance, save that her eyes +softened, and she gazed at him full kindly from the happiness of +her soul.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god said: ‘Welcome, Guests, who erewhile +guested me so well: now beginneth the day of your well-doing to +the men of Burgdale; therefore will we do to you as well as we +may.’</p> +<p>Then Folk-might and the Sun-beam sat them down with the +chieftains, one on either side of the Alderman, but Face-of-god +passed forth to the others, and greeted them one by one: of them +was Wood-father and his three sons, and Bow-may; and they +rejoiced exceedingly to see him, and Bow-may said:</p> +<p>‘Now it gladdens my heart to look upon thee alive and +thriving, and to remember that day last winter when I met thee on +the snow, and turned thee back from the perilous path to thy +pleasure, which the Dusky Men were besetting, of whom thou +knewest nought. Yea, it was merry that tide; but this is +better. Nay, friend,’ she said, ‘it availeth +thee nought to strive to look out of the back of thine head: let +it be enough to thee that she is there. Thou art now become +a great chieftain, and she is no less; and this is a meeting of +chieftains, and the folk are looking on and expecting demeanour +of them as of the Gods; and she is not to be dealt with as if she +were the daughter of some little goodman with whom one hath made +tryst in the meadows. There! hearken to me for a while; at +least till I tell thee that thou seemest to me to hold thine head +higher than when last I saw thee; though that is no long time +either. Hast thou been in battle again since that +day?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ he said, ‘I have stricken no stroke +since I slew two felons within the same hour that we +parted. And thou, sister, what hast thou done?’</p> +<p>She said: ‘The grey goose hath been on the wing thrice +since that, bearing on it the bane of evil things.’</p> +<p>Then said Wood-wise: ‘Kinswoman, tell him of that +battle, since thou art deft with thy tongue.’</p> +<p><a name="page247"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 247</span>She +said: ‘Weary on battles! it is nought save this: twelve +days agone needs must every fighting-man of the Wolf, carle or of +queen, wend away from Shadowy Vale, while those unmeet for battle +we hid away in the caves at the nether end of the Dale: but +Sun-beam would not endure that night, and fared with us, though +she handled no weapon. All this we had to do because we had +learned that a great company of the Dusky Men were over-nigh to +our Dale, and needs must we fall upon them, lest they should +learn too much, and spread the story. Well, so wise was +Folk-might that we came on them unawares by night and cloud at +the edge of the Pine-wood, and but one of our men was slain, and +of them not one escaped; and when the fight was over we counted +four score and ten of their arm-rings.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Did that or aught else come of our meeting +with them that morning?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘nought came of it: those +we slew were but a straying band. Nay, the four score and +ten slain in the Pine-wood knew not of Shadowy Vale belike, and +had no intent for it: they were but scouring the wood seeking +their warriors that had gone out from Silver-dale and came not +aback.’</p> +<p>‘Thou art wise in war, Bow-may,’ said Face-of-god, +and he smiled withal.</p> +<p>Bow-may reddened and said: ‘Friend Gold-mane, dost thou +perchance deem that there is aught ill in my warring? And +the Sun-beam, she naysayeth the bearing of weapons; though I deem +that she hath little fear of them when they come her +way.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Nay, I deem no ill of it, but much +good. For I suppose that thou hast learned overmuch of the +wont of the Dusky Men, and hast seen their thralls?’</p> +<p>She knitted her brows, and all the merriment went out of her +face at that word, and she answered: ‘Yea, thou hast it; +for I have both seen their thralls and been in the Dale of +thralldom; and how then can I do less than I do? But for +thee, I perceive that thou hast been nigh unto our foes and hast +fallen in with <a name="page248"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +248</span>their thralls; and that is well; for whatso tales we +had told thee thereof it is like thou wouldst not have trowed in, +as now thou must do, since thou thyself hast seen these poor +folk. But now I will tell thee, Gold-mane, that my soul is +sick of these comings and goings for the slaughter of a few +wretches; and I long for the Great Day of Battle, when it will be +seen whether we shall live or die; and though I laugh and jest, +yet doth the wearing of the days wear me.’</p> +<p>He looked kindly on her and said: ‘I am War-leader of +this Folk, and trust me that the waiting-tide shall not be long; +wherefore now, sister, be merry to-day, for that is but meet and +right; and cast aside thy care, for presently shalt thou behold +many new friends. But now meseemeth overlong have ye been +standing before our Gate, and it is time that ye should see the +inside of our Burg and the inside of our House.’</p> +<p>Indeed by this time so many men had come out of the street +that the place before the Gate was all thronged, and from where +he stood Face-of-god could scarce see his father, or Folk-might +and the Sun-beam and the chieftains.</p> +<p>So he took Wood-father by the hand, and close behind him came +Wood-wise and Bow-may, and he cried out for way that he might +speak with the Alderman, and men gave way to them, and he led +those new-comers close up to the gate-seats of the Elders, and as +he clove the press smiling and bright-eyed and happy, all gazed +on him; but the Sun-beam, who was sitting between Iron-face and +the Westland Chapman, and who heretofore had been agaze with eyes +beholding little, past whose ears the words went unheard, and +whose mind wandered into thoughts of things unfashioned yet, when +she beheld him close to her again, then, taken unawares, her eyes +caressed him, and she turned as red as a rose, as she felt all +the sweetness of desire go forth from her to meet him. So +that, he perceiving it, his voice was the clearer and sweeter for +the inward joy he felt, as he said:</p> +<p>‘Alderman, meseemeth it is now time that we bring our +Guests <a name="page249"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +249</span>into the House of our Fathers; for since they are in +warlike array, and we are no longer living in peace, and I am now +War-leader of the Dale, I deem it but meet that I should have the +guesting of them. Moreover, when we are come into our +House, I will bid thee look into thy treasury, that thou +may’st find therein somewhat which it may pleasure us to +give to our Guests.’</p> +<p>Said Iron-face: ‘Thou sayest well, son, and since the +day is now worn past noon, and these folk are but just come from +the Waste, therefore such as we have of meat and drink abideth +them. And surely there is within our house a coffer which +belongeth to thee and me; and forsooth I know not why we keep the +treasures hoarded therein, save that it be for this cause: that +if we were to give to our friends that which we ourselves use and +love, which would be of all things pleasant to us, if we gave +them such goods, they would be worn and worsened by our use of +them. For this reason, therefore, do we keep fair things +which we use not, so that we may give them to our friends.</p> +<p>‘Now, Guests, both of the Waste and the Westland, since +here is no Gate-thing or meeting of the Dale-wardens, and we sit +here but for our pleasure, let us go take our pleasure within +doors for a while, if it seem good to you.’</p> +<p>Therewith he arose, and the folk made way for him and his +Guests; and Folk-might went on the right hand of Iron-face, and +beside him went the Chapman, who looked on him with a half-smile, +as though he knew somewhat of him. But on the other side of +Iron-face went the Sun-beam, whose hand he held, and after these +came Face-of-god, leading in the rest of the New-comers, who yet +held the flowery branches in their hands.</p> +<p>Now so much had Face-of-god told the Dalesmen, that they +deemed they all knew these men for their battle-fellows of whom +they had heard tell; and this the more as the men were so goodly +and manly of aspect, especially Folk-might, so that they seemed +as if they were nigh akin to the Gods. As for the Sun-beam, +they knew not how to praise her beauty enough, but they said that +<a name="page250"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 250</span>they had +never known before how fair the Gods might be. So they +raised a great shout of welcome as the men came through the Gate +into the Burg, and all men turned their backs on the booths, so +eager were they to behold closely these new friends.</p> +<p>But as the Guests went from the Gate to the House of the Face, +going very slowly because of the press, there in the front of the +throng stood the Bride with the women of the Runaways, whom she +had caused to be clad very fairly; and she was fain to do them a +pleasure by bringing them to sight of these new-comers, of whom +she had not heard who they were, though she had heard the cry +that strangers were at hand. So there she stood smiling a +little with the pleasure of showing a fair sight to the poor +people, as folk do with children. But when she saw those +twain going on each side of the Alderman she knew them at once; +and when the Sun-beam, who was on his left side, passed so close +to her that she could see the very smoothness and dainty fashion +of her skin, then was she astonied, and the world seemed strange +to her, and till they were gone by, and for a while afterwards, +she knew not where she was nor what she did, though it seemed to +her as if she still saw the face of that fair woman as in a +picture.</p> +<p>But the Sun-beam had noted her at first, even amongst the fair +women of Burgstead, and she so steady and bright beside the +wandering timorous eyes and lowering faces of the thralls. +But suddenly, as eye met eye, she saw her face change; she saw +her cheek whiten, her eyes stare, and her lips quiver, and she +knew at once who it was; for she had not seen her before as +Folk-might had. Then the Sun-beam cast her eyes adown, lest +her compassion might show in her face, and be a fresh grief to +her that had lost the wedding and the love; and so she passed +on.</p> +<p>As for Folk-might, he had seen her at once amongst all that +folk as he came into the street, and in sooth he was looking for +her; and when he saw her face change, as the sight of the +Sun-beam smote upon her heart, his own face burned with shame and +anger, and he looked back at her as he went toward the +House. <a name="page251"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +251</span>But she saw him not, nor noted him; and none deemed it +strange that he looked long on the Bride, the treasure of +Burgstead. But for some while Folk-might was few-spoken and +sharp-spoken amongst the chieftains; for he was slow to master +his longing and his wrath.</p> +<p>So when all the Guests had entered the door of the House of +the Face, the Alderman turned back, and, standing on the +threshold of his House, spake unto the throng:</p> +<p>‘Men of the Dale, and ye Outlanders who may be here, +know that this is a happy day; for hither have come to us Guests, +men of the kindred of the Gods, and they are even those of whom +Face-of-god my son hath told you. And they are friends of +our friends and foes of our foes. These men are now in my +House, as is but right; but when they come forth I look to you to +cherish them in the best way ye know, and make much of them, as +of those who may help us and who may by us be holpen.’</p> +<p>Therewith he went in again and into the Hall, and bade show +the New-comers to the daïs; and wine of the best, and meat +such as was to hand, was set before them. He bade men also +get ready high feast as great as might be against the evening; +and they did his bidding straightway.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII. THE ALDERMAN GIVES GIFTS TO THEM OF +SHADOWY VALE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the Hall of the Face Folk-might +sat on the daïs at the right hand of the Alderman, and the +Sun-beam on his left hand. But Iron-face also had beheld +the Bride how her face changed, and he knew the cause, and was +grieved and angry and ashamed thereof: also he bethought him how +this stranger was sitting in the very place where the Bride used +to sit, and of all the love, as of a very daughter, that he had +had for her; howbeit he constrained himself to talk courteously +and kindly both to Folk-might and <a name="page252"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 252</span>the Sun-beam, as behoved the Chief +of the House and the Alderman of the Dale. Moreover, he was +not a little moved by the goodliness and wisdom of the Sun-beam +and the manliness of Folk-might, who was the most chieftain-like +of men.</p> +<p>But while they sat there Face-of-god went from man to man of +the Guests, and made much of each, but especially of Wood-father +and his sons and Bow-may, and they loved him, and praised him, +and deemed him the best of hall-mates. Nor might the +Sun-beam altogether refrain her from looking lovingly on him, and +it could be seen of her that she deemed he was doing well, and +like a wise leader and chieftain.</p> +<p>So wore away awhile, and men were fulfilled of meat and drink; +so then the Alderman arose and spake, and said:</p> +<p>‘Is it not so, Guests, that ye would now gladly behold +our market, and the goodly wares which the chapmen have brought +us from the Cities?’</p> +<p>Then most men cried out: ‘Yea, yea!’ and Iron-face +said:</p> +<p>‘Then shall ye go, nor be holden by me from your +pleasure. And ye kinsmen who are the most guest-fain and +the wisest, go ye with our friends, and make all things easy and +happy for them. But first of all, Guests, I were well +pleased if ye would take some small matters out of our abundance; +for it were well that ye see them ere ye stand before the +chapmen’s booths, lest ye chaffer with them for what ye +have already.’</p> +<p>They all praised his bounty and thanked him for his goodwill: +so he arose to go to his treasury, and bade certain of his folk +go along with him to bear in the gifts. But ere he had +taken three steps down the hall, Face-of-god prevented him and +said:</p> +<p>‘Kinsman, if thou hast anywhere a hauberk somewhat +better than folk are wont to bear, such as thine own hand +fashioneth, and a sword of the like stuff, I would have thee give +them, the sword to my brother-in-arms Wood-wise here, and the +war-coat to my sister Bow-may, who shooteth so well in the bow +that none may shoot closer, and very few as close; and her shaft +it was <a name="page253"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +253</span>that delivered me when my skull was amongst the axes of +the Dusky Men: else had I not been here.’</p> +<p>Thereat Bow-may reddened and looked down, like a scholar who +hath been over-praised for his learning and diligence; but the +Alderman smiled on her and said:</p> +<p>‘I thank thee, son, that thou hast let me know what +these our two friends may be fain of: and as for this +damsel-at-arms, it is a little thing that thou askest for her, +and we might have found her something more worthy of her +goodliness; yet forsooth, since we are all bound for the place +where shafts and staves shall be good cheap, a greater treasure +might be of less avail to her.’</p> +<p>Thereat men laughed, and the Alderman went down the Hall with +those bearers of gifts, and was away for a space while they drank +and made merry: but presently back they came from the treasury +bearing loads of goodly things which were laid on one of the +endlong boards. Then began the gift-giving: and first he +gave unto Folk-might six golden cups marvellously fashioned, the +work of four generations of wrights in the Dale, and he himself +had wrought the last two thereof. To Sun-beam he gave a +girdle of gold, fashioned with great mastery, whereon were images +of the Gods and the Fathers, and warriors, and beasts of the +field and fowls of the air; and as he girt it about her loins, he +said in a soft voice so that few heard:</p> +<p>‘Sun-beam, thou fair woman, time has been when thou wert +to us as the edge of the poisonous sword or the midnight torch of +the murderer; but now I know not how it will be, or if the grief +which thou hast given me will ever wear out or not. And now +that I have beheld thee, I have little to do to blame my son; for +indeed when I look on thee I cannot deem that there is any evil +in thee. Yea, however it may be, take thou this gift as the +reward of thine exceeding beauty.’</p> +<p>She looked on him with kind eyes, and said meekly:</p> +<p>‘Indeed, if I have hurt thee unwittingly, I grieve to +have hurt so good a man. Hereafter belike we may talk more +of this, but <a name="page254"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +254</span>now I will but say, that whereas at first I needed but +to win thy son’s goodwill, so that our Folk might come to +life and thriving again, now it is come to this, that he holdeth +my heart in his hand and may do what he will with it; therefore I +pray thee withhold not thy love either from him or from +me.’</p> +<p>He looked on her wondering, and said: ‘Thou art such an +one as might make the old man young, and the boy grow into +manhood suddenly; and thy voice is as sweet as the voice of the +song-birds singing in the dawn of early summer soundeth to him +who hath been sick unto death, but who hath escaped it and is +mending. And yet I fear thee.’</p> +<p>Therewith he kissed her hand and turned unto the others, and +he gave unto Bow-may a hauberk of ring-mail of his own +fashioning, a sure defence and a wonderful work, and the collar +thereof was done with gold and gems.</p> +<p>But he said to her: ‘Fair damsel-at-arms, faithful is +thy face, and the fashion of thee is goodly: now art thou become +one of the best of our friends, and this is little enough to give +thee; yet would we fain ward thy body against the foeman; so +grieve us not by gainsaying us.’</p> +<p>And Bow-may was exceeding glad, and scarce knew how to cease +handling that marvel of ring-mail.</p> +<p>Then to Wood-wise Iron-face gave a most goodly sword, the +blade all marked with dark lines like the stream of an eddying +river, the hilts of steel and gold marvellously wrought; and all +the work of a smith who had dwelt in the house of his +father’s father, and was a great warrior.</p> +<p>Unto Wood-father he gave a very goodly helm parcel-gilded; and +to his sons and the other folk fair gifts of weapons and jewels +and girdles and cups and other good things; so that their hearts +were full of joy, and they all praised his open hand.</p> +<p>Then some of the best and merriest of the kinsmen of the Face, +and Face-of-god with them, brought the Guests out into the street +and among the booths. There Face-of-god beheld <a +name="page255"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 255</span>the Bride +again; and she was standing by the booth of a chapman and dealing +with him for a piece of goodly silken cloth to be a gown for one +of her guests, and she was talking and smiling as she chaffered +with him, as her wont was; for she was ever very friendly of +demeanour with all men. But he noted that she was yet +exceeding pale, and he was right sorry thereof, for he loved her +friendly; yet now had he no shame for all that had befallen, when +he bethought him of the Sun-beam and the love she had for +him. And also he had a deeming that the Bride would better +of her grief.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV. THE CHIEFTAINS TAKE COUNSEL IN THE HALL +OF THE FACE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Then</span> turned Face-of-god back into +the Hall, and saw where Iron-face sat at the daïs, and with +him Folk-might and Stone-face and the Elder of the Dale-wardens, +and Sun-beam withal; so he went soberly up to the board, and sat +himself down thereat beside Stone-face, over against Folk-might +and his father, beside whom sat the Sun-beam; and Folk-might +looked on him gravely, as a man powerful and trustworthy, yet was +his look somewhat sour.</p> +<p>Then the Alderman said: ‘My son, I said not to thee come +back presently, because I wotted that thou wouldst surely do so, +knowing that we have much to speak of. For, whatever these +thy friends may have done, or whatsoever thou hast done with them +to grieve us, all that must be set aside at this present time, +since the matter in hand is to save the Dale and its folk. +What sayest thou hereon? Since, young as thou mayst be, +thou art our War-leader, and doubtless shalt so be after the +Folk-mote hath been holden.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god answered not hastily: indeed, as he sat thinking +for a minute or two, the fair spring day seemed to darken about +<a name="page256"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 256</span>them or +to glare into the light of flames amidst the night-tide; and the +joyous clamour without doors seemed to grow hoarse and fearful as +the sound of wailing and shrieking. But he spake firmly and +simply in a clear voice, and said:</p> +<p>‘There can be no two words concerning what we have to +aim at; these Dusky Men we must slay everyone, though we be fewer +than they be.’</p> +<p>Folk-might smiled and nodded his head; but the others sat +staring down the hall or into the hangings.</p> +<p>Then spake Folk-might: ‘Thou wert a boy methought when I +cast my spear at thee last autumn, Face-of-god, but now hast thou +grown into a man. Now tell me, what deemest thou we must do +to slay them all?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Once again it is clear that we must +fall upon them at home in Rose-dale and Silver-dale.’</p> +<p>Again Folk-might nodded: but Iron-face said:</p> +<p>‘Needeth this? May we not ward the Dale and send +many bands into the wood to fall upon them when we meet +them? Yea, and so doing these our guests have already slain +many, as this valiant man hath told me e’en now. Will +ye not slay so many at last, that they shall learn to fear us, +and abide at home and leave us at peace?’</p> +<p>But Face-of-god said: ‘Meseemeth, father, that this is +not thy rede, and that thou sayest this but to try me: and +perchance ye have been talking about me when I was without in the +street e’en now. Even if it might be that we should +thus cow these felons into abiding at home and tormenting their +own thralls at their ease, yet how then are our friends of the +Wolf holpen to their own again? And I shall tell thee that +I have promised to this man and this woman that I will give them +no less than a man’s help in this matter. Moreover, I +have spoken in every house of the Dale, and to the Shepherds and +the Woodlanders, and there is no man amongst them but will follow +me in the quarrel. Furthermore, they have heard of the +thralldom that is <a name="page257"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +257</span>done on men no great way from their own houses; yea, +they have seen it; and they remember the old saw, “Grief in +thy neighbour’s hall is grief in thy garth,” and sure +it is, father, that whether thou or I gainsay them, go they will +to deliver the thralls of the Dusky Men, and will leave us alone +in the Dale.’</p> +<p>‘This is no less than sooth,’ said the +Dale-warden, ‘never have men gone forth more joyously to a +merry-making than all men of us shall wend to this +war.’</p> +<p>‘But,’ said Face-of-god, ‘of one thing ye +may be sure, that these men will not abide our pleasure till we +cut them all off in scattered bands, nor will they sit deedless +at home. Nor indeed may they; for we have heard from their +thralls that they look to have fresh tribes of them come to hand +to eat their meat and waste their servants, and these and they +must find new abodes and new thralls; and they are now warned by +the overthrows and slayings that they have had at our hands that +we are astir, and they will not delay long, but will fall upon us +with all their host; it might even be to-day or +to-morrow.’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘In all this thou sayest sooth, brother +of the Dale; and to cut this matter short, I will tell you all, +that yesterday we had with us a runaway from Silver-dale (it is +overlong to tell how we fell in with her; for it was a +woman). But she told us that this very moon is a new tribe +come into the Dale, six long hundreds in number, and twice as +many more are looked for in two eights of days, and that ere this +moon hath waned, that is, in twenty-four days, they will wend +their ways straight for Burgdale, for they know the ways +thereto. So I say that Face-of-god is right in all +wise. But tell me, brother, hast thou thought of how we +shall come upon these men?’</p> +<p>‘How many men wilt thou lead into battle?’ said +Face-of-god.</p> +<p>Folk-might reddened, and said: ‘A few, a few; maybe +two-hundreds all told.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, ‘but some special +gain wilt thou be to us.’</p> +<p><a name="page258"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +258</span>‘So I deem at least,’ said Folk-might.</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Good is that. Now have we held +our Weapon-show in the Dale, and we find that we together with +you be sixteen long hundreds of men; and the tale of the foemen +that be now in Silver-dale, new-comers and all, shall be three +thousands or thereabout, and in Rose-dale hard on a +thousand.’</p> +<p>‘Scarce so many,’ said Folk-might; ‘some of +the felons have died; we told over our silver arm-rings +yesterday, and the tale was three hundred and eighty and +six. Besides, they were never so many as thou +deemest.’</p> +<p>‘Well,’ said Face-of-god, ‘yet at least they +shall outnumber us sorely. We may scarce leave the Dale +unguarded when our host is gone; therefore I deem that we shall +have but one thousand of men for our onslaught on +Silver-dale.’</p> +<p>‘How come ye to that?’ said Stone-face.</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Abide a while, fosterer! Though +the odds between us be great, it is not to be hidden that I wot +how ye of the Wolf know of privy passes into Silver-dale; yea, +into the heart thereof; and this is the special gain ye have to +give us. Therefore we, the thousand men, falling on the foe +unawares, shall make a great slaughter of them; and if the murder +be but grim enough, those thralls of theirs shall fear us and not +them, as already they hate them and not us, so that we may look +to them for rooting out these sorry weeds after the +overthrow. And what with one thing, what with another, we +may cherish a good hope of clearing Silver-dale at one stroke +with the said thousand men.</p> +<p>‘There remaineth Rose-dale, which will be easier to deal +with, because the Dusky Men therein are fewer and the thralls as +many: that also would I fall on at the same time as we fall on +Silver-dale with the men that are left over from the Silver-dale +onslaught. Wherefore my rede is, that we gather all those +unmeet for battle in the field into this Burg, with ten tens of +men to strengthen them; which shall be enough for them, along +with the old men, and lads, and sturdy women, to defend +themselves till help comes, if aught <a name="page259"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 259</span>of evil befall, or to flee into the +mountains, or at the worst to die valiantly. Then let the +other five hundreds fare up to Rose-dale, and fall on the Dusky +Men therein about the same time, but not before our onslaught on +Silver-dale: thus shall hand help foot, so that stumbling be not +falling; and we may well hope that our rede shall +thrive.’</p> +<p>Then was he silent, and the Sun-beam looked upon him with +gleaming eyes and parted lips, waiting eagerly to hear what +Folk-might would say. He held his peace a while, drumming +on the board with his fingers, and none else spake a word. +At last he said:</p> +<p>‘War-leader of Burgdale, all that thou hast spoken likes +me well, and even so must it be done, saving that parting of our +host and sending one part to fall upon Rose-dale. I say, +nay; let us put all our might into that one stroke on +Silver-dale, and then we are undone indeed if we fail; but so +shall we be if we fail anywise; but if we win Silver-dale, then +shall Rose-dale lie open before us.’</p> +<p>‘My brother,’ said Face-of-god, ‘thou art a +tried warrior, and I but a lad: but dost thou not see this, that +whatever we do, we shall not at one onslaught slay all the Dusky +Men of Silver-dale, and those that flee before us shall betake +them to Rose-dale, and tell all the tale, and what shall hinder +them then from falling on Burgdale (since they are no great way +from it) after they have murdered what they will of the unhappy +people under their hands?’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘I say not but that there is a risk +thereof, but in war we must needs run such risks, and all should +be risked rather than that our blow on Silver-dale be +light. For we be the fewer; and if the foemen have time to +call that to mind, then are we all lost.’</p> +<p>Said Stone-face: ‘Meseemeth, War-leader, that there is +nought much to dread in leaving Rose-dale to itself for a while; +for not only may we follow hard on the fleers if they flee to +Rose-dale, and be there no long time after them, before they have +time to stir <a name="page260"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +260</span>their host; but also after the overthrow we shall be +free to send men back to Burgdale by way of Shadowy Vale. I +deem that herein Folk-might hath the right of it.’</p> +<p>‘Even so say I,’ said the Alderman; +‘besides, we might theft leave more folk behind us for the +warding of the Dale. So, son, the risk whereof thou +speakest groweth the lesser the longer it is looked +on.’</p> +<p>Then spake the Dale-warden: ‘Yet saving your wisdom, +Alderman, the risk is there yet. For if these felons come +into the Dale at all, even if the folk left behind hold the Burg +and keep themselves unmurdered, yet may they not hinder the foe +from spoiling our homesteads; so that our folk coming back in +triumph shall find ruin at home, and spend weary days in hunting +their foemen, who shall, many of them, escape into the +Wild-wood.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said the Sun-beam, ‘sooth is that; +and Face-of-god is wise to think of it and of other +matters. Yet one thing we must bear in mind, that all may +not go smoothly in our day’s work in Silver-dale; so we +must have force there to fall back on, in case we miss our stroke +at first. Therefore, I say, send we no man to Rose-dale, +and leave we no able man-at-arms behind in the Burg, so that we +have with us every blade that may be gathered.’</p> +<p>Iron-face smiled and said: ‘Thou art wise, damsel; and I +marvel that so fair-fashioned a thing as thou can think so hardly +of the meeting of the fallow blades. But hearken! will not +the Dusky Men hear that we have stripped the Dale of +fighting-men, and may they not then give our host the go-by and +send folk to ruin us?’</p> +<p>There was silence while Face-of-god looked down on the board; +but presently he lifted up his face and said:</p> +<p>‘Folk-might was right when he said that all must be +risked. Let us leave Rose-dale till we have overcome them +of Silver-dale. Moreover, my father, thou must not deem of +these felons as if they were of like wits to us, to forecast the +deeds to come, and weigh the chances nicely, and unravel tangled +clews. Rather they move <a name="page261"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 261</span>like to the stares in autumn, or the +winter wild-geese, and will all be thrust forward by some sting +that entereth into their imaginations. Therefore, if they +have appointed one moon to wear before they fall upon us, they +will not stir till then, and we have time enough to do what must +be done. Wherefore am I now of one mind with the rest of +you. Now meseemeth it were well that these things which we +have spoken here, and shall speak, should not be noised abroad +openly; nay, at the Folk-mote it would be well that nought be +said about the day or the way of our onslaught on Silver-dale, +lest the foe take warning and be on their guard. Though, +sooth to say, did I deem that if they had word of our intent they +of Rose-dale would join themselves to them of Silver-dale, and +that we should thus have all our foes in one net, then were I +fain if the word would reach them. For my soul loathes the +hunting that shall befall up and down the wood for the slaying of +a man here, and two or three there, and the wearing of the days +in wandering up and down with weapons in the hand, and the +spinning out of hatred and delaying of peace.’</p> +<p>Then Iron-face reached his hand across the board and took his +son’s hand, and said:</p> +<p>‘Hail to thee, son, for thy word! Herein thou +speakest as if from my very soul, and fain am I of such a +War-leader.’</p> +<p>And desire drew the eyes of the Sun-beam to Face-of-god, and +she beheld him proudly. But he said:</p> +<p>‘All hath been spoken that the others of us may speak; +and now it falleth to the part of Folk-might to order our goings +for the tryst for the onslaught, and the trysting-place shall be +in Shadowy Vale. How sayest thou, Chief of the +Wolf?’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘I have little to say; and it is for +the War-leader to see to this closely and piecemeal. I +deem, as we all deem, that there should be no delay; yet were it +best to wend not all together to Shadowy Vale, but in divers +bands, as soon as ye may after the Folk-mote, by the sure and +nigh ways that we shall show you. And when we are gathered +there, short is the rede, for all <a name="page262"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 262</span>is ready there to wend by the passes +which we know throughly, and whereby it is but two days’ +journey to the head of Silver-dale, nigh to the caves of the +silver, where the felons dwell the thickest.’</p> +<p>He set his teeth, and his colour came and went: for as +constantly as the onslaught had been in his mind, yet whenever he +spake of the great day of battle, hope and joy and anger wrought +a tumult in his soul; and now that it was so nigh withal, he +could not refrain his joy.</p> +<p>But he spake again: ‘Now therefore, War-leader, it is +for thee to order the goings of thy folk. But I will tell +thee that they shall not need to take aught with them save their +weapons and victual for the way, that is, for thirty hours; +because all is ready for them in Shadowy Vale, though it be but a +poor place as to victual. Canst thou tell us, therefore, +what thou wilt do?’</p> +<p>Face-of-god had knit his brows and become gloomy of +countenance; but now his face cleared, and he set his hand to his +pouch, and drew forth a written parchment, and said:</p> +<p>‘This is the order whereof I have bethought me. +Before the Folk-mote I and the Wardens shall speak to the leaders +of hundreds, who be mostly here at the Fair, and give them the +day and the hour whereon they shall, each hundred, take their +weapons and wend to Shadowy Vale, and also the place where they +shall meet the men of yours who shall lead them across the +Waste. These hundred-leaders shall then go straightway and +give the word to the captains of scores, and the captains of +scores to the captains of tens; and if, as is scarce doubtful, +the Folk-mote yea-says the onslaught and the fellowship with you +of the Wolf, then shall those leaders of tens bring their men to +the trysting-place, and so go their ways to Shadowy Vale. +Now here I have the roll of our Weapon-show, and I will look to +it that none shall be passed over; and if ye ask me in what order +they had best get on the way, my rede is that a two hundred +should depart on the very evening of the day of the Folk-mote, +and these to be of our <a name="page263"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 263</span>folk of the Upper Dale; and on the +morning of the morrow of the Folk-mote another two hundreds from +the Dale; and in the evening of the same day the folk of the +Shepherds, three hundreds or more, and that will be easy to them; +again on the next day two more bands of the Lower Dale, one in +the morning, one in the evening. Lastly, in the earliest +dawn of the third day from the Folk-mote shall the Woodlanders +wend their ways. But one hundred of men let us leave behind +for the warding of the Burg, even as we agreed before. As +for the place of tryst for the faring over the Waste, let it be +the end of the knolls just by the jaws of the pass yonder, where +the Weltering Water comes into the Dale from the East. How +say ye?’</p> +<p>They all said, and Folk-might especially, that it was right +well devised, and that thus it should be done.</p> +<p>Then turned Face-of-god to the Dale-warden, and said:</p> +<p>‘It were good, brother, that we saw the other wardens as +soon as may be, to do them to wit of this order, and what they +have to do.’</p> +<p>Therewith he arose and took the Elder of the Dale-wardens away +with him, and the twain set about their business +straight-way. Neither did the others abide long in the +Hall, but went out into the Burg to see the chapmen and their +wares. There the Alderman bought what he needed of iron and +steel and other matters; and Folk-might cheapened him a dagger +curiously wrought, and a web of gold and silk for the Sun-beam, +for which wares he paid in silver arm-rings, new-wrought and of +strange fashion.</p> +<p>But amidst of the chaffer was now a great ring of men; and in +the midst of the ring stood Redesman, fiddle and bow in hand, and +with him were four damsels wondrously arrayed; for the first was +clad in a smock so craftily wrought with threads of green and +many colours, that it seemed like a piece of the green field +beset with primroses and cowslips and harebells and windflowers, +rather than a garment woven and sewn; and in her hand she bore a +<a name="page264"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 264</span>naked +sword, with golden hilts and gleaming blade. But the second +bore on her roses done in like manner, both blossoms and green +leaves, wherewith her body was covered decently, which else had +been naked. The third was clad as though she were wading +the wheat-field to the waist, and above was wrapped in the leaves +and bunches of the wine-tree. And the fourth was clad in a +scarlet gown flecked with white wool to set forth the +winter’s snow, and broidered over with the burning brands +of the Holy Hearth; and she bore on her head a garland of +mistletoe. And these four damsels were clearly seen to +image the four seasons of the year—Spring, Summer, Autumn, +and Winter. But amidst them stood a fountain or conduit of +gilded work cunningly wrought, and full of the best wine of the +Dale, and gilded cups and beakers hung about it.</p> +<p>So now Redesman fell to caressing his fiddle with the bow till +it began to make sweet music, and therewith the hearts of all +danced with it; and presently words come into his mouth, and he +fell to singing; and the damsels answered him:</p> +<p class="poetry">Earth-wielders, that fashion the +Dale-dwellers’ treasure,<br /> + Soft are ye by seeming, yet hardy of heart!<br /> +No warrior amongst us withstandeth your pleasure;<br /> + No man from his meadow may thrust you apart.</p> +<p class="poetry">Fresh and fair are your bodies, but far beyond +telling<br /> + Are the years of your lives, and the craft ye have +stored.<br /> +Come give us a word, then, concerning our dwelling,<br /> + And the days to befall us, the fruit of the +sword.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Winter saith</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">When last in the feast-hall the Yule-fire +flickered,<br /> + The foot of no foeman fared over the snow,<br /> +And nought but the wind with the ash-branches bickered:<br /> + Next Yule ye may deem it a long time ago.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page265"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 265</span><i>Autumn saith</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">Loud laughed ye last year in the wheat-field +a-smiting;<br /> + And ye laughed as your backs drave the beam of the +press.<br /> +When the edge of the war-sword the acres are lighting<br /> + Look up to the Banner and laugh ye no less.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Summer saith</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">Ye called and I came, and how good was the +greeting,<br /> + When ye wrapped me in roses both bosom and side!<br +/> +Here yet shall I long, and be fain of our meeting,<br /> + As hidden from battle your coming I bide.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Spring saith</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">I am here for your comfort, and lo! what I +carry;<br /> + The blade with the bright edges bared to the sun.<br +/> +To the field, to the work then, that e’en I may tarry<br /> + For the end of the tale in my first days begun!</p> +<p>Therewith the throng opened, and a young man stepped lightly +into the ring, clad in very fair armour, with a gilded helm on +his head; and he took the sword from the hand of the Maiden of +Spring, and waved it in the air till the westering sun flashed +back from it. Then each of the four damsels went up to the +swain and kissed his mouth; and Redesman drew the bow across the +strings, and the four damsels sang together, standing round about +the young warrior:</p> +<p class="poetry">It was but a while since for earth’s sake +we trembled,<br /> + Lest the increase our life-days had won for the +Dale,<br /> +All the wealth that the moons and the years had assembled,<br /> + Should be but a mock for the days of your bale.</p> +<p class="poetry">But now we behold the sun smite on the token<br +/> + In the hand of the Champion, the heart of a man;<br +/> +<a name="page266"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 266</span>We look +down the long years and see them unbroken;<br /> + Forth fareth the Folk by the ways it began.</p> +<p class="poetry">So bid ye these chapmen in autumn returning,<br +/> + To bring iron for ploughshares and steel for the +scythe,<br /> +And the over-sea oil that hath felt the sun’s burning,<br +/> + And fair webs for your women soft-spoken and +blithe;</p> +<p class="poetry">And pledge ye your word in the market to meet +them,<br /> + As many a man and as many a maid,<br /> +As eager as ever, as guest-fain to greet them,<br /> + And bide till the booth from the waggon is made.</p> +<p class="poetry">Come, guests of our lovers! for we, the +year-wielders,<br /> + Bid each man and all to come hither and take<br /> +A cup from our hands midst the peace of our shielders,<br /> + And drink to the days of the Dale that we make.</p> +<p>Then went the damsels to that wine-fountain, and drew thence +cups of the best and brightest wine of the Dale, and went round +about the ring, and gave drink to whomsoever would, both of the +chapmen and the others; while the weaponed youth stood in the +midst bearing aloft his sword and shield like an image in a holy +place, and Redesman’s bow still went up and down the +strings, and drew forth a sweet and merry tune.</p> +<p>Great game it was now to see the stark Burgdale carles +dragging the Men of the Plain, little loth, up to the front of +the ring, that they might stretch out their hands for a cup, and +how many a one, as he took it, took as much as he might of the +damsel’s hand withal. As for the damsels, they played +the Holy Play very daintily, neither reddening nor laughing, but +faring so solemnly, and withal so sweetly and bright-faced, that +it might well have been deemed that they were in very sooth +Maidens of the God of Earth sent from the ever-enduring Hall to +cheer the hearts of men.</p> +<p>So simply and blithely did the Men of Burgdale disport them <a +name="page267"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 267</span>after the +manner of their fathers, trusting in their valour and beholding +the good days to be.</p> +<p>So wore the evening, and when night was come, men feasted +throughout the Burg from house to house, and every hall was +full. But the Guests from Shadowy Vale feasted in the Hall +of the Face in all glee and goodwill; and with them were the +chief of the chapmen and two others; but the rest of them had +been laid hold of by goodmen of the Burg, and dragged into their +feast-halls, for they were fain of those guests and their +tales. One of the chapmen in the House of the Face knew +Folk-might, and hailed him by the name he had borne in the +Cities, Regulus to wit; indeed, the chief chapman knew him, and +even somewhat over-well, for he had been held to ransom by +Folk-might in those past days, and even yet feared him, because +he, the chapman, had played somewhat of a dastard’s part to +him. But the other was an open-hearted and merry fellow, +and no weakling; and Folk-might was fain of his talk concerning +times bygone, and the fields they had foughten in, and other +adventures that had befallen them, both good and evil.</p> +<p>As for Face-of-god, he went about the Hall soberly, and spake +no more than behoved him, so as not to seem a mar-feast; for the +image of the slaughter to be yet abode with him, and his heart +foreboded the after-grief of the battle. He had no speech +with the Sun-beam till men were sundering after the feast, and +then he came close to her amidst of the turmoil, and said:</p> +<p>‘Time presses on me these days; but if thou wouldest +speak with me to-morrow as I would with thee, then mightest thou +go on the Bridge of the Burg about sunrise, and I will be there, +and we two only.’</p> +<p>Her face, which had been somewhat sad that evening (for she +had been watching his), brightened at that word, and she took his +hand as folk came thronging round about them, and said:</p> +<p>‘Yea, friend, I shall be there, and fain of +thee.’ And therewithal they sundered for that +night.</p> +<p><a name="page268"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 268</span>And +all men went to sleep throughout the Burg: howbeit they set a +watch at the Burg-Gate; and Hall-face, when he was coming back +from the woodland ward about sunset, fell in with Redcoat of +Waterless and four score men on the Portway coming to meet him +and take his place. All which was clean contrary to the +wont of the Burgdalers, who at most whiles held no watch and +ward, not even in Fair-time.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXV. FACE-OF-GOD TALKETH WITH THE +SUN-BEAM.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Face-of-God</span> was at the Bridge on +the morrow before sun-rising, and as he turned about at the +Bridge-foot he saw the Sun-beam coming down the street; and his +heart rose to his mouth at the sight of her, and he went to meet +her and took her by the hand; and there were no words between +them till they had kissed and caressed each other, for there was +no one stirring about them. So they went over the Bridge +into the meadows, and eastward of the beaten path thereover.</p> +<p>The grass was growing thick and strong, and it was full of +flowers, as the cowslip and the oxlip, and the chequered +daffodil, and the wild tulip: the black-thorn was well-nigh done +blooming, but the hawthorn was in bud, and in some places growing +white. It was a fair morning, warm and cloudless, but the +night had been misty, and the haze still hung about the meadows +of the Dale where they were wettest, and the grass and its +flowers were heavy with dew, so that the Sun-beam went barefoot +in the meadow. She had a dark cloak cast over her kirtle, +and had left her glittering gown behind her in the House.</p> +<p>They went along hand in hand exceeding fain of each other, and +the sun rose as they went, and the long beams of gold shone +through the tops of the tall trees across the grass they trod, +and a light wind rose up in the north, as Face-of-god stayed a +moment <a name="page269"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +269</span>and turned toward the Face of the Sun and prayed to +Him, while the Sun-beam’s hand left the War-leader’s +hand and stole up to his golden locks and lay amongst them.</p> +<p>Presently they went on, and the feet of Face-of-god led him +unwitting toward the chestnut grove by the old dyke where he had +met the Bride such a little while ago, till he bethought whither +he was going and stopped short and reddened; and the Sun-beam +noted it, but spake not; but he said: ‘Hereby is a fair +place for us to sit and talk till the day’s work +beginneth.’</p> +<p>So then he turned aside, and soon they came to a hawthorn +brake out of which arose a great tall-stemmed oak, showing no +green as yet save a little on its lower twigs; and anigh it, yet +with room for its boughs to grow freely, was a great bird-cherry +tree, all covered now with sweet-smelling white blossoms. +There they sat down on the trunk of a tree felled last year, and +she cast off her cloak, and took his face between her two hands +and kissed him long and fondly, and for a while their joy had no +word. But when speech came to them, it was she that spake +first and said:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane, my dear, sorely I wonder at thee and at me, +how we are changed since that day last autumn when I first saw +thee. Whiles I think, didst thou not laugh when thou wert +by thyself that day, and mock at me privily, that I must needs +take such wisdom on myself, and lesson thee standing like a +stripling before me. Dost thou not call it all to mind and +make merry over it, now that thou art become a great chieftain +and a wise warrior, and I am yet what I always was, a young +maiden of the kindred; save that now I abide no longer for my +love?’</p> +<p>Her face was exceeding bright and rippled with joyous smiles, +and he looked at her and deemed that her heart was overflowing +with happiness, and he wondered at her indeed that she was so +glad of him, and he said:</p> +<p>‘Yea, indeed, oft do I see that morning in the woodland +hall and thee and me therein, as one looketh on a picture; yea +verily, <a name="page270"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +270</span>and I laugh, yet is it for very bliss; neither do I +mock at all. Did I not deem thee a God then? and am I not +most happy now when I can call it thus to mind? And as to +thee, thou wert wise then, and yet art thou wise now. Yea, +I thought thee a God; and if we are changed, is it not rather +that thou hast lifted me up to thee, and not come down to +me?’</p> +<p>Yet therewithal he knit his brows somewhat and said:</p> +<p>‘Yet thou hast not to tell me that all thy love for thy +Folk, and thy yearning hope for its recoverance, was but a +painted show. Else why shouldst thou love me the better now +that I am become a chieftain, and therefore am more meet to +understand thy hope and thy sorrow? Did I not behold thee +as we stood before the Wolf of the Hall of Shadowy Vale, how the +tears stood in thine eyes as thou beheldest him, and thine hand +in mine quivered and clung to me, and thou wert all changed in a +moment of time? Was all this then but a seeming and a +beguilement?’</p> +<p>‘O young man,’ she said, ‘hast thou not said +it, that we stood there close together, and my hand in thine and +desire growing up in me? Dost thou not know how this also +quickeneth the story of our Folk, and our goodwill towards the +living, and remembrance of the dead? Shall they have lived +and desired, and we deny desire and life? Or tell me: what +was it made thee so chieftain-like in the Hall yesterday, so that +thou wert the master of all our wills, for as self-willed as some +of us were? Was it not that I, whom thou deemest lovely, +was thereby watching thee and rejoicing in thee? Did not +the sweetness of thy love quicken thee? Yet because of that +was thy warrior’s wisdom and thy foresight an empty +show? Heedest thou nought the Folk of the Dale? +Wouldest thou sunder from the children of the Fathers, and dwell +amongst strangers?’</p> +<p>He kissed her and smiled on her and said: ‘Did I not say +of thee that thou wert wiser than the daughters of men? See +how wise thou hast made me!’</p> +<p><a name="page271"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 271</span>She +spake again: ‘Nay, nay, there was no feigning in my love +for my people. How couldest thou think it, when the Fathers +and the kindred have made this body that thou lovest, and the +voice of their songs is in the speech thou deemest +sweet?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Sweet friend, I deemed not that there was +feigning in thee: I was but wondering what I am and how I was +fashioned, that I should make thee so glad that thou couldst for +a while forget thy hope of the days before we met.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘O how glad, how glad! Yet was I nought +hapless. In despite of all trouble I had no down-weighing +grief, and I had the hope of my people before me. Good were +my days; but I knew not till now how glad a child of man may +be.’</p> +<p>Their words were hushed for a while amidst their +caresses. Then she said:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane, my friend, I mocked not my past self because +I deem that I was a fool then, but because I see now that all +that my wisdom could do, would have come about without my wisdom; +and that thou, deeming thyself something less than wise, didst +accomplish the thing I craved, and that which thou didst crave +also; and withal wisdom embraced thee, along with +love.’</p> +<p>Therewith she cast her arms about him and said:</p> +<p>‘O friend, I mock myself of this: that erst thou +deemedst me a God and fearedst me, but now thou seemest to me to +be a God, and I fear thee. Yea, though I have longed so +sore to be with thee since the day of Shadowy Vale, and though I +have wearied of the slow wearing of the days, and it hath +tormented me; yet now that I am with thee, I bless the torment of +my longing; for it is but my longing that compelleth me to cast +away my fear of thee and caress thee, because I have learned how +sweet it is to love thee thus.’</p> +<p>He wound his arms about her, and sweeter was their longing +than mere joy; and though their love was beyond measure, yet was +therein no shame to aught, not even to the lovely Dale and that +fair season of spring, so goodly they were among the children of +men.</p> +<p><a name="page272"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 272</span>In a +while they arose and turned homeward, and went over the open +meadow, and it was yet early, and the dew was as heavy on the +grass as before, though the wide sunlight was now upon it, +glittering on the wet blades, and shining through the bells of +the chequered daffodils till they looked like gouts of blood.</p> +<p>‘Look,’ said Sun-beam, as they went along by the +same way whereas they came, ‘deemest thou not that other +speech-friends besides us have been abroad to talk together apart +on this morning of the eve of battle. It is nought +unwonted, that we do, even though we forget the trouble of the +people to think of our own joy for a while.’</p> +<p>The smile died out of her face as she spoke, and she said:</p> +<p>‘O friend, this much may I say for myself in all sooth, +that indeed I would die for the kindred and its good days, nor +falter therein; but if I am to die, might I but die in thine +arms!’</p> +<p>He looked very lovingly on her, and put his arm about her and +kissed her and said: ‘What ails us to stand in the +doom-ring and bear witness against ourselves before the +kindred? Now I will say, that whatsoever the kindred may or +can call upon me to do, that will I do, nor grudge the deed: I am +sackless before them. But that is true which I spake to +thee when we came together up out of Shadowy Vale, to wit, that I +am no strifeful man, but a peaceful; and I look to it to win +through this war, and find on the other side either death, or +life amongst a happy folk; and I deem that this is mostly the +mind of our people.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Thou shalt not die, thou shalt not +die!’</p> +<p>‘Mayhappen not,’ he said; ‘yet yesterday I +could not but look into the slaughter to come, and it seemed to +me a grim thing, and darkened the day for me; and I grew acold as +a man walking with the dead. But tell me: thou sayest I +shall not die; dost thou say this only because I am become dear +to thee, or dost thou speak it out of thy foresight of things to +come?’</p> +<p>She stopped and looked silently a while over the meadows +towards the houses of the Thorp: they were standing now on <a +name="page273"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 273</span>the border +of a shallow brook that ran down toward the Weltering Water; it +had a little strand of fine sand like the sea-shore, driven close +together, and all moist, because that brook was used to flood the +meadow for the feeding of the grass; and the last evening the +hatches which held up the water had been drawn, so that much had +ebbed away and left the strand aforesaid.</p> +<p>After a while the Sun-beam turned to Face-of-god, and she was +become somewhat pale; she said:</p> +<p>‘Nay, I have striven to see, and can see nought save the +picture of hope and fear that I make for myself. So it oft +befalleth foreseeing women, that the love of a man cloudeth their +vision. Be content, dear friend; it is for life or death; +but whichso it be, the same for me and thee together?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ he said, ‘and well content I am; so +now let each of us trust in the other to be both good and dear, +even as I trusted in thee the first hour that I looked on +thee.’</p> +<p>‘It is well,’ she said; ‘it is well. +How fair thou art; and how fair is the morn, and this our Dale in +the goodly season; and all this abideth us when the battle is +over.’</p> +<p>Once more her voice became sweet and wheedling, and the smile +lit up her face again, and she pointed down to the sand with her +finger, and said:</p> +<p>‘See thou! Here indeed have other lovers passed by +across the brook. Shall we wish them good luck?’</p> +<p>He laughed and looked down on the sand, and said:</p> +<p>‘Thou art in haste to make a story up. Indeed I +see that these first footprints are of a woman, for no carle of +the Dale has a foot as small; for we be tall fellows; and these +others withal are a man’s footprints; and if they showed +that they had been walking side by side, simple had been thy +tale; but so it is not. I cannot say that these two pairs +of feet went over the brook within five minutes of each other; +but sure it is that they could not have been faring side by +side. Well, belike they were lovers bickering, and we may +wish them luck out of that. Truly <a +name="page274"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 274</span>it is well +seen that Bow-may hath done thine hunting for thee, dear friend; +or else wouldest thou have lacked venison; for thou hast no +hunter’s eye.’</p> +<p>‘Well,’ she said, ‘but wish them luck, and +give me thine hand upon it.’</p> +<p>He took her hand, and fondled it, and said: ‘By this +hand of my speech-friend, I wish these twain all luck, in love +and in leisure, in faring and fighting, in sowing and samming, in +getting and giving. Is it well enough wished? If so +it be, then come thy ways, dear friend; for the day’s work +is at hand.’</p> +<p>‘It is well wished,’ she said. ‘Now +hearken: by the valiant hand of the War-leader, by the hand that +shall unloose my girdle, I wish these twain to be as happy as we +be.’</p> +<p>He made as if to draw her away, but she hung aback to set the +print of her foot beside the woman’s foot, and then they +went on together, and soon crossed the Bridge, and came home to +the House of the Face.</p> +<p>When they had broken their fast, Face-of-god would straight +get to his business of ordering matters for the warfare, and was +wishful to speak with Folk-might; but found him not, either in +the House or the street. But a man said:</p> +<p>‘I saw the tall Guest come abroad from the House and go +toward the Bridge very early in the morning.’</p> +<p>The Sun-beam, who was anigh when that was spoken, heard it and +smiled, and said: ‘Gold-mane, deemest thou that it was my +brother whom we blessed?’</p> +<p>‘I wot not,’ he said; ‘but I would he were +here, for this gear must speedily be looked to.’</p> +<p>Nevertheless it was nigh an hour before Folk-might came home +to the House. He strode in lightly and gaily, and shaking +the crest of his war-helm as he went. He looked friendly on +Face-of-god, and said to him:</p> +<p>‘Thou hast been seeking me, War-leader; but grudge it +not that I have caused thee to tarry. For as things have +gone, I am <a name="page275"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +275</span>twice the man for thine helping that I was yester-eve; +and thou art so ready and deft, that all will be done in due +time.’</p> +<p>He looked as if he would have had Face-of-god ask of him what +made him so fain, but Face-of-god said only:</p> +<p>‘I am glad of thy gladness; but now let us dally no +longer, for I have many folk to see to-day and much to set +a-going.’</p> +<p>So therewith they spake together a while, and then went their +ways together toward Carlstead and the Woodlanders.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI. FOLK-MIGHT SPEAKETH WITH THE BRIDE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> must be told that those +footprints which Face-of-god and the Sun-beam had blessed betwixt +jest and earnest had more to do with them than they wotted +of. For Folk-might, who had had many thoughts and longings +since he had seen the Bride again, rose up early about sunrise, +and went out-a-doors, and wandered about the Burg, letting his +eyes stray over the goodly stone houses and their trim gardens, +yet noting them little, since the Bride was not there.</p> +<p>At last he came to where there was an open place, +straight-sided, longer than it was wide, with a wall on each side +of it, over which showed the blossomed boughs of pear and cherry +and plum-trees: on either hand before the wall was a row of great +lindens, now showing their first tender green, especially on +their lower twigs, where they were sheltered by the wall. +At the nether end of this place Folk-might saw a grey stone +house, and he went towards it betwixt the lindens, for it seemed +right great, and presently was but a score of paces from its +door, and as yet there was no man, carle or queen, stirring about +it.</p> +<p>It was a long low house with a very steep roof; but belike the +hall was built over some undercroft, for many steps went up to +the door on either hand; and the doorway was low, with a <a +name="page276"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 276</span>straight +lintel under its arch. This house, like the House of the +Face, seemed ancient and somewhat strange, and Folk-might could +not choose but take note of it. The front was all of good +ashlar work, but it was carven all over, without heed being paid +to the joints of the stones, into one picture of a flowery +meadow, with tall trees and bushes in it, and fowl perched in the +trees and running through the grass, and sheep and kine and oxen +and horses feeding down the meadow; and over the door at the top +of the stair was wrought a great steer bigger than all the other +neat, whose head was turned toward the sun-rising and uplifted +with open mouth, as though he were lowing aloud. Exceeding +fair seemed that house to Folk-might, and as though it were the +dwelling of some great kindred.</p> +<p>But he had scarce gone over it with his eyes, and was just +about to draw nigher yet to it, when the door at the top of those +steps opened, and a woman came out of the house clad in a green +kirtle and a gown of brazil, with a golden-hilted sword girt to +her side. Folk-might saw at once that it was the Bride, and +drew aback behind one of the trees so that she might not see him, +if she had not already seen him, as it seemed not that she had, +for she stayed but for a moment on the top of the stair, looking +out down the tree-rows, and then came down the stair and went +soberly along the road, passing so close to Folk-might that he +could see the fashion of her beauty closely, as one looks into +the work of some deftest artificer. Then it came suddenly +into his head that he would follow her and see whither she was +wending. ‘At least,’ said he to himself, +‘if I come not to speech with her, I shall be nigh unto +her, and shall see somewhat of her beauty.’</p> +<p>So he came out quietly from behind the tree, and followed her +softly; and he was clad in no garment save his kirtle, and bare +no weapons to clash and jingle, though he had his helm on his +head for lack of a softer hat. He kept her well in sight, +and she went straight onward and looked not back. She went +by the way <a name="page277"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +277</span>whereas he had come, till they were in the main street, +wherein as yet was no one afoot; she made her way to the Bridge, +and passed over it into the meadows; but when she had gone but a +few steps, she stayed a little and looked on the ground, and as +she did so turned a little toward Folk-might, who had drawn back +into the last of the refuges over the up-stream buttresses. +He saw that there was a half-smile on her face, but he could not +tell whether she were glad or sorry. A light wind was +beginning to blow, that stirred her raiment and raised a lock of +hair that had strayed from the golden fillet round about her +head, and she looked most marvellous fair.</p> +<p>Now she looked along the grass that glittered under the beams +of the newly-risen sun, and noted belike how heavy the dew lay on +it; and the grass was high already, for the spring had been hot, +and haysel would be early in the Dale. So she put off her +shoes, that were of deerskin and broidered with golden threads, +and turned somewhat from the way, and hung them up amidst the new +green leaves of a hawthorn bush that stood nearby, and so went +thwart the meadow somewhat eastward straight from that bush, and +her feet shone out like pearls amidst the deep green grass.</p> +<p>Folk-might followed presently, and she stayed not again, nor +turned, nor beheld him; he recked not if she had, for then would +he have come up with her and hailed her, and he knew that she was +no foolish maiden to start at the sight of a man who was the +friend of her Folk.</p> +<p>So they went their ways till she came to the strand of the +water-meadow brook aforesaid, and she went through the little +ripples of the shallow without staying, and on through the tall +deep grass of the meadow beyond, to where they met the brook +again; for it swept round the meadow in a wide curve, and turned +back toward itself; so it was some half furlong over from water +to water.</p> +<p>She stood a while on the brink of the brook here, which was +brim-full and nigh running into the grass, because there was a +dam <a name="page278"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 278</span>just +below the place; and Folk-might drew nigher to her under cover of +the thorn-bushes, and looked at the place about her and beyond +her. The meadow beyond stream was very fair and flowery, +but not right great; for it was bounded by a grove of ancient +chestnut trees, that went on and on toward the southern cliffs of +the Dale: in front of the chestnut wood stood a broken row of +black-thorn bushes, now growing green and losing their blossom, +and he could see betwixt them that there was a grassy bank +running along, as if there had once been a turf-wall and ditch +round about the chestnut trees. For indeed this was the old +place of tryst between Gold-mane and the Bride, whereof the tale +hath told before.</p> +<p>The Bride stayed scarce longer than gave him time to note all +this; but he deemed that she was weeping, though he could not +rightly see her face; for her shoulders heaved, and she hung her +face adown and put up her hands to it. But now she went a +little higher up the stream, where the water was shallower, and +waded the stream and went up over the meadow, still weeping, as +he deemed, and went between the black-thorn bushes, and sat her +down on the grassy bank with her back to the chestnut trees.</p> +<p>Folk-might was ashamed to have seen her weeping, and was +half-minded to turn him back again at once; but love constrained +him, and he said to himself, ‘Where shall I see her again +privily if I pass by this time and place?’ So he +waited a little till he deemed she might have mastered the +passion of tears, and then came forth from his bush, and went +down to the water and crossed it, and went quietly over the +meadow straight towards her. But he was not half-way +across, when she lifted up her face from between her hands and +beheld the man coming. She neither started nor rose up; but +straightened herself as she sat, and looked right into +Folk-might’s eyes as he drew near, though the tears were +not dry on her cheeks.</p> +<p>Now he stood before her, and said: ‘Hail to the Daughter +of a mighty House! Mayst thou live happy!’</p> +<p><a name="page279"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 279</span>She +answered: ‘Hail to thee also, Guest of our Folk! Hast +thou been wandering about our meadows, and happened on me +perchance?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ he said; ‘I saw thee come forth from +the House of the Steer, and I followed thee hither.’</p> +<p>She reddened a little, and knit her brow, and said:</p> +<p>‘Thou wilt have something to say to me?’</p> +<p>‘I have much to say to thee,’ he said; ‘yet +it was sweet to me to behold thee, even if I might not speak with +thee.’</p> +<p>She looked on him with her deep simple eyes, and neither +reddened again, nor seemed wroth; then she said:</p> +<p>‘Speak what thou hast in thine heart, and I will hearken +without anger whatsoever it may be; even if thou hast but to tell +me of the passing folly of a mighty man, which in a month or two +he will not remember for sorrow or for joy. Sit here beside +me, and tell me thy thought.’</p> +<p>So he sat him adown and said: ‘Yea, I have much to say +to thee, but it is hard to me to say it. But this I will +say: to-day and yesterday make the third time I have seen +thee. The first time thou wert happy and calm, and no +shadow of trouble was on thee; the second time thine happy days +were waning, though thou scarce knewest it; but to-day and +yesterday thou art constrained by the bonds of grief, and +wouldest loosen them if thou mightest.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘What meanest thou? How knowest thou +this? How may a stranger partake in my joy and my +sorrow?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘As for yesterday, all the people might see thy +grief and know it. But when I beheld thee the first time, I +saw thee that thou wert more fair and lovely than all other +women; and when I was away from thee, the thought of thee and +thine image were with me, and I might not put them away; and oft +at such and such a time I wondered and said to myself, what is +she doing now? though god wot I was dealing with tangles and +troubles and rough deeds enough. But the second time I +beheld thee, when I had looked to have great joy in the sight of +thee, my heart was <a name="page280"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +280</span>smitten with a pang of grief; for I saw thee hanging on +the words and the looks of another man, who was light-minded +toward thee, and that thou wert troubled with the anguish of +doubt and fear. And he knew it not, nor saw it, though I +saw it.’</p> +<p>Her face grew troubled, and the tearful passion stirred within +her. But she held it aback, and said, as anyone might have +said it:</p> +<p>‘How wert thou in the Dale, mighty man? We saw +thee not.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘I came hither hidden in other semblance than +mine own. But meddle not therewith; it availeth +nought. Let me say this, and do thou hearken to it. I +saw thee yesterday in the street, and thou wert as the ghost of +thine old gladness; although belike thou hast striven with +sorrow; for I see thee with a sword by thy side, and we have been +told that thou, O fairest of women, hast given thyself to the +Warrior to be his damsel.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘that is sooth.’</p> +<p>He went on: ‘But the face which thou bearedst yesterday +against thy will, amidst all the people, that was because thou +hadst seen my sister the Sun-beam for the first time, and +Face-of-god with her, hand clinging to hand, lip longing for lip, +desire unsatisfied, but glad with all hope.’</p> +<p>She laid hand upon hand in the lap of her gown, and looked +down, and her voice trembled as she said:</p> +<p>‘Doth it avail to talk of this?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘I know not: it may avail; for I am grieved, +and shall be whilst thou art grieved; and it is my wont to strive +with my griefs till I amend them.’</p> +<p>She turned to him with kind eyes and said:</p> +<p>‘O mighty man, canst thou clear away the tangle which +besetteth the soul of her whose hope hath bewrayed her? +Canst thou make hope grow up in her heart? Friend, I will +tell thee that when I wed, I shall wed for the sake of the +kindred, hoping for no joy therein. Yea, or if by some +chance the desire of man came again into my heart, I should +strive with it to rid myself of it, for I should know of it that +it was but a wasting folly, that <a name="page281"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 281</span>should but beguile me, and wound me, +and depart, leaving me empty of joy and heedless of +life.’</p> +<p>He shook his head and said: ‘Even so thou deemest now; +but one day it shall be otherwise. Or dost thou love thy +sorrow? I tell thee, as it wears thee and wears thee, thou +shalt hate it, and strive to shake it off.’</p> +<p>‘Nay, nay,’ she said; ‘I love it not; for +not only it grieveth me, but also it beateth me down and +belittleth me.’</p> +<p>‘Good is that,’ said he. ‘I know how +strong thine heart is. Now, wilt thou take mine hand, which +is verily the hand of thy friend, and remember what I have told +thee of my grief which cannot be sundered from thine? Shall +we not talk more concerning this? For surely I shall soon +see thee again, and often; since the Warrior, who loveth me +belike, leadeth thee into fellowship with me. Yea, I tell +thee, O friend, that in that fellowship shalt thou find both the +seed of hope, and the sun of desire that shall quicken +it.’</p> +<p>Therewith he arose and stood before her, and held out to her +his hand all hardened with the sword-hilt, and she took it, and +stood up facing him, and said:</p> +<p>‘This much will I tell thee, O friend; that what I have +said to thee this hour, I thought not to have said to any man; or +to talk with a man of the grief that weareth me, or to suffer him +to see my tears; and marvellous I deem it of thee, for all thy +might, that thou hast drawn this speech from out of me, and left +me neither angry nor ashamed, in spite of these tears; and thou +whom I have known not, though thou knewest me!</p> +<p>‘But now it were best that thou depart, and get thee +home to the House of the Face, where I was once so frequent; for +I wot that thou hast much to do; and as thou sayest, it will be +in warfare that I shall see thee. Now I thank thee for thy +words and the thought thou hast had of me, and the pain which +thou hast taken to heal my hurt: I thank thee, I thank thee, for +as grievous as it is to show one’s hurts even to a +friend.’</p> +<p><a name="page282"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 282</span>He +said: ‘O Bride, I thank thee for hearkening to my tale; and +one day shall I thank thee much more. Mayest thou fare well +in the Field and amidst the Folk!’</p> +<p>Therewith he kissed her hand, and turned away, and went across +the meadow and the stream, glad at heart and blithe with +everyone; for kindness grew in him as gladness grew.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII. OF THE FOLK-MOTE OF THE DALESMEN, THE +SHEPHERD-FOLK, AND THE WOODLAND CARLES: THE BANNER OF THE WOLF +DISPLAYED.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> came the day of the Great +Folk-mote, and there was much thronging from everywhere to the +Mote-stead, but most from Burgstead itself, whereas few of the +Dale-dwellers who had been at the Fair had gone back home. +Albeit some of the Shepherds and of the Dalesmen of the +westernmost Dale had brought light tents, and tilted themselves +in in the night before the Mote down in the meadows below the +Mote-stead. From early morning there had been a stream of +folk on the Portway setting westward; and many came thus early +that they might hold converse with friends and well-wishers; and +some that they might disport them in the woods. Men went in +no ordered bands, as the Burgstead men at least had done on the +day of the Weapon-show, save that a few of them who were arrayed +the bravest gathered about the banners, and went with them to the +Mote-stead; for all the banners must needs be there.</p> +<p>The Folk-mote was to be hallowed-in three hours before noon, +as all men knew; therefore an hour before that time were all men +of the Dale and the Shepherds assembled that might be looked for, +save the Alderman and the chieftains with the banner of the Burg, +and these were not like to come many minutes before the +Hallowing. Folk were gathered on the Field in such wise, +that the men-at-arms made a great ring round about the Doom-ring, +<a name="page283"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 283</span>(albeit +there were many old men there, girt with swords that they should +never heave up again in battle), so that without that ring there +was nought save women and children. But when all the other +Houses were assembled, men looked around, and beheld the place of +the Woodlanders that it was empty; and they marvelled that they +were thus belated. For now all was ready, and a watcher had +gone up to the Tower on the height, and had with him the great +Horn of Warning, which could be heard past the Mote-stead and a +great way down the Dale: and if he saw foes coming from the East +he should blow one blast; if from the South, two; if from the +West, three; if from the North, four.</p> +<p>So half an hour from the appointed time of Hallowing rose the +rumour that the Alderman was on the road, and presently they of +the women who were on the outside of the throng, by drawing nigh +to the edge of the sheer rock, could behold the Banner of the +Burg on the Portway, and soon after could see the wain, done +about with green boughs, wherein sat the chieftains in their +glittering war-gear. Speedily they spread the tidings, and +a confused shout went up into the air; and in a little while the +wain stayed on Wildlake’s Way at the bottom of the steep +slope that went up to the Mote-stead, and the banner of the Burg +came on proudly up the hill. Soon all men beheld it, and +saw that the tall Hall-face bore it in front of his brother +Face-of-god, who came on gleaming in war-gear better than most +men had seen; which was indeed of his father’s fashioning, +and his father’s gift to him that morning.</p> +<p>After Face-of-god came the Alderman, and with him Folk-might +leading the Sun-beam by the hand, and then Stone-face and the +Elder of the Dale-wardens; and then the six Burg-wardens: as to +the other Dale-wardens, they were in their places on the +Field.</p> +<p>So now those who had been standing up turned their faces +toward the Altar of the Gods, and those who had been sitting down +sprang to their feet, and the confused rumour of the throng rose +<a name="page284"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 284</span>into a +clear shout as the chieftains went to their places, and sat them +down on the turf-seats amidst the Doom-ring facing the +Speech-hill and the Altar of the Gods. Amidmost sat the +Alderman, on his right hand Face-of-god, and out from him +Hall-face, and then Stone-face and three of the Wardens; but on +his left hand sat first the two Guests, then the Elder of the +Dale-wardens, and then the other three Burg-wardens; as for the +Banner of the Burg, its staff was stuck into the earth behind +them, and the Banner raised itself in the morning wind and +flapped and rippled over their heads.</p> +<p>There then they sat, and folk abided, and it still lacked some +minutes of the due time, as the Alderman wotted by the shadow of +the great standing-stone betwixt him and the Altar. +Therewithal came the sound of a great horn from out of the wood +on the north side, and men knew it for the horn of the Woodland +Carles, and were glad; for they could not think why they should +be belated; and now men stood up a-tiptoe and on other’s +shoulders to look over the heads of the women and children to +behold their coming; but their empty place was at the southwest +corner of the ring of men.</p> +<p>So presently men beheld them marching toward their place, +cleaving the throng of the women and children, a great company; +for besides that they had with them two score more of men under +weapons than on the day of the Weapon-show, all their little ones +and women and outworn elders were with them, some on foot, some +riding on oxen and asses. In their forefront went the two +signs of the Battle-shaft and the War-spear. But moreover, +in front of all was borne a great staff with the cloth of a +banner wrapped round about it, and tied up with a hempen yarn +that it might not be seen.</p> +<p>Stark and mighty men they looked; tall and lean, +broad-shouldered, dark-faced. As they came amongst the +throng the voice of their horn died out, and for a few moments +they fared on with no sound save the tramp of their feet; then +all at once <a name="page285"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +285</span>the man who bare the hidden banner lifted up one hand, +and straightway they fell to singing, and with that song they +came to their place. And this is some of what they +sang:</p> +<p class="poetry">O white, white Sun, what things of wonder<br /> + Hast thou beheld from thy wall of the sky!<br /> +All the Roofs of the Rich and the grief thereunder,<br /> + As the fear of the Earl-folk flitteth by!</p> +<p class="poetry">Thou hast seen the Flame steal forth from the +Forest<br /> + To slay the slumber of the lands,<br /> +As the Dusky Lord whom thou abhorrest<br /> + Clomb up to thy Burg unbuilt with hands.</p> +<p class="poetry">Thou lookest down from thy door the golden,<br +/> + Nor batest thy wide-shining mirth,<br /> +As the ramparts fall, and the roof-trees olden<br /> + Lie smouldering low on the burning earth.</p> +<p class="poetry">When flitteth the half-dark night of summer<br +/> + From the face of the murder great and grim,<br /> +’Tis thou thyself and no new-comer<br /> + Shines golden-bright on the deed undim.</p> +<p class="poetry">Art thou our friend, O Day-dawn’s +Lover?<br /> + Full oft thine hand hath sent aslant<br /> +Bright beams athwart the Wood-bear’s cover,<br /> + Where the feeble folk and the nameless haunt.</p> +<p class="poetry">Thou hast seen us quail, thou hast seen us +cower,<br /> + Thou hast seen us crouch in the Green Abode,<br /> +While for us wert thou slaying slow hour by hour,<br /> + And smoothing down the war-rough road.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page286"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +286</span>Yea, the rocks of the Waste were thy Dawns +upheaving,<br /> + To let the days of the years go through;<br /> +And thy Noons the tangled brake were cleaving<br /> + The slow-foot seasons’ deed to do.</p> +<p class="poetry">Then gaze adown on this gift of our giving,<br +/> + For the <span class="smcap">Wolf</span> comes +wending frith and ford,<br /> +And the Folk fares forth from the dead to the living,<br /> + For the love of the Lief by the light of the +Sword.</p> +<p>Then ceased the song, and the whole band of the Woodlanders +came pouring tumultuously into the space allotted them, like the +waters pouring over a river-dam, their white swords waving aloft +in the morning sunlight; and wild and strange cries rose up from +amidst them, with sobbing and weeping of joy. But soon +their troubled front sank back into ordered ranks, their bright +blades stood upright in their hands before them, and folk looked +on their company, and deemed it the very Terror of battle and +Render of the ranks of war. Right well were they armed; for +though many of their weapons were ancient and somewhat worn, yet +were they the work of good smiths of old days; and moreover, if +any of them lacked good war-gear of his own, that had the +Alderman and his sons made good to them.</p> +<p>But before the hedge of steel stood the two tall men who held +in their hands the war-tokens of the Battle-shaft and the +War-spear, and betwixt them stood one who was indeed the tallest +man of the whole assembly, who held the great staff of the hidden +banner. And now he reached up his hand, and plucked at the +yarn that bound it, which of set purpose was but feeble, and tore +it off, and then shook the staff aloft with both hands, and +shouted, and lo! the Banner of the Wolf with the Sun-burst behind +him, glittering-bright, new-woven by the women of the kindred, +ran out in the fresh wind, and flapped and rippled before His +warriors there assembled.</p> +<p><a name="page287"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 287</span>Then +from all over the Mote-stead arose an exceeding great shout, and +all men waved aloft their weapons; but the men of Shadowy Vale +who were standing amidst the men of the Face knew not how to +demean themselves, and some of them ran forth into the Field and +leapt for joy, tossing their swords into the air, and catching +them by the hilts as they fell: and amidst it all the Woodlanders +now stood silent, unmoving, as men abiding the word of onset.</p> +<p>As for that brother and sister: the Sun-beam flushed red all +over her face, and pressed her hands to her bosom, and then the +passion of tears over-mastered her, and her breast heaved, and +the tears gushed out of her eyes, and her body was shaken with +weeping. But Folk-might sat still, looking straight before +him, his eyes glittering, his teeth set, his right hand clutching +hard at the hilts of his sword, which lay naked across his +knees. And the Bride, who stood clad in her begemmed and +glittering war-array in the forefront of the Men of the Steer, +nigh unto the seats of the chieftains, beheld Folk-might, and her +face flushed and brightened, and still she looked upon him. +The Alderman’s face was as of one pleased and proud; yet +was its joy shadowed as it were by a cloud of compassion. +Face-of-god sat like the very image of the War-god, and stirred +not, nor looked toward the Sun-beam; for still the thought of the +after-grief of battle, and the death of friends and folk that +loved him, lay heavy on his heart, for all that it beat wildly at +the shouting of the men.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIII. OF THE GREAT FOLK-MOTE: ATONEMENTS +GIVEN, AND MEN MADE SACKLESS.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Amidst</span> the clamour uprose the +Alderman; for it was clear to all men that the Folk-mote should +be holden at once, and the matters of the War, and the +Fellowship, and the choosing of the War-leader, speedily dealt +with. So the Alderman fell <a name="page288"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 288</span>to hallowing in the Folk-mote: he +went up to the Altar of the Gods, and took the Gold-ring off it, +and did it on his arm; then he drew his sword and waved it toward +the four aírts, and spake; and the noise and shouting +fell, and there was silence but for him:</p> +<p>‘Herewith I hallow in this Folk-mote of the Men of the +Dale and the Sheepcotes and the Woodland, in the name of the +Warrior and the Earth-god and the Fathers of the kindreds. +Now let not the peace of the Mote be broken. Let not man +rise against man, or bear blade or hand, or stick or stone +against any. If any man break the Peace of the Holy Mote, +let him be a man accursed, a wild-beast in the Holy Places; an +outcast from home and hearth, from bed and board, from mead and +acre; not to be holpen with bread, nor flesh, nor wine; nor flax, +nor wool, nor any cloth; nor with sword, nor shield, nor axe, nor +plough-share; nor with horse, nor ox, nor ass; with no +saddle-beast nor draught-beast; nor with wain, nor boat, nor +way-leading; nor with fire nor water; nor with any world’s +wealth. Thus let him who hath cast out man be cast out by +man. Now is hallowed-in the Folk-mote of the Men of the +Dale and the Sheepcotes and the Woodlands.’</p> +<p>Therewith he waved his sword again toward the four +aírts, and went and sat down in his place. But +presently he arose again, and said:</p> +<p>‘Now if man hath aught to say against man, and claimeth +boot of any, or would lay guilt on any man’s head, let him +come forth and declare it; and the judges shall be named, and the +case shall be tried this afternoon or to-morrow. Yet first +I shall tell you that I, the Alderman of the Dalesmen, doomed one +Iron-face of the House of the Face to pay a double fine, for that +he drew a sword at the Gate-thing of Burgstead with the intent to +break the peace thereof. Thou, Green-sleeve, bring forth +the peace-breaker’s fine, that Iron-face may lay the same +on the Altar.’</p> +<p>Then came forth a man from the men of the Face bearing a bag, +and he brought it to Iron-face, who went up to the Altar and +poured forth weighed gold from the bag thereon, and said:</p> +<p><a name="page289"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +289</span>‘Warden of the Dale, come thou and weigh +it!’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ quoth the Warden, ‘it needeth not, no +man here doubteth thee, Alderman Iron-face.’</p> +<p>A murmur of yeasay went up, and none had a word to say against +the Alderman, but they praised him rather: also men were eager to +hear of the war, and the fellowship, and to be done with these +petty matters. Then the Alderman rose again and said:</p> +<p>‘Hath any man a grief against any other of the Kindreds +of the Dale, or the Sheepcotes, or the Woodlands?’</p> +<p>None answered or stirred; so after he had waited a while, he +said:</p> +<p>‘Is there any who hath any guilt to lay against a +Stranger, an Outlander, being such a man as he deems we can come +at?’</p> +<p>Thereat was a stir amongst the Men of the Fleece of the +Shepherds, and their ranks opened, and there came forth an +ill-favoured lean old man, long-nebbed, blear-eyed, and bent, +girt with a rusty old sword, but not otherwise armed. And +all men knew Penny-thumb, who had been ransacked last +autumn. As he came forth, it seemed as if his neighbours +had been trying to hold him back; but a stout, broad-shouldered +man, black-haired and red-bearded, made way for the old man, and +led him out of the throng, and stood by him; and this man was +well armed at all points, and looked a doughty carle. He +stood side by side with Penny-thumb, right in front of the men of +his house, and looked about him at first somewhat uneasily, as +though he were ashamed of his fellow; but though many smiled, +none laughed aloud; and they forbore, partly because they knew +the man to be a good man, partly because of the solemn tide of +the Folk-mote, and partly in sooth because they wished all this +to be over, and were as men who had no time for empty mirth.</p> +<p>Then said the Alderman: ‘What wouldest thou, +Penny-thumb, and thou, Bristler, son of Brightling?’</p> +<p>Then Penny-thumb began to speak in a high squeaky voice: <a +name="page290"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +290</span>‘Alderman, and Lord of the Folk!’ But +therewithal Bristle, pulled him back, and said:</p> +<p>‘I am the man who hath taken this quarrel upon me, and +have sworn upon the Holy Boar to carry this feud through; and we +deem, Alderman, that if they who slew Rusty and ransacked +Penny-thumb be not known now, yet they soon may be.’</p> +<p>As he spake, came forth those three men of the Shepherds and +the two Dalesmen who had sworn with him on the Holy Boar. +Then up stood Folk-might, and came forth into the field, and +said:</p> +<p>‘Bristler, son of Brightling, and ye other good men and +true, it is but sooth that the ransackers and the slayer may soon +be known; and here I declare them unto you: I it was and none +other who slew Rusty; and I was the leader of those who ransacked +Penny-thumb, and cowed Harts-bane of Greentofts. As for the +slaying of Rusty, I slew him because he chased me, and would not +forbear, so that I must either slay or be slain, as hath befallen +me erewhile, and will befall again, methinks. As for the +ransacking of Penny-thumb, I needed the goods that I took, and he +needed them not, since he neither used them, nor gave them away, +and, they being gone, he hath lived no worser than +aforetime. Now I say, that if ye will take the outlawry off +me, which, as I hear, ye laid upon me, not knowing me, then will +I handsel self-doom to thee, Bristler, if thou wilt bear thy +grief to purse, and I will pay thee what thou wilt out of hand; +or if perchance thou wilt call me to Holm, thither will I go, if +thou and I come unslain out of this war. As to the +ransacking and cowing of Harts-bane, I say that I am sackless +therein, because the man is but a ruffler and a man of violence, +and hath cowed many men of the Dale; and if he gainsay me, then +do I call him to the Holm after this war is over; either him or +any man who will take his place before my sword.’</p> +<p>Then he held his peace, and man spake to man, and a murmur +arose, as they said for the more part that it was a fair and +manly offer. But Bristler called his fellows and +Penny-thumb to him, <a name="page291"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 291</span>and they spake together; and +sometimes Penny-thumb’s shrill squeak was heard above the +deep-voiced talk of the others; for he was a man that harboured +malice. But at last Bristler spake out and said:</p> +<p>‘Tall man, we know that thou art a chieftain and of good +will to the men of the Dale and their friends, and that want +drave thee to the ransacking, and need to the manslaying, and +neither the living nor the dead to whom thou art guilty are to be +called good men; therefore will I bring the matter to purse, if +thou wilt handsel me self-doom.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, even so let it be,’ quoth Folk-might; and +stepped forward and took Bristler by the hand, and handselled him +self-doom. Then said Bristler:</p> +<p>‘Though Rusty was no good man, and though he followed +thee to slay thee, yet was he in his right therein, since he was +following up his goodman’s gear; therefore shalt thou pay a +full blood-wite for him, that is to say, the worth of three +hundreds in weed-stuff in whatso goods thou wilt. As for +the ransacking of Penny-thumb, he shall deem himself well paid if +thou give him our hundreds in weed-stuff for that which thou +didst borrow of him.’</p> +<p>Then Penny-thumb set up his squeak again, but no man hearkened +to him, and each man said to his neighbour that it was well +doomed of Bristler, and neither too much nor too little. +But Folk-might bade Wood-wont to bring thither to him that which +he had borne to the Mote; and he brought forth a big sack, and +Folk-might emptied it on the earth, and lo! the silver rings of +the slain felons, and they lay in a heap on the green field, and +they were the best of silver. Then the Elder of the +Dale-wardens weighed out from the heap the blood-wite for Rusty, +according to the due measure of the hundred in weed-stuff, and +delivered it unto Bristler. And Folk-might said:</p> +<p>‘Draw nigh now, Penny-thumb, and take what thou wilt of +this gear, which I need not, and grudge not at me +henceforward.’</p> +<p>But Penny-thumb was afraid, and abode where he was; and <a +name="page292"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 292</span>Bristler +laughed, and said: ‘Take it, goodman, take it; spare not +other men’s goods as thou dost thine own.’</p> +<p>And Folk-might stood by, smiling faintly: so Penny-thumb +plucked up a heart, and drew nigh trembling, and took what he +durst from that heap; and all that stood by said that he had +gotten a full double of what had been awarded to him. But +as for him, he went his ways straight from the Mote-stead, and +made no stay till he had gotten him home, and laid the silver up +in a strong coffer; and thereafter he bewailed him sorely that he +had not taken the double of that which he took, since none would +have said him nay.</p> +<p>When he was gone, the Alderman arose and said:</p> +<p>‘Now, since the fines have been paid duly and freely, +according to the dooming of Bristler, take we off the outlawry +from Folk-might and his fellows, and account them to be sackless +before us.’</p> +<p>Then he called for other cases; but no man had aught more to +bring forward against any man, either of the kindreds or the +Strangers.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIX. OF THE GREAT FOLK-MOTE: MEN TAKE REDE OF +THE WAR-FARING, THE FELLOWSHIP, AND THE WAR-LEADER. +FOLK-MIGHT TELLETH WHENCE HIS PEOPLE CAME. THE FOLK-MOTE +SUNDERED.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> a great silence fell upon the +throng, and they stood as men abiding some new matter. Unto +them arose the Alderman, and said:</p> +<p>‘Men of the Dale, and ye Shepherds and Woodlanders; it +is well known to you that we have foemen in the wood and beyond +it; and now have we gotten sure tidings, that they will not abide +at home or in the wood, but are minded to fall upon us at +home. Now therefore I will not ask you whether ye will have +peace <a name="page293"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 293</span>or +war; for with these foemen ye may have peace no otherwise save by +war. But if ye think with me, three things have ye to +determine: first, whether ye will abide your foes in your own +houses, or will go meet them at theirs; next, whether ye will +take to you as fellows in arms a valiant folk of the children of +the Gods, who are foemen to our foemen; and lastly, what man ye +will have to be your War-leader. Now, I bid all those here +assembled, to speak hereof, any man of them that will, either +what they may have conceived in their own minds, or what their +kindred may have put into their mouths to speak.’</p> +<p>Therewith he sat down, and in a little while came forth old +Hall-ward of the House of the Steer, and stood before the +Alderman, and said: ‘O Alderman, all we say: Since war is +awake we will not tarry, but will go meet our foes while it is +yet time. The valiant men of whom thou tellest shall be our +fellows, were there but three of them. We know no better +War-leader than Face-of-god of the House of the Face. Let +him lead us.’</p> +<p>Therewith he went his ways; and next came forth War-well, and +said: ‘The House of the Bridge would have Face-of-god for +War-leader, these tall men for fellows, and the shortest way to +meet the foe.’ And he went back to his place.</p> +<p>Next came Fox of Upton, and said: ‘Time presses, or much +might be spoken. Thus saith the House of the Bull: Let us +go meet the foe, and take these valiant strangers for +way-leaders, and Face-of-god for War-leader.’ And he +also went back again.</p> +<p>Then came forth two men together, an old man and a young, and +the old man spake as soon as he stood still: ‘The Men of +the Vine bid me say their will: They will not stay at home to +have their houses burned over their heads, themselves slain on +their own hearths, and their wives haled off to thralldom. +They will take any man for their fellow in arms who will smite +stark strokes on their side. They know Face-of-god, and +were liefer of him for War-leader than any other, and they will +follow him wheresoever he leadeth. Thus my kindred biddeth +me say, and I hight <a name="page294"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 294</span>Fork-beard of Lea. If I live +through this war, I shall have lived through five.’</p> +<p>Therewith he went back to his place; but the young man lifted +up his voice and said: ‘To all this I say yea, and so am I +bidden by the kindred of the Sickle. I am Red-beard of the +Knolls, the son of my father.’ And he went to his +place again.</p> +<p>Then came forth Stone-face, and said: ‘The House of the +Face saith: Lead us through the wood, O Face-of-god, thou +War-leader, and ye warriors of the Wolf. I am Stone-face, +as men know, and this word hath been given to me by the +kindred.’ And he took his place again.</p> +<p>Then came forth together the three chiefs of the Shepherds, to +wit Hound-under-Greenbury, Strongitharm, and the Hyllier; and +Strongitharm spake for all three, and said:</p> +<p>‘The Men of Greenbury, and they of the Fleece and the +Thorn, are of one accord, and bid us say that they are well +pleased to have Face-of-god for War-leader; and that they will +follow him and the warriors of the Wolf to live or die with them; +and that they are ready to go meet the foe at once, and will not +skulk behind the walls of Greenbury.’</p> +<p>Therewith the three went back again to their places.</p> +<p>Then came forth that tall man that bare the Banner of the +Wolf, when he had given the staff into the hands of him who stood +next. He came and stood over against the seat of the +chieftains; and for a while he could say no word, but stood +struggling with the strong passion of his joy; but at last he +lifted his hands aloft, and cried out in a loud voice:</p> +<p>‘O war, war! O death! O wounding and +grief! O loss of friends and kindred! let all this be +rather than the drawing back of meeting hands and the sundering +of yearning hearts!’ and he went back hastily to his +place. But from the ranks of the Woodlanders ran forth a +young man, and cried out:</p> +<p>‘As is the word of Red-wolf, so is my word, Bears-bane +of Carlstead; and this is the word which our little Folk hath put +<a name="page295"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 295</span>into our +mouths; and O! that our hands may show the meaning of our mouths; +for nought else can.’</p> +<p>Then indeed went up a great shout, though many forebore to cry +out; for now were they too much moved for words or sounds. +And in special was Face-of-god moved; and he scarce knew which +way to look, lest he should break out into sobs and weeping; for +of late he had been much among the Woodlanders, and loved them +much.</p> +<p>Then all the noise and clamour fell, and it was to men as if +they who had come thither a folk, had now become an host of +war.</p> +<p>But once again the Alderman rose up and spake:</p> +<p>‘Now have ye yeasaid three things: That we take +Face-of-god of the House of the Face for our War-leader; that we +fare under weapons at once against them who would murder us; and +that we take the valiant Folk of the Wolf for our fellows in +arms.’</p> +<p>Therewith he stayed his speech, and this time the shout arose +clear and most mighty, with the tossing up of swords and the +clashing of weapons on shields.</p> +<p>Then he said: ‘Now, if any man will speak, here is the +War-leader, and here is the chief of our new friends, to answer +to whatso any of the kindred would have answered.’</p> +<p>Thereon came forth the Fiddle from amongst the Men of the +Sickle, and drew somewhat nigh to the Alderman, and said:</p> +<p>‘Alderman, we would ask of the War-leader if he hath +devised the manner of our assembling, and the way of our +war-faring, and the day of our hosting. More than this I +will not ask of him, because we wot that in so great an assembly +it may be that the foe may have some spy of whom we wot not; and +though this be not likely, yet some folk may babble; therefore it +is best for the wise to be wise everywhere and always. +Therefore my rede it is, that no man ask any more concerning +this, but let it lie with the War-leader to bring us face to face +with the foe as speedily as he may.’</p> +<p>All men said that this was well counselled. But +Face-of-god <a name="page296"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +296</span>arose and said: ‘Ye Men of the Dale, ye Shepherds +and Woodlanders, meseemeth the Fiddle hath spoken wisely. +Now therefore I answer him and say, that I have so ordered +everything since the Gate-thing was holden at Burgstead, that we +may come face to face with the foemen by the shortest of +roads. Every man shall be duly summoned to the Hosting, and +if any man fail, let it be accounted a shame to him for +ever.’</p> +<p>A great shout followed on his words, and he sat down +again. But Fox of Upton came forth and said:</p> +<p>‘O Alderman, we have yeasaid the fellowship of the +valiant men who have come to us from out of the waste; but this +we have done, not because we have known them, otherwise than by +what our kinsman Face-of-god hath told us concerning them, but +because we have seen clearly that they will be of much avail to +us in our warfare. Now, therefore, if the tall chieftain +who sitteth beside thee were to do us to wit what he is, and +whence he and his are come, it were well, and fain were we +thereof; but if he listeth not to tell us, that also shall be +well.’</p> +<p>Then arose Folk-might in his place; but or ever he could open +his mouth to speak, the tall Red-wolf strode forward bearing with +him the Banner of the Wolf and the Sun-burst, and came and stood +beside him; and the wind ran through the folds of the banner, and +rippled it out above the heads of those twain. Then +Folk-might spake and said:</p> +<p class="poetry">‘O Men of the Dale and the Sheepcotes, I +will do as ye bid me do;<br /> +And fain were ye of the story if every deal ye knew.<br /> +But long, long were its telling, were I to tell it all:<br /> +Let it bide till the Cup of Deliverance ye drink from hall to +hall.<br /> +<br /> +‘Like you we be of the kindreds, of the Sons of the Gods we +come,<br /> +Midst the Mid-earth’s mighty Woodland of old we had our +home;<br /> +But of older time we abided ’neath the mountains of the +Earth,<br /> +O’er which the Sun ariseth to waken woe and mirth.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="page297"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 297</span>Great +were we then and many; but the long days wore us thin,<br /> +And war, wherein the winner hath weary work to win.<br /> +And the woodland wall behind us e’en like ourselves was +worn,<br /> +And the tramp of the hosts of the foemen adown its glades was +borne<br /> +On the wind that bent our wheat-fields. So in the morn we +rose,<br /> +And left behind the stubble and the autumn-fruited close,<br /> +And went our ways to the westward, nor turned aback to see<br /> +The glare of our burning houses rise over brake and tree.<br /> +But the foe was fierce and speedy, nor long they tarried +there,<br /> +And through the woods of battle our laden wains must fare;<br /> +And the Sons of the Wolf were minished, and the maids of the Wolf +waxed few,<br /> +As amidst the victory-singing we fared the wild-wood through.<br +/> +<br /> +‘So saith the ancient story, that west and west we went,<br +/> +And many a day of battle we had in brake, on bent;<br /> +Whilst here a while we tarried, and there we hastened on,<br /> +And still the battle-harvest from many a folk we won.<br /> +<br /> +‘Of the tale of the days who wotteth? Of the years +what man can tell,<br /> +While the Sons of the Wolf were wandering, and knew not where to +dwell?<br /> +But at last we clomb the mountains, and mickle was our toil,<br +/> +As high the spear-wood clambered of the drivers of the spoil;<br +/> +And tangled were the passes and the beacons flared behind,<br /> +And the horns of gathering onset came up upon the wind.<br /> +So saith the ancient story, that we stood in a mountain-cleft,<br +/> +Where the ways and the valleys sundered to the right hand and the +left.<br /> +There in the place of sundering all woeful was the rede;<br /> +We knew no land before us, and behind was heavy need.<br /> +As the sword cleaves through the byrny, so there the mountain +flank<br /> +Cleft through the God-kin’s people; and ne’er again +we drank<br /> +<a name="page298"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 298</span>The wine +of war together, or feasted side by side<br /> +In the Feast-hall of the Warrior on the fruit of the +battle-tide.<br /> +For there we turned and sundered; unto the North we went<br /> +And up along the waters, and the clattering stony bent;<br /> +And unto the South and the Sheepcotes down went our +sister’s sons;<br /> +And O for the years passed over since we saw those valiant +ones!’</p> +<p>He ceased, and laid his right hand on the banner-staff a +little below the left hand of Red-wolf; and men were so keen to +hear each word that he spake, that there was no cry nor sound of +voices when he had done, only the sound of the rippling banner of +the Wolf over the heads of those twain. The Sun-beam bowed +her head now, and wept silently. But the Bride, she had +drawn her sword, and held it upright in her hand before her, and +the sun smote fire from out of it.</p> +<p>Then it was but a little while before Red-wolf lifted up his +voice, and sang:</p> +<p class="poetry">‘Hearken a wonder, O Folk of the +Field,<br /> +How they that did sunder stand shield beside shield!</p> +<p class="poetry">Lo! the old wont and manner by fearless folk +made,<br /> +On the Bole of the Banner the brothers’ hands laid.</p> +<p class="poetry">Lo! here the token of what hath betid!<br /> +Grown whole is the broken, found that which was hid.</p> +<p class="poetry">Now one way we follow whate’er shall +befall;<br /> +As seeketh the swallow his yesteryear’s hall.</p> +<p class="poetry">Seldom folk fewer to fight-stead hath fared;<br +/> +Ne’er have men truer the battle-reed bared.</p> +<p class="poetry">Grey locks now I carry, and old am I grown,<br +/> +Nor looked I to tarry to meet with mine own.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page299"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +299</span>For we who remember the deeds of old days<br /> +Were nought but the ember of battle ablaze.</p> +<p class="poetry">For what man might aid us? what deed and what +day<br /> +Should come where Weird laid us aloof from the way?</p> +<p class="poetry">What man save that other of Twain rent +apart,<br /> +Our war-friend, our Brother, the piece of our heart.</p> +<p class="poetry">Then hearken the wonder how shield beside +shield<br /> +The twain that did sunder wend down to the Field!’</p> +<p>Now when he had made an end, men could no longer forebear the +shout; and it went up into the heavens, and was borne by the +west-wind down the Dale to the ears of the stay-at-home women and +men unmeet to go abroad, and it quickened their blood and the +spirits within them as they heard it, and they smiled and were +fain; for they knew that their kinsfolk were glad.</p> +<p>But when there was quiet on the Mote-field again, Folk-might +spake again and said;</p> +<p class="poetry">‘It is sooth that my Brother sayeth, and +that now again we wend,<br /> +All the Sons of the Wolf together, till the trouble hath an +end.<br /> +But as for that tale of the Ancients, it saith that we who +went<br /> +To the northward, climbed and stumbled o’er many a stony +bent,<br /> +Till we happed on that isle of the waste-land, and the grass of +Shadowy Vale,<br /> +Where we dwelt till we throve a little, and felt our might +avail.<br /> +Then we fared abroad from the shadow and the little-lighted +hold,<br /> +And the increase fell to the valiant, and the spoil to the +battle-bold,<br /> +And never a man gainsaid us with the weapons in our hands;<br /> +And in Silver-dale the happy we gat us life and lands.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘So wore the years o’er-wealthy; +and meseemeth that ye know<br /> +How we sowed and reaped destruction, and the Day of the +overthrow:<br /> +<a name="page300"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 300</span>How we +leaned on the staff we had broken, and put our lives in the +hand<br /> +Of those whom we had vanquished and the feeble of the land;<br /> +And these were the stone of stumbling, and the burden not to be +borne,<br /> +When the battle-blast fell on us and our day was over-worn.<br /> +Thus then did our wealth bewray us, and left us wise and sad;<br +/> +And to you, bold men, it falleth once more to make us glad,<br /> +If so your hearts are bidding, and ye deem the deed of worth.<br +/> +Such were we; what we shall be, ’tis yours to say +henceforth.’</p> +<p>He said furthermore: ‘How great we have been I have told +you already; and ye shall see for yourselves how little we be +now. Is it enough, and will ye have us for friends and +brothers? How say ye?’</p> +<p>They answered with shout upon shout, so that all the place and +the wild-wood round about was full of the voice of their crying; +but when the clamour fell, then spake the Alderman and said:</p> +<p>‘Friend, and chieftain of the Wolf, thou mayst hear by +this shouting of the people that we have no mind to naysay our +yea-say. And know that it is not our use and manner to seek +the strong for friends, and to thrust aside the weak; but rather +to choose for our friends them who are of like mind to us, men in +whom we put our trust. From henceforth then there is +brotherhood between us; we are yours, and ye are ours; and let +this endure for ever!’</p> +<p>Then were all men full of joy; and now at last the battle +seemed at hand, and the peace beyond the battle.</p> +<p>Then men brought the hallowed beasts all garlanded with +flowers into the Doom-ring, and there were they slain and offered +up unto the Gods, to wit the Warrior, the Earth-god, and the +Fathers; and thereafter was solemn feast holden on the Field of +the Folk-mote, and all men were fain and merry. +Nevertheless, not all men abode there the feast through; for or +ever the afternoon was well worn, were many men wending along the +Portway <a name="page301"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +301</span>eastward toward the Upper Dale, each man in his +war-gear and with a scrip hung about him; and these were they who +were bound for the trysting-place and the journey over the +waste.</p> +<p>So the Folk-mote was sundered; and men went to their houses, +and there abode in peace the time of their summoning; since they +wotted well that the Hosting was afoot.</p> +<p>But as for the Woodlanders, who were at the Mote-stead with +all their folk, women, children, and old men, they went not back +again to Carlstead; but prayed the neighbours of the Middle Dale +to suffer them to abide there awhile, which they yeasaid with a +good will. So the Woodlanders tilted themselves in, the +more part of them, down in the meadows below the Mote-stead, +along either side of Wildlake’s Way; but their ancient +folk, and some of the women and children, the neighbours would +have into their houses, and the rest they furnished with victual +and all that they needed without price, looking upon them as +their very guests. For indeed they deemed that they could +see that these men would never return to Carlstead, but would +abide with the Men of the Wolf in Silver-dale, once it were +won. And this they deemed but meet and right, yet were they +sorry thereof; for the Woodlanders were well beloved of all the +Dalesmen; and now that they had gotten to know that they were +come of so noble a kindred, they were better beloved yet, and +more looked upon.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XL. OF THE HOSTING IN SHADOWY VALE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was on the evening of the fourth +day after the Folk-mote that there came through the Waste to the +rocky edge of Shadowy Vale a band of some fifteen score of +men-at-arms, and with them a multitude of women and children and +old men, some afoot, some riding on asses and bullocks; and with +them were sumpter asses and neat laden with household goods, and +a few goats and kine. And this was the whole folk of the +Woodlanders come <a name="page302"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +302</span>to the Hosting in Shadowy Vale and the Home of the +Children of the Wolf. Their leaders of the way were +Wood-father and Wood-wont and two other carles of Shadowy Vale; +and Red-wolf the tall, and Bears-bane and War-grove were the +captains and chieftains of their company.</p> +<p>Thus then they entered into the narrow pass aforesaid, which +was the ingate to the Vale from the Waste, and little by little +its dimness swallowed up their long line. As they went by +the place where the lowering of the rock-wall gave a glimpse of +the valley, they looked down into it as Face-of-god had done, but +much change was there in little time. There was the black +wall of crags on the other side stretching down to the ghyll of +the great Force; there ran the deep green waters of the Shivering +Flood; but the grass which Face-of-god had seen naked of +everything but a few kine, thereon now the tents of men stood +thick. Their hearts swelled within them as they beheld it, +but they forebore the shout and the cry till they should be well +within the Vale, and so went down silently into the +darkness. But as their eyes caught that dim image of the +Wolf on the wall of the pass, man pointed it out to man, and not +a few turned and kissed it hurriedly; and to them it seemed that +many a kiss had been laid on that dear token since the days of +old, and that the hard stone had been worn away by the fervent +lips of men, and that the air of the mirk place yet quivered with +the vows sworn over the sword-blade.</p> +<p>But down through the dark they went, and so came on to the +stony scree at the end of the pass and into the Vale; and the +whole Folk save the three chieftains flowed over it and stood +about it down on the level grass of the Vale. But those +three stood yet on the top of the scree, bearing the war-signs of +the Shaft and the Spear, and betwixt them the banner of the Wolf +and the Sunburst newly displayed to the winds of Shadowy +Vale.</p> +<p>Up and down the Vale they looked, and saw before the tents of +men the old familiar banners of Burgdale rising and falling in +the evening wind. But amidst of the Doom-ring was pitched a +<a name="page303"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 303</span>great +banner, whereon was done the image of the Wolf with red gaping +jaws on a field of green; and about him stood other banners, to +wit, The Silver Arm on a red field, the Red Hand on a white +field, and on green fields both, the Golden Bushel and the Ragged +Sword.</p> +<p>All about the plain shone glittering war-gear of men as they +moved hither and thither, and a stream of folk began at once to +draw toward the scree to look on those new-comers; and amidst the +helmed Burgdalers and the white-coated Shepherds went the tall +men of the Wolf, bare-headed and unarmed save for their swords, +mingled with the fair strong women of the kindred, treading +barefoot the soft grass of their own Vale.</p> +<p>Presently there was a great throng gathered round about the +Woodlanders, and each man as he joined it waved hand or weapon +toward them, and the joy of their welcome sent a confused clamour +through the air. Then forth from the throng stepped +Folk-might, unarmed save his sword, and behind him was +Face-of-god, in his war-gear save his helm, hand in hand with the +Sun-beam, who was clad in her goodly flowered green kirtle, her +feet naked like her sisters of the kindred.</p> +<p>Then Folk-might cried aloud: ‘A full and free greeting +to our brothers! Well be ye, O Sons of our Ancient +Fathers! And to-day are ye the dearer to us because we see +that ye have brought us a gift, to wit, your wives and children, +and your grandsires unmeet for war. By this token we see +how great is your trust in us, and that it is your meaning never +to sunder from us again. O well be ye; well be +ye!’</p> +<p>Then spake Red-wolf, and said: ‘Ye Sons of the Wolf, who +parted from us of old time in that cleft of the mountains, it is +our very selves that we give unto you; and these are a part of +ourselves; how then should we leave them behind us? Bear +witness, O men of Burgdale and the Sheepcotes, that we have +become one Folk with the men of Shadowy Vale, never to be +sundered again!’</p> +<p><a name="page304"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 304</span>Then +all that multitude shouted with a loud voice; and when the shout +had died away, Folk-might spake again:</p> +<p>‘O Warriors of the Sundering, here shall your wives and +children abide, while we go a little journey to rejoice our +hearts with the hard handplay, and take to us that which we have +missed: and to-morrow morn is appointed for this same journey, +unless ye be over foot-weary with the ways of the +Waste.’</p> +<p>Red-wolf smiled as he answered: ‘This ye say in jest, +brother; for ye may see that our day’s journey hath not +been over-much for our old men; how then should it weary those +who may yet bear sword? We are ready for the road and eager +for the handplay.’</p> +<p>‘This is well,’ said Folk-might, ‘and what +was to be looked for. Therefore, brother, do ye and your +counsel-mates come straightway to the Hall of the Wolf; wherein, +after ye have eaten and drunken, shall we take counsel with our +brethren of Burgdale and the Sheepcotes, so that all may be +ordered for battle!’</p> +<p>Said Red-wolf: ‘Good is that, if we must needs abide +till to-morrow; for verily we came not hither to eat and drink +and rest our bodies; but it must be as ye will have +it.’</p> +<p>Then the Sun-beam left the hand of Face-of-god and came +forward, and held out both her palms to the Woodland-folk, and +spake in a voice that was heard afar, though it were a +woman’s, so clear and sweet it was; and she said:</p> +<p>‘O Warriors of the Sundering, ye who be not needed in +the Hall, and ye our sisters with your little ones and your +fathers, come now to us and down to the tents which we have +arrayed for you, and there think for a little that we are all at +our very home that we long for and have yet to win, and be ye +merry with us and make us merry.’</p> +<p>Therewith she stepped forward daintily and entered into their +throng, and took an old man of the Woodlanders by the hand, and +kissed his cheek and led him away, and the coming rest seemed +sweet to him. And then came other women of the Vale, kind +and <a name="page305"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 305</span>fair +and smiling, and led away, some an old mother of the +Wood-landers, some a young wife, some a pair of lads; and not a +few forsooth kissed and embraced the stark warriors, and went +away with them toward the tents, which stood along the side of +the Shivering Flood where it was at its quietest; for there was +the grass the softest and most abundant. There on the green +grass were tables arrayed, and lamps were hung above them on +spears, to be litten when the daylight should fail. And the +best of the victual which the Vale could give was spread on the +boards, along with wine and dainties, bought in Silver-dale, or +on the edges of the Westland with sword-strokes and +arrow-flight.</p> +<p>There then they feasted and were merry; and the Sun-beam and +Bow-may and the other women of the Vale served them at table, and +were very blithe with them, caressing them with soft words, and +with clipping and kissing, as folk who were grown exceeding dear +to them; so that that eve of battle was softer and sweeter to +them than any hour of their life. With these feasters were +God-swain and Spear-fist of the delivered thralls of Silver-dale +as glad as glad might be; but Wolf-stone their eldest was gone +with Dallach to the Council in the Hall.</p> +<p>The men of Burgdale and the Shepherds feasted otherwhere in +all content, nor lacked folk of the Vale to serve them. +Amongst the men of the Face were the ten delivered thralls who +had heart to meet their masters in arms: seven of them were of +Rose-dale and three of Silver-dale.</p> +<p>The Bride was with her kindred of the Steer, with whom were +many men of Shadowy Vale, and she served her friends and fellows +clad in her war-gear, save helm and hauberk, bearing herself as +one who is serving dear guests. And men equalled her for +her beauty to the Gods of the High Place and the Choosers of the +Slain; and they who had not beheld her before marvelled at her, +and her loveliness held all men’s hearts in a net of +desire, so that they forebore their meat to gaze upon her; and if +perchance her hand touched some young man, or her cheek or +sweet-breathed <a name="page306"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +306</span>mouth came nigh to his face, he became bewildered and +wist not where he was, nor what to do. Yet was she as lowly +and simple of speech and demeanour as if she were a gooseherd of +fourteen winters.</p> +<p>In the Hall was a goodly company, and all the leaders of the +Folk were therein, and Folk-might and the War-leader sitting in +the midst of those stone seats on the days. There then they +agreed on the whole ordering of the battle and the wending of the +host, as shall be told later on; and this matter was long +a-doing, and when it was done, men went to their places to sleep, +for the night was well worn.</p> +<p>But when men had departed and all was still, Folk-might, +light-clad and without a weapon, left the Hall and walked briskly +toward the nether end of the Vale. He passed by all the +tents, the last whereof were of the House of the Steer, and came +to a place where was a great rock rising straight up from the +plain like sheaves of black staves standing close together; and +it was called Staff-stone, and tales of the elves had been told +concerning it, so that Stone-face had beheld it gladly the day +before.</p> +<p>The moon was just shining into Shadowy Vale, and the grass was +bright wheresoever the shadows of the high cliffs were not, and +the face of Staff-stone shone bright grey as Folk-might came +within sight of it, and he beheld someone sitting at the base of +the rock, and as he drew nigher he saw that it was a woman, and +knew her for the Bride; for he had prayed her to abide him there +that night, because it was nigh to the tents of the House of the +Steer; and his heart was glad as he drew nigh to her.</p> +<p>She sat quietly on a fragment of the black rock, clad as she +had been all day, in her glittering kirtle, but without hauberk +or helm, a wreath of wind-flowers about her head, her feet +crossed over each other, her hands laid palm uppermost in her +lap. She moved not as he drew nigh, but said in a gentle +voice when he was close to her:</p> +<p>‘Chief of the Wolf, great warrior, thou wouldest speak +with <a name="page307"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 307</span>me; +and good it is that friends should talk together on the eve of +battle, when they may never meet alive again.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘My talk shall not be long; for thou and I both +must sleep to-night, since there is work to hand to-morrow. +Now since, as thou sayest, O fairest of women, we may never meet +again alive, I ask thee now at this hour, when we both live and +are near to one another, to suffer me to speak to thee of my love +of thee and desire for thee. Surely thou, who art the +sweetest of all things the Gods and the kindreds have made, wilt +not gainsay me this?’</p> +<p>She said very sweetly, yet smiling: ‘Brother of my +father’s sons, how can I gainsay thee thy speech? +Nay, hast thou not said it? What more canst thou add to it +that will have fresh meaning to mine ears?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Thou sayest sooth: might I then but kiss thine +hand?’</p> +<p>She said, no longer smiling: ‘Yea surely, even so may +all men do who can be called my friends—and thou art much +my friend.’</p> +<p>He took her hand and kissed it, and held it thereafter; nor +did she draw it away. The moon shone brightly on them; but +by its light he could not see if she reddened, but he deemed that +her face was troubled. Then he said: ‘It were better +for me if I might kiss thy face, and take thee in mine +arms.’</p> +<p>Then said she: ‘This only shall a man do with me when I +long to do the like with him. And since thou art so much my +friend, I will tell thee that as for this longing, I have it +not. Bethink thee what a little while it is since the lack +of another man’s love grieved me sorely.’</p> +<p>‘The time is short,’ said Folk-might, ‘if we +tell up the hours thereof; but in that short space have a many +things betid.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Dost thou know, canst thou guess, how sorely +ashamed I went amongst my people? I durst look no man in +the face for the aching of mine heart, which methought all might +see through my face.’</p> +<p><a name="page308"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +308</span>‘I knew it well,’ he said; ‘yet of me +wert thou not ashamed but a little while ago, when thou didst +tell me of thy grief.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘True it is; and thou wert kind to me. +Thou didst become a dear friend to me, methought.’</p> +<p>‘And wilt thou hurt a dear friend?’ said he.</p> +<p>‘O no,’ she said, ‘if I might do +otherwise. Yet how if I might not choose? Shall there +be no forgiveness for me then?’</p> +<p>He answered nothing; and still he held her hand that strove +not to be gone from his, and she cast down her eyes. Then +he spake in a while:</p> +<p>‘My friend, I have been thinking of thee and of me; and +now hearken: if thou wilt declare that thou feelest no sweetness +embracing thine heart when I say that I desire thee sorely, as +now I say it; or when I kiss thine hand, as now I kiss it; or +when I pray thee to suffer me to cast mine arms about thee and +kiss thy face, as now I pray it: if thou wilt say this, then will +I take thee by the hand straightway, and lead thee to the tents +of the House of the Steer, and say farewell to thee till the +battle is over. Canst thou say this out of the truth of +thine heart?’</p> +<p>She said: ‘What then if I cannot say this word? +What then?’</p> +<p>But he answered nothing; and she sat still a little while, and +then arose and stood before him, looking him in the eyes, and +said:</p> +<p>‘I cannot say it.’</p> +<p>Then he caught her in his arms and strained her to him, and +then kissed her lips and her face again and again, and she strove +not with him. But at last she said:</p> +<p>‘Yet after all this shalt thou lead me back to my folk +straight-way; and when the battle is done, if both we are living, +then shall we speak more thereof.’</p> +<p>So he took her hand and led her on toward the tents of the +Steer, and for a while he spake nought; for he doubted himself, +what he should say; but at last he spake:</p> +<p>‘Now is this better for me than if it had not been, +whether I <a name="page309"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +309</span>live or whether I die. Yet thou hast not said +that thou lovest me and desirest me.’</p> +<p>‘Wilt thou compel me?’ she said. +‘To-night I may not say it. Who shall say what words +my lips shall fashion when we stand together victorious in +Silver-dale; then indeed may the time seem long from +now.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Yea, true is that; yet once again I say that +so measured long and long is the time since first I saw thee in +Burgdale before thou knewest me. Yet now I will not bicker +with thee, for be sure that I am glad at heart. And lo you! +our feet have brought us to the tents of thy people. All +good go with thee!’</p> +<p>‘And with thee, sweet friend,’ she said. +Then she lingered a little, turning her head toward the tents, +and then turned her face toward him and laid her hand on his +neck, and drew his head adown to her and kissed his cheek, and +therewith swiftly and lightly departed from him.</p> +<p>Now the night wore and the morning came; and Face-of-god was +abroad very early in the morning, as his custom was; and he +washed the night from off him in the Carles’ Bath of the +Shivering Flood, and then went round through the encampment of +the host, and saw none stirring save here and there the last +watchmen of the night. He spake with one or two of these, +and then went up to the head of the Vale, where was the pass that +led to Silver-dale; and there he saw the watch, and spake with +them, and they told him that none had as yet come forth from the +pass, and he bade them to blow the horn of warning to rouse up +the Host as soon as the messengers came thence. For +forerunners had been sent up the pass, and had been set to hold +watch at divers places therein to pass on the word from place to +place.</p> +<p>Thence went Face-of-god back toward the Hall; but when he was +yet some way from it, he saw a slender glittering warrior come +forth from the door thereof, who stood for a moment looking round +about, and then came lightly and swiftly toward him; and lo! it +was the Sun-beam, with a long hauberk over her kirtle <a +name="page310"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 310</span>falling +below her knees, a helm on her head and plated shoes on her +feet. She came up to him, and laid her hand to his cheek +and the golden locks of his head (for he was bare-headed), and +said to him, smiling:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane! thou badest me bear arms, and Folk-might +also constrained me thereto. Lo thou!’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Folk-might is wise then, even as I +am; and forsooth as thou art. For bethink thee if the bow +drawn at a venture should speed the eyeless shaft against thy +breast, and send me forth a wanderer from my Folk! For how +could I bear the sight of the fair Dale, and no hope to see thee +again therein?’</p> +<p>She said: ‘The heart is light within me to-day. +Deemest thou that this is strange? Or dost thou call to +mind that which thou spakest the other day, that it was of no +avail to stand in the Doom-ring of the Folk and bear witness +against ourselves? This will I not. This is no +light-mindedness that thou beholdest in me, but the valiancy that +the Fathers have set in mine heart. Deem not, O Gold-mane, +fear not, that we shall die before they dight the bride-bed for +us.’</p> +<p>He would have kissed her mouth, but she put him away with her +hand, and doffed her helm and laid it on the grass, and said:</p> +<p>‘This is not the last time that thou shalt kiss me, +Gold-mane, my dear; and yet I long for it as if it were, so high +as the Fathers have raised me up this morn above fear and +sadness.’</p> +<p>He said nought, but drew her to him, and wonder so moved him, +that he looked long and closely at her face before he kissed her; +and forsooth he could find no blemish in it: it was as if it were +but new come from the smithy of the Gods, and exceeding longing +took hold of him. But even as their lips met, from the head +of the Vale came the voice of the great horn; and it was answered +straightway by the watchers all down the tents; and presently +arose the shouts of men and the clash of weapons as folk armed +themselves, and laughter therewith, for most men were +battle-merry, and the cries of women shrilly-clear as they <a +name="page311"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 311</span>hastened +about, busy over the morning meal before the departure of the +Host. But Face-of-god said softly, still caressing the +Sun-beam, and she him:</p> +<p>‘Thus then we depart from this Valley of the Shadows, +but as thou saidst when first we met therein, there shall be no +sundering of thee and me, but thou shalt go down with me to the +battle.’</p> +<p>And he led her by the hand into the Hall of the Wolf, and +there they ate a morsel, and thereafter Face-of-god tarried not, +but busied himself along with Folk-might and the other chieftains +in arraying the Host for departure.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLI. THE HOST DEPARTETH FROM SHADOWY VALE: THE +FIRST DAY’S JOURNEY.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was about three hours before +noon that the Host began to enter into the pass out of Shadowy +Vale by the river-side; and the women and children, and men +unfightworthy, stood on the higher ground at the foot of the +cliffs to see the Host wend on the way. Of these a many +were of the Woodlanders, who were now one folk with them of +Shadowy Vale. And all these had chosen to abide tidings in +the Vale, deeming that there was little danger therein, since +that last slaughter which Folk-might had made of the Dusky Men; +albeit Face-of-god had offered to send them all to Burgstead with +two score and ten men-at-arms to guard them by the way and to eke +out the warders of the Burg.</p> +<p>Now the fighting-men of Shadowy Vale were two long hundreds +lacking five; of whom two score and ten were women, and three +score and ten lads under twenty winters; but the women, though +you might scarce see fairer of face and body, were doughty in +arms, all good shooters in the bow; and the swains were eager and +light-foot, cragsmen of the best, wont to scaling the cliffs of +the Vale in search of the nests of gerfalcons <a +name="page312"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 312</span>and +such-like fowl, and swimming the strong streams of the Shivering +Flood; tough bodies and wiry, stronger than most grown men, and +as fearless as the best.</p> +<p>The order of the Departure of the Host was this:</p> +<p>The Woodlanders went first into the pass, and with them were +two score of the ripe Warriors of the Wolf. Then came of +the kindreds of Burgdale, the Men of the Steer, the Bridge, and +the Bull; then the Men of the Vine and the Sickle; then the +Shepherd-folk; and lastly, the Men of the Face led by Stone-face +and Hall-face. With these went another two score of the +dwellers in Shadowy Vale, and the rest were scattered up and down +the bands of the Host to guide them into the best paths and to +make the way easier to them. Face-of-god was sundered from +his kindred, and went along with Folk-might in the forefront of +the Host, while his father the Alderman went as a simple +man-at-arms with his House in the rearward. The Sun-beam +followed her brother and Face-of-god amidst the Warriors of the +Wolf, and with her were Bow-may clad in the Alderman’s +gift, and Wood-father and his children. Bow-may had caused +her to doff her hauberk for that day, whereon they looked to fall +in with no foeman. As for the Bride, she went with her +kindred in all her war-gear; and the morning sun shone in the +gems of her apparel, and her jewelled feet fell like flowers upon +the deep grass of the upper Vale, and shone strange and bright +amongst the black stones of the pass. She bore a quiver at +her back and a shining yew bow in her hand, and went amongst the +bowmen, for she was a very deft archer.</p> +<p>So fared they into the pass, leaving peace behind them, with +all their banners displayed, and the banner of the Red-mouthed +Wolf went with the Wolf and the Sun-burst in the forefront of +their battle next after the two captains.</p> +<p>As for their road, the grassy space between the rock-wall and +the water was wide and smooth at first, and the cliffs rose up +like bundles of spear-shafts high and clear from the green grass +<a name="page313"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 313</span>with no +confused litter of fallen stones; so that the men strode on +briskly, their hearts high-raised and full of hope. And as +they went, the sweetness of song stirred in their souls, and at +last Bow-may fell to singing in a loud clear voice, and her +cousin Wood-wise answered her, and all the warriors of the Wolf +who were in their band fell into the song at the ending, and the +sound of their melody went down the water and reached the ears of +those that were entering the pass, and of those who were abiding +till the way should be clear of them: and this is some of what +they sang:</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Bow-may singeth</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">Hear ye never a voice come crying<br /> + Out from the waste where the winds fare wide?<br /> +‘Sons of the Wolf, the days are dying,<br /> + And where in the clefts of the rocks do ye hide?</p> +<p class="poetry">‘Into your hands hath the Sword been +given,<br /> + Hard are the palms with the kiss of the hilt;<br /> +Through the trackless waste hath the road been riven<br /> + For the blade to seek to the heart of the guilt.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘And yet ye bide and yet ye tarry;<br /> + Dear deem ye the sleep ’twixt hearth and +board,<br /> +And sweet the maiden mouths ye marry,<br /> + And bright the blade of the bloodless +sword.’</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Wood-wise singeth</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">Yea, here we dwell in the arms of our Mother<br +/> + The Shadowy Queen, and the hope of the Waste;<br /> +Here first we came, when never another<br /> + Adown the rocky stair made haste.<br /> +<br /> +Far is the foe, and no sword beholdeth<br /> + What deed we work and whither we wend;<br /> +<a name="page314"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 314</span>Dear are +the days, and the Year enfoldeth<br /> + The love of our life from end to end.<br /> +<br /> +Voice of our Fathers, why will ye move us,<br /> + And call up the sun our swords to behold?<br /> +Why will ye cry on the foeman to prove us?<br /> + Why will ye stir up the heart of the bold?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Bow-may singeth</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">Purblind am I, the voice of the chiding;<br /> + Then tell me what is the thing ye bear?<br /> +What is the gift that your hands are hiding,<br /> + The gold-adorned, the dread and dear?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Wood-wise singeth</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">Dark in the sheath lies the Anvil’s +Brother,<br /> + Hid is the hammered Death of Men.<br /> +Would ye look on the gift of the green-clad Mother?<br /> + How then shall ye ask for a gift again?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>The Warriors sing</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">Show we the Sunlight the Gift of the Mother,<br +/> + As foot follows foot to the foeman’s den!<br +/> +Gleam Sun, breathe Wind, on the Anvil’s Brother,<br /> + For bare is the hammered Death of Men.</p> +<p>Therewith they shook their naked swords in the air, and fared +on eagerly, and as swiftly as the pass would have them +fare. But so it was, that when the rearward of the Host was +entering the first of the pass, and was going on the wide smooth +sward, the vanward was gotten to where there was but a narrow +space clear betwixt water and cliff; for otherwhere was a litter +of great rocks and small, hard to be threaded even by those who +knew the passes well; so that men had to tread along the very +verge of the Shivering Flood, and wary must they be, for the +water ran swift <a name="page315"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +315</span>and deep betwixt banks of sheer rock half a fathom +below their very foot-soles, which had but bare space to go on +the narrow a way. So it held on for a while, and then got +safer, and there was more space for going betwixt cliff and +flood; albeit it was toilsome enough, since for some way yet +there was a drift of stones to cumber their feet, some big and +some little, and some very big. After a while the way grew +better, though here and there, where the cliffs lowered, were +wide screes of loose stones that they must needs climb up and +down. Thereafter for a space was there an end of the stony +cumber, but the way betwixt the river and the cliffs narrowed +again, and the black crags grew higher, and at last so exceeding +high, and the way so narrow, that the sky overhead was to them as +though they were at the bottom of a well, and men deemed that +thence they could see the stars at noontide. For some time +withal had the way been mounting up and up, though the cliffs +grew higher over it; till at last they were but going on a narrow +shelf, the Shivering Flood swirling and rattling far below them +betwixt sheer rock-walls grown exceeding high; and above them the +cliffs going up towards the heavens as black as a moonless +starless night of winter. And as the flood thundered below, +so above them roared the ceaseless thunder of the wind of the +pass, that blew exceeding fierce down that strait place; so that +the skirts of their garments were wrapped about their knees by +it, and their feet were well-nigh stayed at whiles as they +breasted the push thereof.</p> +<p>But as they mounted higher and higher yet, the noise of the +waters swelled into a huge roar that drowned the bellowing of the +prisoned wind, and down the pass came drifting a fine rain that +fell not from the sky, for between the clouds of that drift could +folk see the heavens bright and blue above them. This rain +was but the spray of the great force up to whose steps they were +climbing.</p> +<p>Now the way got rougher as they mounted; but this toil was +caused by their gain; for the rock-wall, which thrust out a +buttress <a name="page316"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +316</span>there as if it would have gone to the very edge of the +gap where-through the flood ran, and so have cut the way off +utterly, was here somewhat broken down, and its stones scattered +down the steep bent, so that there was a passage, though a +toilsome one.</p> +<p>Thus then through the wind-borne drift of the great force, +through which men could see the white waters tossing down below, +amidst the clattering thunder of the Shivering Flood and the +rumble of the wind of the gap, that tore through their garments +and hair as if it would rend all to rags and bear it away, the +banners of the Wolf won their way to the crest of the midmost +height of the pass, and the long line of the Host came clambering +after them; and each band of warriors as it reached the top cast +an unheard shout from amidst the tangled fury of wind and +waters.</p> +<p>A little further on and all that turmoil was behind them; the +sun, now grown low, smote the wavering column of spray from the +force at their backs, till the rainbows lay bright across it; and +the sunshine lay wide over a little valley that sloped somewhat +steeply to the west right up from the edge of the river; and +beyond these western slopes could men see a low peak spreading +down on all sides to the plain, till it was like to a bossed +shield, and the name of it was Shield-broad. Dark grey was +the valley everywhere, save that by the side of the water was a +space of bright green-sward hedged about toward the mountain by a +wall of rocks tossed up into wild shapes of spires and jagged +points. The river itself was spread out wide and shallow, +and went rattling about great grey rocks scattered here and there +amidst it, till it gathered itself together to tumble headlong +over three slant steps into the mighty gap below.</p> +<p>From the height in the pass those grey slopes seemed easy to +traverse; but the warriors of the Wolf knew that it was far +otherwise, for they were but the molten rock-sea that in time +long past had flowed forth from Shield-broad and filled up the +whole valley endlong and overthwart, cooling as it flowed, and +the tumbled <a name="page317"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +317</span>hedge of rock round about the green plain by the river +was where the said rock-sea had been stayed by meeting with soft +ground, and had heaped itself up round about the +green-sward. And that great rock-flood as it cooled split +in divers fashions; and the rain and weather had been busy on it +for ages, so that it was worn into a maze of narrow paths, most +of which, after a little, brought the wayfarer to a dead stop, or +else led him back again to the place whence he had started; so +that only those who knew the passes throughly could thread that +maze without immeasurable labour.</p> +<p>Now when the men of the Host looked from the high place +whereon they stood toward the green plain by the river, they saw +on the top of that rock-wall a red pennon waving on a spear, and +beside it three or four weaponed men gleaming bright in the +evening sun; and they waved their swords to the Host, and made +lightning of the sunbeams, and the men of the Host waved swords +to them in turn. For these were the outguards of the Host; +and the place whereon they were was at whiles dwelt in by those +who would drive the spoil in Silver-dale, and midmost of the +green-sward was a booth builded of rough stones and turf, a +refuge for a score of men in rough weather.</p> +<p>So the men of the vanward gat them down the hill, and made the +best of their way toward the grassy plain through that rocky maze +which had once been as a lake of molten glass; and as short as +the way looked from above, it was two hours or ever they came out +of it on to the smooth turf, and it was moonlight and night ere +the House of the Face had gotten on to the green-sward.</p> +<p>There then the Host abode for that night, and after they had +eaten lay down on the green grass and slept as they might. +Bow-may would have brought the Sun-beam into the booth with some +others of the women, but she would not enter it, because she +deemed that otherwise the Bride would abide without; and the +Bride, when she came up, along with the House of the Steer, +beheld the Sun-beam, that Wood-father’s children had made a +lair for her without like a hare’s form; and forsooth many +a time had she lain <a name="page318"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 318</span>under the naked heaven in Shadowy +Vale and the waste about it, even as the Bride had in the meadows +of Burgdale. So when the Bride was bidden thereto, she went +meekly into the booth, and lay there with others of the +damsels-at-arms.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLII. THE HOST COMETH TO THE EDGES OF +SILVER-DALE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">So</span> wore the night, and when the +dawn was come were the two captains afoot, and they went from +band to band to see that all was ready, and all men were astir +betimes, and by the time that the sun smote the eastern side of +Shield-broad ruddy, they had broken their fast and were dight for +departure. Then the horns blew up beside the banners, and +rejoiced the hearts of men. But by the command of the +captains this was the last time that they should sound till they +blew for onset in Silver-dale, because now would they be drawing +nigher and nigher to the foemen, and they wotted not but that +wandering bands of them might be hard on the lips of the pass, +and might hear the horns’ voice, and turn to see what was +toward.</p> +<p>Forth then went the banners of the Wolf, and the men of the +vanward fell to threading the rock-maze toward the north, and in +two hours’ time were clear of the Dale under +Shield-broad. All went in the same order as yesterday; but +on this day the Sun-beam would bear her hauberk, and had a sword +girt to her side, and her heart was high and her speech +merry.</p> +<p>When they left the Dale under Shield-broad the way was easy +and wide for a good way, the river flowing betwixt low banks, and +the pass being more like a string of little valleys than a mere +gap, as it had been on the other side of the Dale. But when +one third of the day was past, the way began to narrow on them +again, and to rise up little by little; and at last the +rock-walls drew close to the river, and when men looked toward +the north they <a name="page319"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +319</span>saw no way, and nought but a wall. For the gap of +the Shivering Flood turned now to the east, and the Flood came +down from the east in many falls, as it were over a fearful +stair, through a gap where there was no path between the cliffs +and the water, nought but the boiling flood and its turmoil; so +that they who knew not the road wondered what they should do.</p> +<p>But Folk-might led the banners to where a great buttress of +the cliffs thrust itself into the way, coming well-nigh down to +the water, just at the corner where the river turned eastward, +and they got them about it as they might, and on the other side +thereof lo! another gap exceeding strait, scarce twenty foot +over, wall-sided, rugged beyond measure, going up steeply from +the great valley: a little water ran through it, mostly filling +up the floor of it from side to side; but it was but +shallow. This was now the battle-road of the Host, and the +vanward entered it at once, turning their backs upon the +Shivering Flood.</p> +<p>Full toilsome and dreary was that strait way; often great +stones hung above their heads, bridging the gap and hiding the +sky from them; nor was there any path for them save the stream +itself; so that whiles were they wading its waters to the knee or +higher, and whiles were they striding from stone to stone amidst +the rattle of the waters, and whiles were they stepping warily +along the ledges of rock above the deeper pools, and in all wise +labouring in overcoming the rugged road amidst the twilight of +the gap.</p> +<p>Thus they toiled till the afternoon was well worn, and so at +last they came to where the rock-wall was somewhat broken down on +the north side, and great rocks had fallen across the gap, and +dammed up the waters, which fell scantily over the dam from stone +to stone into a pool at the bottom of it. Up this breach, +then, below the force they scrambled and struggled, for rough +indeed was the road for them; and so came they up out of the gap +on to the open hill-side, a great shoulder of the heath sloping +down from the north, and littered over with big stones, borne +thither <a name="page320"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +320</span>belike by some ice-river of the earlier days; and one +great rock was in special as great as the hall of a wealthy +goodman, and shapen like to a hall with hipped gables, which same +the men of the Wolf called House-stone.</p> +<p>There then the noise and clatter of the vanward rose up on the +face of the heath, and men were exceeding joyous that they had +come so far without mishap. Therewith came weaponed men out +from under House-stone, and they came toward the men of the +vanward, and they were a half-score of the forerunners of the +Wolf; therefore Folk-might and Face-of-god fell at once into +speech with them, and had their tidings; and when they had heard +them, they saw nought to hinder the host from going on their road +to Silver-dale forthright; and there were still three hours of +daylight before them. So the vanward of the host tarried +not, and the captains left word with the men from under +House-stone that the rest of the Host should fare on after them +speedily, and that they should give this word to each company, as +men came up from out the gap. Then they fared speedily up +the hillside, and in an hour’s wearing had come to the +crest thereof, and to where the ground fell steadily toward the +north, and hereabout the scattered stones ceased, and on the +other side of the crest the heath began to be soft and boggy, and +at last so soft, that if they had not been wisely led, they had +been bemired oftentimes. At last they came to where the +flows that trickled through the mires drew together into a +stream, so that men could see it running; and thereon some of the +Woodlanders cried out joyously that the waters were running +north; and then all knew that they were drawing nigh to +Silver-dale.</p> +<p>No man they met on the road, nor did they of Shadowy Vale look +to meet any; because the Dusky Men were not great hunters for the +more part, except it were of men, and especially of women; and, +moreover, these hill-slopes of the mountain-necks led no-whither +and were utterly waste and dreary, and there was nought to be +seen there but snipes and bitterns and whimbrel and plover, <a +name="page321"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 321</span>and here +and there a hill-fox, or the great erne hanging over the heath on +his way to the mountain.</p> +<p>When sunset came, they were getting clear of the miry ground, +and the stream which they had come across amidst of the mires had +got clearer and greater, and rattled down between wide stony +sides over the heath; and here and there it deepened as it cleft +its way through little knolls that rose out of the face of the +mountain-neck. As the Host climbed one of these and was +come to its topmost (it was low enough not to turn the stream), +Face-of-god looked and beheld dark-blue mountains rising up far +off before him, and higher than these, but away to the east, the +snowy peaks of the World-mountains. Then he called to mind +what he had seen from the Burg of the Runaways, and he took +Folk-might by the arm, and pointed toward those far-off +mountains.</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Folk-might, ‘so it is, +War-leader. Silver-dale lieth between us and yonder blue +ridges, and it is far nigher to us than to them.’</p> +<p>But the Sun-beam came close to those twain, and took +Face-of-god by the hand and said: ‘O Gold-mane, dost thou +see?’ and he turned about and beheld her, and saw how her +cheeks flamed and her eyes glittered, and he said in a low voice: +‘To-morrow for mirth or silence, for life or +death.’</p> +<p>But the whole vanward as they came up stayed to behold the +sight of the mountains on the other side of Silver-dale, and the +banners of the Folk hung over their heads, moving but little in +the soft air of the evening: so went they on their ways.</p> +<p>The sun sank, and dusk came on them as they followed down the +stream, and night came, and was clear and starlit, though the +moon was not yet risen. Now was the ground firm and the +grass sweet and flowery, and wind-worn bushes were scattered +round about them, as they began to go down into the ghyll that +cleft the wall of Silver-dale, and the night-wind blew in their +faces from the very Dale and place of the Battle to be. The +path down was steep at first, but the ghyll was wide, and the <a +name="page322"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 322</span>sides of it +no longer straight walls, as in the gaps of their earlier +journey, but broken, sloping back, and (as they might see on the +morrow) partly of big stones and shaly grit, partly grown over +with bushes and rough grass, with here and there a little stream +trickling down their sides. As they went, the ghyll widened +out, till at last they were in a valley going down to the plain, +in places steep, in places flat and smooth, the stream ever +rattling down the midst of it, and they on the west side +thereof. The vale was well grassed, and oak-trees and ash +and holly and hazel grew here and there about it; and at last the +Host had before it a wood which filled the vale from side to +side, not much tangled with undergrowth, and quite clear of it +nigh to the stream-side. Thereinto the vanward entered, but +went no long way ere the leaders called a halt and bade pitch the +banners, for that there should they abide the daylight. +Thus it had been determined at the Council of the Hall of the +Wolf; for Folk-might had said: ‘With an Host as great as +ours, and mostly of men come into a land of which they know +nought at all, an onslaught by night is perilous: yea, and our +foes should be over-much scattered, and we should have to wander +about seeking them. Let us rather abide in the wood of +Wood-dale till the morning, and then display our banners on the +hill-side above Silver-dale, so that they may gather together to +fall upon us: in no case shall they keep us out of the +Dale.’</p> +<p>There then they stayed, and as each company came up to the +wood, they were marshalled into their due places, so that they +might set the battle in array on the edge of Silver-dale.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLIII. FACE-OF-GOD LOOKETH ON SILVER-DALE: THE +BOWMEN’S BATTLE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> then they rested, as folk +wearied with the toilsome journey, when they had set sure watches +round about their campment; and they ate quietly what meat they +had <a name="page323"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 323</span>with +them, and so gat them to sleep in the wood on the eve of +battle.</p> +<p>But not all slept; for the two captains went about amongst the +companies, Folk-might to the east, Face-of-god to the west, to +look to the watches, and to see that all was ordered duly. +Also the Sun-beam slept not, but she lay beside Bow-may at the +foot of an oak-tree; she watched Face-of-god as he went away +amidst the men of the Host, and watched and waked abiding his +returning footsteps.</p> +<p>The night was well worn by then he came back to his place in +the vanward, and on his way back he passed through the folk of +the Steer laid along on the grass, all save those of the watch, +and the light of the moon high aloft was mingled with the light +of the earliest dawn; and as it happed he looked down, and lo! +close to his feet the face of the Bride as she lay beside her +grand-sire, her head pillowed on a bundle of bracken. She +was sleeping soundly like a child who has been playing all day, +and whose sleep has come to him unsought and happily. Her +hands were laid together by her side; her cheek was as fair and +clear as it was wont to be at her best; her face looked calm and +happy, and a lock of her dark-red hair strayed from her uncovered +head over her breast and lay across her wrists, so peacefully she +slept.</p> +<p>Face-of-god turned his eyes from her at once, and went by +swiftly, and came to his own company. The Sun-beam saw him +coming, and rose straightway to her feet from beside Bow-may, who +lay fast asleep, and she held out her hands to him; and he took +them and kissed them, and he cast his arms about her and kissed +her mouth and her face, and she his in likewise; and she +said:</p> +<p>‘O Gold-mane, if this were but the morrow of +to-morrow! Yet shall all be well; shall it not?’</p> +<p>Her voice was low, but it waked Bow-may, who sat up at once +broad awake, after the manner of a hunter of the waste ever ready +for the next thing to betide, and moreover the Sun-beam had been +in her thoughts these two days, and she feared for her, <a +name="page324"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 324</span>lest she +should be slain or maimed. Now she smiled on the Sun-beam +and said:</p> +<p>‘What is it? Does thy mind forebode evil? +That needeth not. I tell thee it is not so ill for us of +the sword to be in Silver-dale. Thrice have I been there +since the Overthrow, and never more than a half-score in company, +and yet am I whole to-day.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, sister,’ said Face-of-god, ‘but in +past times ye did your deed and then fled away; but now we come +to abide here, and this night is the last of lurking.’</p> +<p>‘Ah,’ she said, ‘a little way from this I +saw such things that we had good will to abide here longer, few +as we were, but that we feared to be taken alive.’</p> +<p>‘What things were these?’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘I will not tell thee now; +but mayhap in the lighted winter feast-hall, when the kindred are +so nigh us and about us that they seem to us as if they were all +the world, I may tell it thee; or mayhap I never +shall.’</p> +<p>Said the Sun-beam, smiling: ‘Thou wilt ever be talking, +Bow-may. Now let the War-leader depart, for he will have +much to do.’</p> +<p>And she was well at ease that she had seen Face-of-god again; +but he said:</p> +<p>‘Nay, not so much; all is well-nigh done; in an hour it +will be broad day, and two hours thereafter shall the Banner be +displayed on the edge of Silver-dale.’</p> +<p>The cheek of the Sun-beam flushed, and paled again, as she +said: ‘Yea, we shall stand even as our Fathers stood on the +day when, coming from off the waste, they beheld it, and knew it +would be theirs. Ah me! how have I longed for this +morn. But now—Tell me, Gold-mane, dost thou deem that +I am afraid? And I whom thou hast deemed to be a +God.’</p> +<p>Quoth Bow-may: ‘Thou shalt deem her twice a God ere +noon-tide, brother Gold-mane. But come now! the hour of +deadly battle is at hand, and we may not laugh that away; and +therefore <a name="page325"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +325</span>I bid thee remember, Gold-mane, how thou didst promise +to kiss me once more on the verge of deadly battle.’</p> +<p>Therewith she stood up before him, and he tarried not, but +kind and smiling took her face between his two hands and kissed +her lips, and she cast her arms about him and kissed him, and +then sank down on the grass again, and turned from him, and laid +her face amongst the grass and the bracken, and they could see +that she was weeping, and her body was shaken with sobs. +But the Sun-beam knelt down to her, and caressed her with her +hand, and spake kind words to her softly, while Face-of-god went +his ways to meet Folk-might.</p> +<p>Now was the dawn fading into full daylight; and between dawn +and sunrise were all men stirring; for the watch had waked the +hundred-leaders, and they the leaders of scores and half-scores, +and they the whole folk; and they sat quietly in the wood and +made no noise.</p> +<p>In the night the watch of the Sickle had fallen in with a +thrall who had stolen up from the Dale to set gins for hares, and +now in the early morning they brought him to the +War-leader. He was even such a man as those with whom +Face-of-god had fallen in before, neither better nor worse than +most of them: he was sore afraid at first, but by then he was +come to the captains he understood that he had happened upon +friends; but he was dull of comprehension and slow of +speech. Albeit Folk-might gathered from him that the Dusky +Men had some inkling of the onslaught; for he said that they had +been gathering together in the marketplace of Silver-stead, and +would do so again soon. Moreover, the captains deemed from +his speech that those new tribes had come to hand sooner than was +looked for, and were even now in the Dale. Folk-might +smiled as one who is not best pleased when he heard these +tidings; but Face-of-god was glad to hear thereof; for what he +loathed most was that the war should drag out in hunting of +scattered bands of the foe. Herewith came Dallach to them +as they talked (for Face-of-god had sent for him), <a +name="page326"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 326</span>and he fell +to questioning the man further; by whose answers it seemed that +many men also had come into the Dale from Rose-dale, so that they +of the kindreds were like to have their hands full. Lastly +Dallach drew from the thrall that it was on that very morning +that the great Folk-mote of the Dusky Men should be holden in the +market-place of the Stead, which was right great, and about it +were the biggest of the houses wherein the men of the kindred had +once dwelt.</p> +<p>So when they had made an end of questioning the thrall, and +had given him meat and drink, they asked him if he would take +weapons in his hand and lead them on the ways into the Dale, +bidding him look about the wood and note how great and mighty an +host they were. And the carle yeasaid this, after staring +about him a while, and they gave him spear and shield, and he +went with the vanward as a way-leader.</p> +<p>Again presently came a watch of the Shepherds, and they had +found a man and a woman dead and stark naked hanging to the +boughs of a great oak-tree deep in the wood. This men knew +for some vengeance of the Dusky Men, for it was clear to see that +these poor people had been sorely tormented before they were +slain. Also the same watch had stumbled on the dead body of +an old woman, clad in rags, lying amongst the rank grass about a +little flow; she was exceeding lean and hunger-starved, and in +her hand was a frog which she had half eaten. And Dallach, +when he heard of this, said that it was the wont of the Dusky Men +to slay their thralls when they were past work, or to drive them +into the wilderness to die.</p> +<p>Lastly came a watch from the men of the Face, having with them +two more thralls, lusty young men; these they had come upon in +company of their master, who had brought them up into the wood to +shoot him a buck, and therefore they bare bows and arrows. +The watch had slain the master straightway while the thralls +stood looking on. They were much afraid of the weaponed +men, but answered to the questioning much readier than the first +<a name="page327"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 327</span>man; for +they were household thralls, and better fed and clad than he, who +was but a toiler in the fields. They yeasaid all his tale, +and said moreover that the Folk-mote of the Dusky Men should be +holden in the market-place that forenoon, and that most of the +warriors should be there, both the new-comers and the Rose-dale +lords, and that without doubt they should be under arms.</p> +<p>To these men also they gave a good sword and a helm each, and +bade them be brisk with their bows, and they said yea to marching +with the Host; and indeed they feared nothing so much as being +left behind; for if they fell into the hands of the Dusky Men, +and their master missing, they should first be questioned with +torments, and then slain in the evillest manner.</p> +<p>Now whereas things had thus betid, and that they knew thus +much of their foemen, Face-of-god called all the chieftains +together, and they sat on the green grass and held counsel +amongst them, and to one and all it seemed good that they should +suffer the Dusky Men to gather together before they meddled with +them, and then fall upon them in such order and such time as +should seem good to the captains watching how things went; and +this would be easy, whereas they were all lying in the wood in +the same order as they would stand in battle-array if they were +all drawn up together on the brow of the hill. Albeit +Face-of-god deemed it good, after he had heard all that they who +had been in the Stead could tell him thereof, that the +Shepherd-Folk, who were more than three long hundreds, and they +of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull, four hundreds in all, +should take their places eastward of the Woodlanders who had led +the vanward.</p> +<p>Straightway the word was borne to these men, and the shift was +made: so that presently the Woodlanders were amidmost of the +Host, and had with them on their right hands the Men of the +Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull, and beyond them the +Shepherd-Folk. But on their left hand lay the Men of the +Vine, then they of the Sickle, and lastly the Men of the Face, +and these three kindreds were over five hundreds of warriors: as +for the Men <a name="page328"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +328</span>of the Wolf, they abode at first with those companies +which they had led through the wastes, though this was changed +afterwards.</p> +<p>All this being done, Face-of-god gave out that all men should +break their fast in peace and leisure; and while men were at +their meat, Folk-might spake to Face-of-god and said: +‘Come, brother, for I would show thee a goodly thing; and +thou, Dallach, come with us.’</p> +<p>Then he brought them by paths in the wood till Face-of-god saw +the sky shine white between the tree-boles, and in a little while +they were come well-nigh out of the thicket, and then they went +warily; for before them was nought but the slopes of Wood-dale, +going down steeply into Silver-dale, with nought to hinder the +sight of it, save here and there bushes or scattered trees; and +so fair and lovely it was that Face-of-god could scarce forbear +to cry out. He saw that it was only at the upper or eastern +end, where the mountains of the Waste went round about it, that +the Dale was narrow; it soon widened out toward the west, and for +the most part was encompassed by no such straight-sided a wall as +was Burgdale, but by sloping hills and bents, mostly indeed +somewhat higher and steeper than the pass wherein they were, but +such as men could well climb if they had a mind to, and there +were any end to their journey. The Dale went due west a +good way, and then winded about to the southwest, and so was +hidden from them thereaway by the bents that lay on their left +hand. As it was wider, so it was not so plain a ground as +was Burgdale, but rose in knolls and little hills here and +there. A river greater than the Weltering Water wound about +amongst the said mounds; and along the side of it out in the open +dale were many goodly houses and homesteads of stone. The +knolls were mostly covered over with vines, and there were goodly +and great trees in groves and clumps, chiefly oak and sweet +chestnut and linden; many were the orchards, now in blossom, +about the homesteads; the pastures of the neat and horses spread +out bright green up from the water-side, and deeper <a +name="page329"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 329</span>green +showed the acres of the wheat on the lower slopes of the knolls, +and in wide fields away from the river.</p> +<p>Just below the pitch of the hill whereon they were, lay +Silver-stead, the town of the Dale. Hitherto it had been an +unfenced place; but Folk-might pointed to where on the western +side a new white wall was rising, and on which, young as the day +yet was, men were busy laying the stones and spreading the +mortar. Fair seemed that town to Face-of-god: the houses +were all builded of stone, and some of the biggest were roofed +with lead, which also as well as silver was dug out of the +mountains at the eastern end of the Dale. The market-place +was clear to see from where they stood, though there were houses +on all sides of it, so wide it was. From their +standing-place it was but three furlongs to this heart of +Silver-dale; and Face-of-god could see brightly-clad men moving +about in it already. High above their heads he beheld two +great clots of scarlet and yellow raised on poles and pitched in +front of a great stone-built hall roofed with lead, which stood +amidmost of the west end of the Place, and betwixt those poles he +saw on a mound with long slopes at its sides somewhat of white +stone, and amidmost of the whole Place a great stack of +faggot-wood built up four-square. Those red and yellow +things on the poles he deemed would be the banners of the +murder-carles; and Folk-might told him that even so it was, and +that they were but big bunches of strips of woollen cloth, much +like to great ragmops, save that the rags were larger and longer: +no other token of war, said Folk-might, did those folk carry, +save a crookbladed sword, smeared with man’s blood, and +bigger than any man might wield in battle.</p> +<p>‘Art thou far-seeing, War-leader?’ quoth he. +‘What canst thou see in the market-place?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Far-seeing am I above most men, and I +see in the Place a man in scarlet standing by the banner, which +is pitched in front of the great stone hall, near to the mound +with the white stone on it; and meseemeth he beareth a great horn +in his hand.’</p> +<p><a name="page330"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 330</span>Said +Folk-might: ‘Yea, and that stone hall was our Mote-house +when we were lords of the Dale, and thence it was that they who +are now thralls of the Dusky Men sent to them their message and +token of yielding. And as for that white stone, it is the +altar of their god; for they have but one, and he is that same +crook-bladed sword. And now that I look, I see a great +stack of wood amidmost the market-place, and well I know what +that betokeneth.’</p> +<p>‘Lo you!’ said Face-of-god, ‘the man with +the horn is gone up on to the altar-mound, and meseemeth he is +setting the little end of the horn to his mouth.’</p> +<p>‘Hearken then!’ said Folk-might. And in a +moment came the hoarse tuneless sound of the horn down the wind +towards them; and Folk-might said:</p> +<p>‘I deem I should know what that blast meaneth; and now +is it time that the Host drew nigher to set them in array behind +these very trees. But if ye will, War-leader, we will abide +here and watch the ways of the foemen, and send Dallach with the +word to the Host; also I would have thee suffer me to bid hither +at once two score and ten of the best of the bowmen of our folk +and the Woodlanders, and Wood-wise to lead them, for he knoweth +well the land hereabout, and what is good to do.’</p> +<p>‘It is good,’ said Face-of-god. ‘Be +speedy, Dallach!’</p> +<p>So Dallach departed, running lightly, and the two chiefs abode +there; and the horn in Silver-stead blew at whiles for a little, +and then stayed; and Folk-might said:</p> +<p>‘Lo you! they come flockmeal to the Mote-stead; the +Place will be filled ere long.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Will they make offerings to their god +at the hallowing in of their Folk-mote? Where then are the +slaughter-beasts?’</p> +<p>‘They shall not long be lacking,’ said +Folk-might. ‘See you it is getting thronged about the +altar and the Mote-house.’</p> +<p>Now there were four ways into the Market-place of Silver-stead +<a name="page331"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 331</span>turned +toward the four aírts, and the midmost of the +kindreds’ battle looked right down the southern one, which +went up to the wood, but stopped there in a mere woodland path, +and the more part of the town lay north and west of this way, +albeit there was a way from the east also. But the +hill-side just below the two captains lay two furlongs west of +this southern way; and it went down softly till it was gotten +quite near to the backs of the houses on the south side of the +Market-place, and was sprinkled scantly with bushes and trees as +aforesaid; but at last were there more bushes, which well-nigh +made a hedge across it, reaching from the side of the southern +way; and a foot or two beyond these bushes the ground fell by a +steep and broken bent down to the level of the Market-place, and +betwixt that fringe of bushes and the backs of the houses on the +south side of the Place was less it maybe than a full furlong: +but the southern road aforesaid went down softly into the +Market-place, since it had been fashioned so by men.</p> +<p>Now the two chiefs heard a loud blast of horns come up from +the town, and lo! a great crowd of men wending their ways down +the road from the north, and they came into the market-place with +spears and other weapons tossing in the air, and amidst of these +men, who seemed to be all of the warriors, they saw as they drew +nigher some two score and ten of men clad in long raiment of +yellow and scarlet, with tall spiring hats of strange fashion on +their heads, and in their hands long staves with great blades +like scythes done on to them; and again, in the midst of these +yellow and red glaive-bearers, in the very heart of the throng +were some score of naked folk, they deemed both men and women, +but were not sure, so close was the throng; nor could they see if +they were utterly naked.</p> +<p>‘Lo you, brother!’ quoth Folk-might, ‘said I +not that the beasts for the hewing should not tarry? Yonder +naked folk are even they: and ye may well deem that they are the +thralls of the Dusky Men; and meseemeth by the whiteness of their +skins they be of <a name="page332"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +332</span>the best of them. For these felons, it is like, +look to winning great plenty of thralls in Burgdale, and so set +the less store on them they have, and may expend them +freely.’</p> +<p>As he spake they heard the sound of men marching in the wood +behind them, and they turned about and saw that there was come +Wood-wise, and with him upwards of two score and ten of the +bowmen of the Woodlanders and the Wolf—huntsmen, cragsmen, +and scourers of the Waste; men who could shoot the chaffinch on +the twig a hundred yards aloof; who could make a hiding-place of +the bennets of the wayside grass, or the stem of the slender +birch-tree. With these must needs be Bow-may, who was the +closest shooter of all the kindreds.</p> +<p>So then Wood-wise told the War-leader that Dallach had given +the word to the Host, and that all men were astir and would be +there presently in their ordered companies; and Face-of-god spake +to Folk-might, and said: ‘Chief of the Wolf, wilt thou not +give command to these bowmen, and set them to the work; for thou +wottest thereof.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, that will I,’ said Folk-might, and turned to +Wood-wise, and said: ‘Wood-wise, get ye down the slope, and +loose on these felons, who have a murder on hand, if so be ye +have a chance to do it wisely. But in any case come ye all +back; for all shall be needed yet to-day. So flee if they +pursue, for ye shall have us to flee to. Now be ye wary, +nor let the curse of the Wolf and the Face lie on your +slothfulness.’</p> +<p>Wood-wise did but nod his head and lift his hand to his +fellows, who set off after him down the slope without more +tarrying. They went very warily, as if they were hunting a +quarry which would flee from them; and they crept amongst the +grass and stones from bush to bush like serpents, and so, unseen +by the Dusky Men, who indeed were busied over their own matters, +they came to the fringe of bushes above the broken ground +aforesaid, and there they took their stand, and before them below +those steep banks was but the space at the back of the +houses. As to the houses, as aforesaid, <a +name="page333"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 333</span>they were +not so high as elsewhere about the Market-place; and at the end +of a long low hall there was a gap between its gable and the next +house, whereby they had a clear sight of the Place about the +god’s altar and the banners, and the great hall of +Silver-dale, with the double stair that went up to the door +thereof.</p> +<p>There then they made them ready, and Wood-wise set men to +watch that none should come sidelong on them unawares; their bows +were bent and their quivers open, and they were eager for the +fray.</p> +<p>Thus they beheld the Market-place from their cover, and saw +that those folk who were to be hewn to the god were now standing +facing the altar in a half-ring, and behind them in another +half-ring the glaive-bearers who had brought them thither stood +glaive in hand ready to hew them down when the token should be +given; and these were indeed the priests of the god.</p> +<p>There was clear space round about these poor +slaughter-thralls, so that the bowmen could see them well, and +they told up a score of them, half men, half women, and they were +all stark naked save for wreaths of flowers about their middles +and their necks; and they had shackles of lead about their +wrists; which same lead should be taken out of the fire wherein +they should be burned, and from the shape it should take after it +had passed through the fire would the priests foretell the luck +of the deed to be done.</p> +<p>It was clear to be seen from thence that Folk-might was right +when he said that these slaughter-thralls were of the best of the +house-thralls and bed-mates of the Dusky Men, and that these +felons were open-handed to their god, and would not cheat him, or +withhold from him the best and most delicate of all they had.</p> +<p>Now spake Wood-wise to those about him: ‘It is sure that +Folk-might would have us give these poor thralls a chance, and +that we must loose upon the felons who would hew them down; and +if we are to come back again, we can go no nigher. What +sayest thou, Bow-may? Is it nigh enough? Can aught be +done?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, yea,’ she said, ‘nigh enough it is; +but let Gold-ring <a name="page334"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +334</span>be with me and half a score of the very best, whether +they be of our folk or the Woodlanders, men who cannot miss such +a mark; and when we have loosed, then let all loose, and stay not +till our shot be spent. Haste, now haste! time presseth; +for if the Host showeth on the brow of the hill, these felons +will hew down their slaughter-beasts before they turn on their +foemen. Let the grey-goose wing speed trouble and confusion +amongst them.’</p> +<p>But ere she had done her words Wood-wise had got to speaking +quietly with the Woodlanders; and Bears-bane, who was amidst +them, chose out eight of the best of his folk, men who doubted +nothing of hitting whatever they could see in the Market-place; +and they took their stand for shooting, and with them besides +Bow-may were two women and four men of the Wolf, and Gold-ring +withal, a carle of fifty winters, long, lean, and wiry, a fell +shooter if ever anyone were.</p> +<p>So all these notched their shafts and laid them on the yew, +and each had between the two last fingers of the shaft-hand +another shaft ready, and a half score more stuck into the ground +before him.</p> +<p>Now giveth Wood-wise the word to these sixteen as to which of +the felons with the glaives they shall each one aim at; and he +saith withal in a soft voice: ‘Help cometh from the Hill; +soon shall battle be joined in Silver-dale.’</p> +<p>Thus stand they watching Bow-may and Gold-ring till they draw +home the notches; and amidst their waiting the glaive-bearing +felons fall a-singing a harsh and ugly hymn to their +crooked-sword god, and the Market-stead is thronged endlong and +overthwart with the tribes of the Dusky Men.</p> +<p>There now standeth Bow-may far-sighted and keen-eyed, her face +as pale as a linen sleeve, an awful smile on her glittering eyes +and close-set lips, and she feeling the twisted string of the red +yew and the polished sides of the notch, while the yelling song +of the Dusky priests quavers now and ends with a wild shrill cry, +and she noteth the midmost of the priests beginning to handle <a +name="page335"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 335</span>his weapon: +then swift and steady she draweth home the notches, while the yew +bow standeth still as the oak-bole ere the summer storm ariseth, +and the twang of the sixteen strings maketh but one fell sound as +the feathered bane of men goeth on its way.</p> +<p>There was silence for a moment of time in the Market of +Silver-stead, as if the bolt of the Gods had fallen there; and +then arose a huge wordless yell from those about the altar, and +one of the priests who was left hove up his glaive two-handed to +smite the naked slaughter-thralls; but or ever the stroke fell, +Bow-may’s second shaft was through his throat, and he +rolled over amidst his dead fellows; and the other fifteen had +loosed with her, and then even as they could Wood-wise and the +others of their company; and all they notched and loosed without +tarrying, and no shout, no word came from their lips, only the +twanging strings spake for them; for they deemed the minutes that +hurried by were worth much joy of their lives to be. And +few indeed were the passing minutes ere the dead men lay in heaps +about the Altar of the Crooked Sword, and the wounded men +wallowed amidst them.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLIV. OF THE ONSLAUGHT OF THE MEN OF THE STEER, +THE BRIDGE, AND THE BULL.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Wild</span> was the turmoil and confusion +in the Market-stead; for the more part of the men therein knew +not what had befallen about the altar, though some clomb up to +the top of that stack of faggots built for the burning of the +thralls, and when they saw what was toward fell to yelling and +cursing; and their fellows on the plain Place could not hear +their story for the clamour, and they also fell to howling as if +a wood full of wild dogs was there.</p> +<p>And still the shafts rained down on that throng from the Bent +of the Bowmen, for another two score men of the Woodlanders <a +name="page336"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 336</span>had crept +down the hill to them, and shafts failed them not. But the +Dusky Men about the altar, for all their terror, or even maybe +because of it, now began to turn upon the scarce-seen foemen, and +to press up wildly toward the hill-side, though as it were +without any order or aim. Every man of them had his +weapons, and those no mere gilded toys, but their very tools of +battle; and some, but no great number, had their bows with them +and a few shafts; and these began to shoot at whatsoever they +could see on the hill-side, but at first so wildly and hurriedly +that they did no harm.</p> +<p>It must be said of them that at first only those about the +altar fell on toward the hill; for those about the road that led +southward knew not what had betided nor whither to turn. So +that at this beginning of the battle, of all the thousands in the +great Place it was but a few hundreds that set on the Bent of the +Bowmen, and at these the bowmen of the kindreds shot so close and +so wholly together that they fell one over another in the narrow +ways between the houses whereby they must needs go to gather on +the plain ground betwixt the backs of the houses and the break of +the hill-side. But little by little the archers of the +Dusky Men gathered behind the corpses of the slain, and fell to +shooting at what they could see of the men of the kindreds, which +at that while was not much, for as bold as they were, they fought +like wary hunters of the Wood and the Waste.</p> +<p>But now at last throughout all that throng of Felons in the +Market-place the tale began to spread of foemen come into the +Dale and shooting from the Bents, and all they turned their faces +to the hill, and the whole set of the throng was thitherward; +though they fared but slowly, so evil was the order of them, each +man hindering his neighbour as he went. And not only did +the Dusky Men come flockmeal toward the Bent of the Bowmen, but +also they jostled along toward the road that led southward. +That beheld Wood-wise from the Bent, and he was minded to get him +and his aback, now that they had made so <a +name="page337"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 337</span>great a +slaughter of the foemen; and two or three of his fellows had been +hurt by arrows, and Bow-may, she would have been slain thrice +over but for the hammer-work of the Alderman. And no marvel +was that; for now she stood on a little mound not half covered by +a thin thorn-bush, and notched and loosed at whatever was most +notable, as though she were shooting at the mark on a summer +evening in Shadowy Vale. But as Wood-wise was at point to +give the word to depart, from behind them rang out the merry +sound of the Burgdale horns, and he turned to look at the +wood-side, and lo! thereunder was the hill bright and dark with +men-at-arms, and over them floated the Banners of the Wolf, and +the Banners of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull. Then +gave forth the bowmen of the kindreds their first shout, and they +made no stay in their shooting; but shot the eagerer, for they +deemed that help would come without their turning about to draw +it to them: and even so it was. For straightway down the +bent came striding Face-of-god betwixt the two Banners of the +Wolf, and beside him were Red-wolf the tall and War-grove, and +therewithal Wood-wont and Wood-wicked, and many other men of the +Wolf; for now that the men of the kindreds had been brought face +to face with the foe, and there was less need of them for +way-leaders, the more part of them were liefer to fight under +their own banner along with the Woodlanders; so that the company +of those who went under the Wolves was more than three long +hundreds and a half; and the bowmen on the edge of the bent +shouted again and merrily, when they felt that their brothers +were amongst them, and presently was the arrow-storm at its +fiercest, and the twanging of bow-strings and the whistle of the +shafts was as the wind among the clefts of the mountains; for all +the new-comers were bowmen of the best.</p> +<p>But the kindreds of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull, they +hung yet a while longer on the hills’ brow, their banners +floating over them and their horns blowing; and the Dusky <a +name="page338"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 338</span>Felons in +the Market-place beheld them, and fear and rage at once filled +their hearts, and a fierce and dreadful yell brake out from them, +and joyously did the Men of Burgdale answer them, and song arose +amongst them even such as this:</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>The Men of the Bridge +sing</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">Why stand ye together, why bear ye the +shield,<br /> +Now the calf straineth tether at edge of the field?</p> +<p class="poetry">Now the lamb bleateth stronger and waters run +clear,<br /> +And the day groweth longer and glad is the year?</p> +<p class="poetry">Now the mead-flowers jostle so thick as they +stand,<br /> +And singeth the throstle all over the land?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>The Men of the Steer +sing</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">No cloud the day darkened, no thunder we +heard,<br /> +But the horns’ speech we hearkened as men unafeared.</p> +<p class="poetry">Yea, so merry it sounded, we turned from the +Dale,<br /> +Where all wealth abounded, to wot of its tale.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>The Men of the Bridge +sing</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">What white boles then bear ye, what wealth of +the woods?<br /> +What chafferers hear ye bid loud for your goods?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>The Men of the Bull +sing</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">O the bright beams we carry are stems of the +steel;<br /> +Nor long shall we tarry across them to deal.</p> +<p class="poetry">Hark the men of the cheaping, how loudly they +cry<br /> +On the hook for the reaping of men doomed to die!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>They all sing</i>:</p> +<p class="poetry">Heave spear up! fare forward, O Men of the +Dale!<br /> +For the Warrior, our war-ward, shall hearken the tale.</p> +<p><a name="page339"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +339</span>Therewith they ceased a moment, and then gave a great +and hearty shout all together, and all their horns blew, and they +moved on down the hill as one man, slowly and with no jostling, +the spear-men first, and then they of the axe and the sword; and +on their flanks the deft archers loosed on the stumbling jostling +throng of the Dusky Men, who for their part came on drifting and +surging up the road to the hill.</p> +<p>But when those big spearmen of the Dale had gone a little way +the horns’ voice died out, and their great-staved spears +rose up from their shoulders into the air, and stood so a moment, +and then slowly fell forward, as the oars of the longship fall +into the row-locks, and then over the shoulders of the foremost +men showed the steel of the five ranks behind them, and their own +spears cast long bars of shadow on the whiteness of the sunny +road. No sound came from them now save the rattle of their +armour and the tramp of their steady feet; but from the Dusky Men +rose up hideous confused yelling, and those that could free +themselves from the tangle of the throng rushed desperately +against the on-rolling hedge of steel, and the whole throng +shoved on behind them. Then met steel and men; here and +there an ash-stave broke; here and there a Dusky Felon rolled +himself unhurt under the ash-staves, and hewed the knees of the +Dalesmen, and a tall man came tottering down; but what men or +wood-wights could endure the push of spears of those mighty +husbandmen? The Dusky Ones shrunk back yelling, or turned +their backs and rushed at their own folk with such fierce agony +that they entered into the throng, till the terror of the spear +reached to the midmost of it and swayed them back on the +hindermost; for neither was there outgate for the felons on the +flanks of the spearmen, since there the feathered death beset +them, and the bowmen (and the Bride amongst the foremost) shot +wholly together, and no shaft flew idly. But the wise +leaders of the Dalesmen would not that they should thrust in too +far amongst the howling throng of the Dusky Men, lest they should +be hemmed in by them; for they were but a handful in regard to +them: so there they <a name="page340"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 340</span>stayed, barring the way to the Dusky +Men, and the bowmen still loosed from the flanks of them, or +aimed deftly from betwixt the ranks of the spearmen.</p> +<p>And now was there a space of ten strides or more betwixt the +Dalesmen and their foes, over which the spears hung terribly, nor +durst the Dusky Men adventure there; and thereon was nought but +men dead or sorely hurt. Then suddenly a horn rang thrice +shrilly over all the noise and clamour of the throng, and the +ranks of the spearmen opened, and forth into that space strode +two score of the swordsmen and axe-wielders of the Dale, their +weapons raised in their hands, and he who led them was Iron-hand +of the House of the Bull: tall he was, wide-shouldered, exceeding +strong, but beardless and fair-faced. He bore aloft a +two-edged sword, broad-bladed, exceeding heavy, so that few men +could wield it in battle, but not right long; it was an ancient +weapon, and his father before him had called it the +Barley-scythe. With him were some of the best of the +kindreds, as Wolf of Whitegarth, Long-hand of Oakholt, Hart of +Highcliff, and War-well the captain of the Bridge. These +made no tarrying on that space of the dead, but cried aloud their +cries: ‘For the Burg and the Steer! for the Dale and the +Bridge! for the Dale and the Bull!’ and so fell at once on +the Felons; who fled not, nor had room to flee; and also they +feared not the edge-weapons so sorely as they feared those huge +spears. So they turned fiercely on the swordsmen, and +chiefly on Iron-hand, as he entered in amongst them the first of +all, hewing to the right hand and the left, and many a man fell +before the Barley-scythe; for they were but little before +him. Yet as one fell another took his place, and hewed at +him with the steel axe and the crooked sword; and with many +strokes they clave his shield and brake his helm and rent his +byrny, while he heeded little save smiting with the +Barley-scythe, and the blood ran from his arm and his shoulder +and his thigh.</p> +<p>But War-well had entered in among the foe on his left hand, +and unshielded hove up a great broad-bladed axe, that clave the +<a name="page341"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 341</span>iron +helms of the Dusky Men, and rent their horn-scaled byrnies. +He was not very tall, but his shoulders were huge and his arms +long, and nought could abide his stroke. He cleared a ring +round Iron-hand, whose eyes were growing dim as the blood flowed +from him, and hewed three strokes before him; then turned and +drew the champion out of the throng, and gave him into the arms +of his fellows to stanch the blood that drained away the might of +his limbs; and then with a great wordless roar leaped back again +on the Dusky Men as the lion leapeth on the herd of swine; and +they shrank away before him; and all the swordsmen shouted, +‘For the Bridge, for the Bridge!’ and pressed on the +harder, smiting down all before them. On his left hand now +was Hart of Highcliff wielding a good sword hight Chip-driver, +wherewith he had slain and hurt a many, fighting wisely with +sword and shield, and driving the point home through the joints +of the armour. But even therewith, as he drave a great +stroke at a lord of the Dusky Ones, a cast-spear came flying and +smote him on the breast, so that he staggered, and the stroke +fell flatlings on the shield-boss of his foe, and Chip-driver +brake atwain nigh the hilts; but Hart closed with him, and smote +him on the face with the pommel, and tore his axe from his hand +and clave his skull therewith, and slew him with his own weapon, +and fought on valiantly beside War-well.</p> +<p>Now War-well had fought so fiercely that he had rent his own +hauberk with the might of his strokes, and as he raised his arm +to smite a huge stroke, a deft man of the Felons thrust the spike +of his war-axe up under his arm; and when War-well felt the smart +of the steel, he turned on that man, and, letting his axe fall +down to his wrist and hang there by its loop, he caught the +foeman up by the neck and the breech, and drave him against the +other Dusky Ones before him, so that their weapons pierced and +rent their own friend and fellow. Then he put forth the +might of his arms and the pith of his body, and hove up that +felon and cast him on to the heads of his fellow murder-carles, +so that he rent them and was <a name="page342"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 342</span>rent by them. Then War-well +fell on again with the axe, and all the champions of the Dale +shouted and fell on with him, and the foe shrank away; and the +Dalesmen cleared a space five fathoms’ length before them, +and the spearmen drew onward and stood on the space whereon the +first onslaught had been.</p> +<p>Then drew those hewers of the Dale together, and forth from +the company came the man that bare the Banner of the Bridget and +the champions gathered round him, and they ordered their ranks +and strode with the Banner before them three times to and fro +across the road athwart the front of the spearmen, and then with +a great shout drew back within the spear-hedge. Albeit five +of the champions of the Dale had been slain outright there, and +the more part of them hurt more or less.</p> +<p>But when all were well within the ranks, once again blew the +horn, and all the spears sank to the rest, and the kindreds drave +the spear-furrow, and a space was swept clear before them, and +the cries and yells of the Dusky Men were so fierce and wild that +the rough voices of the Dalesmen were drowned amidst them.</p> +<p>Forth then came every bowman of the kindred that was there and +loosed on the Dusky Men; and they forsooth had some bowmen +amongst them, but cooped up and jostled as they were they shot +but wildly; whereas each shaft of the Dale went home truly.</p> +<p>But amongst the bowmen forth came the Bride in her glittering +war-gear, and stepped lightly to the front of the spearmen. +Her own yew bow had been smitten by a shaft and broken in her +hand: so she had caught up a short horn bow and a quiver from one +of the slain of the Dusky Men; and now she knelt on one knee +under the shadow of the spears nigh to her grandsire Hall-ward, +and with a pale face and knitted brow notched and loosed, and +notched and loosed on the throng of foemen, as if she were some +daintily fashioned engine of war.</p> +<p>So fared the battle on the road that went from the south into +the Market-stead. Valiantly had the kindred fought there, +and <a name="page343"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 343</span>no +man of them had blenched, and much had they won; but the way was +perilous before them, for the foe was many and many.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLV. OF FACE-OF-GOD’S ONSLAUGHT.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> the banners of the Wolf flapped +and rippled over the heads of the Woodlanders and the Men of the +Wolf; and the men shot all they might, nor took heed now to cover +themselves against the shafts of the Dusky Men. As for +these, for all they were so many, their arrow-shot was no great +matter, for they were in very evil order, as has been said; and +moreover, their rage was so great to come to handy strokes with +these foemen, that some of them flung away their bows to brandish +the axe or the sword. Nevertheless were some among the +kindred hurt or slain by their arrows.</p> +<p>Now stood Face-of-god with the foremost; and from where he +stood he could see somewhat of the battle of the Dalesmen, and he +wotted that it was thriving; therefore he looked before him and +close around him, and noted what was toward there. The +space betwixt the houses and the break of the bent was crowded +with the fury of the Dusky Men tossing their weapons aloft, +crying to each other and at the kindred, and here and there +loosing a bow-string on them; but whatever was their rage they +might not come a many together past a line within ten fathom of +the bent’s end; for three hundred of the best of bowmen +were shooting at them so ceaselessly that no Dusky man was safe +of any bare place of his body, and they fell over one another in +that penfold of slaughter, and for all their madness did but +little.</p> +<p>Yet was the heart of the War-leader troubled; for he wotted +that it might not last for ever, and there seemed no end to the +throng of murder-carles; and the time would come when the +arrowshot would be spent, and they must needs come to handy +strokes, and that with so many.</p> +<p><a name="page344"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 344</span>Now a +voice spake to him as he gazed with knitted brows and careful +heart on that turmoil of battle:</p> +<p>‘What now hast thou done with the Sun-beam, and where is +her brother? Is the Chief of the Wolf skulking when our +work is so heavy? And thou meseemeth art overlate on the +field: the mowing of this meadow is no sluggard’s +work.’</p> +<p>He turned and beheld Bow-may, and gazed on her face for a +moment, and saw her eyes how they glittered, and how the pommels +of her cheeks were burning red and her lips dry and grey; but +before he answered he looked all round about to see what was to +note; and he touched Bow-may on the shoulder and pointed to down +below where a man of the Felons had just come out of the court of +one of the houses: a man taller than most, very gaily arrayed, +with gilded scales all over him, so that, with his dark face and +blue eyes, he looked like some strange dragon. Bow-may +spake not, but stamped her foot with anger. Yet if her +heart were hot, her hand was steady; for she notched a shaft, and +just as the Dusky Chief raised his axe and brandished it aloft, +she loosed, and the shaft flew and smote the felon in the armpit +and the default of the armour, and he fell to earth. But +even as she loosed, Face-of-god cried out in a loud voice:</p> +<p>‘O lads of battle! shoot close and all together. +Tarry not, tarry not! for we need a little time ere sword meets +sword, and the others of the kindreds are at work!’</p> +<p>But Bow-may turned round to him and said: ‘Wilt thou not +answer me? Where is thy kindness gone?’</p> +<p>Even as she was speaking she had notched and loosed another +shaft, speaking as folk do who turn from busy work at loom or +bench.</p> +<p>Then said Face-of-god: ‘Shoot on, sister Bow-may! +The Sun-beam is gone with her brother, and he is with the Men of +the Face.’</p> +<p>He broke off here, for a man fell beside him hurt in the neck, +and Face-of-god took his bow from his hands and shot a shaft, <a +name="page345"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 345</span>while one +of the women who had been hurt also tended the newly-wounded +man. Then Face-of-god went on speaking:</p> +<p>‘She was unwilling to go, but Folk-might and I +constrained her; for we knew that this is the most perilous place +of the battle—hah! see those three felons, Bow-may! they +are aiming hither.’</p> +<p>And again he loosed and Bow-may also, but a shaft rattled on +his helm withal and another smote a Woodlander beside him, and +pierced through the calf of his leg, as he turned and stooped to +take fresh arrows from a sheaf that lay there; but the carle took +it by the notch and the point, and brake it and drew it out, and +then stood up and went on shooting. And Face-of-god spake +again:</p> +<p>‘Folk-might skulketh not; nor the Men of the Vine, and +the Sickle, and the Face, nor the Shepherd-Folk: soon shall they +be making our work easy to us, if we can hold our own till +then. They are on the other roads that lead into the +square. Now suffer me, and shoot on!’</p> +<p>Therewith he looked round about him, and he saw on the left +hand that all was quiet; and before him was the confused throng +of the Dusky Men trampling their own dead and wounded, and not +able as yet to cross that death-line of the arrow so near to +them. But on his right hand he saw how they of the kindreds +held them firm on the way. Then for a moment of time he +considered and thought, till him-seemed he could see the whole +battle yet to be foughten; and his face flushed, and he said +sharply: ‘Bow-may, abide here and shoot, and show the +others where to shoot, while the arrows hold out; but we will go +further for a while, and ye shall follow when we have made the +rent great enough.’</p> +<p>She turned to him and said: ‘Why art thou not more +joyous? thou art like an host without music or +banners.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said he, ‘heed not me, but my +bidding!’</p> +<p>She said hastily: ‘I think I shall die here; since for +all we have shot we minish them nowise. Now kiss me this +once amidst the battle, and say farewell.’</p> +<p><a name="page346"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 346</span>He +said: ‘Nay, nay; it shall not go thus. Abide a little +while, and thou shalt see all this tangle open, as the sun +cleaveth the clouds on the autumn morning. Yet lo thou! +since thou wilt have it so.’</p> +<p>And he bent forward and kissed her face, and now the tears ran +over it, and she said smiling somewhat: ‘Now is this more +than I looked for, whatso may betide.’</p> +<p>But while she was yet speaking he cried in a great voice:</p> +<p>‘Ye who have spent your shot, or have nigh spent it, to +axe and sword, and follow me to clear the ground ’twixt the +bent and the halls. Let each help each, but throng not each +other. Shoot wisely, ye bowmen, and keep our backs clear of +the foe. On, on! for the Burg and the Face, for the Burg +and the Face!’</p> +<p>Therewith he leapt down the steep of the hill, bounding like +the hart, with Dale-warden naked in his hand; and they that +followed were two score and ten; and the arrows of their bowmen +rained over their heads on the Dusky Men, as they smote down the +first of the foemen, and the others shrieked and shrank from +them, or turned on them smiting wildly and desperately.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god swept round the great sword and plunged into +that sea of turmoil and noise and evil sights and savours, and +even therewith he heard clearly a voice that said: +‘Goldring, I am hurt; take my bow a while!’ and knew +it for Bow-may’s; but it came to his ears like the song of +a bird without meaning; for it was as if his life were changed at +once; and in a minute or two he had cut thrice with the edge and +thrust twice with the point, eager, but clear-eyed and deft; and +he saw as in a picture the foe before him, and the grey roofs of +Silver-stead, and through the gap in them the tops of the blue +ridges far aloof. And now had three fallen before him, and +they feared him, and turned on him, and smote so many together +that their strokes crossed each other, and one warded him from +the other; and he laughed aloud and shielded himself, and drave +the point of Dale-warden amidst the tangle of weapons through the +open <a name="page347"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +347</span>mouth of a captain of the Felons, and slashed a cheek +with a back-stroke, and swept round the edge to his right hand +and smote off a blue-eyed snub-nosed head; and therewith a +pole-axe smote him on the left side of his helm, so that he +tottered; but he swung himself round, and stood stark and +upright, and gave a short hack with the edge, keeping Dale-warden +well in hand, and a gold-clad felon, a champion of them, and +their tallest on the ground, fell aback, his throat gaping more +than the mouth of him.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god shouted and waved Dale-warden aloft to the +Banner of the Wolf that floated behind and above him, and he +cried out: ‘As I have promised so have I done!’ +And he looked about, and beheld how valiantly his fellows had +been doing; for before him now was a space of earth with no man +standing on his feet thereon, like the swathe of the mowers of +June; and beyond that was the crowd of the Dusky Men wavering +like the tall grass abiding the scythe.</p> +<p>But a minute, and they fell to casting at Face-of-god and his +fellows spears and knives and shields and whatsoever would fly; +and a spear smote him on the breast, but entered not; and a +bossed shield fell over his face withal, and a plummet of +sling-lead smote his helm, and he fell to earth; but leapt up +again straightway, and heard as he arose a great shout close to +him, and a shrill cry, and lo! at his left side Bow-may, her +sword in her hand, and the hand red with blood from a shaft-graze +on her wrist, and a white cloth stained with blood about her +neck; and on his right side Wood-wise bearing the banner and +crying the Wolf-whoop; for the whole company was come down from +the slope and stood around him.</p> +<p>Then for a little while was there such a stilling of the +tumult about him there, that he heard great and glad cries from +the Road of the South of ‘The Burg and the Steer! The +Dale and the Bridge! The Dale and the Bull!’ +And thereafter a terrible great shrieking cry, and a huge voice +that cried: ‘Death, <a name="page348"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 348</span>death, death to the Dusky +Men!’ And thereafter again fierce cries and great +tumult of the battle.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god shook Dale-warden in the air, and strode +forward fiercely, but not speedily, and the whole company went +foot for foot along with him; and as he went, would he or would +he not, song came into his mouth, a song of the meadows of the +Dale, even such as this:</p> +<p class="poetry">The wheat is done blooming and rust’s on +the sickle,<br /> + And green are the meadows grown after the scythe.<br +/> +Come, hands for the dance! For the toil hath been +mickle,<br /> + And ’twixt haysel and harvest ’tis time +to be blithe.</p> +<p class="poetry">And what shall the tale be now dancing is +over,<br /> + And kind on the meadow sits maiden by man,<br /> +And the old man bethinks him of days of the lover,<br /> + And the warrior remembers the field that he wan?</p> +<p class="poetry">Shall we tell of the dear days wherein we are +dwelling,<br /> + The best days of our Mother, the cherishing Dale,<br +/> +When all round about us the summer is telling,<br /> + To ears that may hearken, the heart of the tale?</p> +<p class="poetry">Shall we sing of these hands and these lips +that caress us,<br /> + And the limbs that sun-dappled lie light here +beside,<br /> +When still in the morning they rise but to bless us,<br /> + And oft in the midnight our footsteps abide?</p> +<p class="poetry">O nay, but to tell of the fathers were +better,<br /> + And of how we were fashioned from out of the +earth;<br /> +Of how the once lowly spurned strong at the fetter;<br /> + Of the days of the deeds and beginning of mirth.</p> +<p class="poetry">And then when the feast-tide is done in the +morning,<br /> + Shall we whet the grey sickle that bideth the +wheat,<br /> +<a name="page349"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 349</span>Till wan +grow the edges, and gleam forth a warning<br /> + Of the field and the fallow where edges shall +meet.</p> +<p class="poetry">And when cometh the harvest, and hook upon +shoulder<br /> + We enter the red wheat from out of the road,<br /> +We shall sing, as we wend, of the bold and the bolder,<br /> + And the Burg of their building, the beauteous +abode.</p> +<p class="poetry">As smiteth the sickle amid the sun’s +burning<br /> + We shall sing how the sun saw the token unfurled,<br +/> +When forth fared the Folk, with no thought of returning,<br /> + In the days when the Banner went wide in the +world.</p> +<p>Many saw that he was singing, but heard not the words of his +mouth, for great was the noise and clamour. But he heard +Bow-may, how she laughed by his side, and cried out:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane, dear-heart, now art thou merry indeed; and +glad am I, though they told me that I am hurt.—Ah! now +beware, beware!’</p> +<p>For indeed the Dusky Men, seeing the wall of steel rolling +down on them, and cooped up by the houses, so that they scarce +knew how to flee, turned in the face of death, the foremost of +them, and rushed furiously on the array of the Woodlanders, and +all those behind pressed on them like the big wave of the ebbing +sea when the gust of the wind driveth it landward.</p> +<p>The Woodlanders met them, shouting out: ‘The Greenwood +and the Wolf, the Greenwood and the Wolf!’ But not a +few of them fell there, though they gave not back a foot; for so +fierce now were the Dusky Men, that hewing and thrusting at them +availed nought, unless they were slain outright or stunned; and +even if they fell they rolled themselves up against their tall +foe-men, heeding not death or wounds if they might but slay or +wound. There then fell War-grove and ten others of the +Woodlanders, and four men of the Wolf, but none before he had +slain his foeman; and as each man fell or was hurt grievously, +another took his place.</p> +<p><a name="page350"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 350</span>Now a +felon leapt up and caught Gold-ring by the neck and drew him +down, while another strove to smite his head off; but the stout +carle drave a wood-knife into the side of the first felon, and +drew it out speedily and smote the other, the smiter, in the face +with the same knife, and therewith they all three rolled together +on the earth amongst the feet of men. Even so did another +felon by Bow-may, and dragged her down to the ground, and smote +her with a long knife as she tumbled down; and this was a feat of +theirs, for they were long-armed like apes.</p> +<p>But as to this felon, Dale-warden’s edge split his +skull, and Face-of-god gathered his might together and bestrode +Bow-may, till he had hewed a space round about him with great +two-handed strokes; and yet the blade brake not. Then he +caught up Bow-may from the earth, and the felon’s knife had +not pierced her hauberk, but she was astonied, and might not +stand upon her feet; and Face-of-god turned aside a little with +her, and half bore her, half thrust her through the throng to the +rearward of his folk, and left her there with two carlines of the +Wolf who followed the host for leechcraft’s sake, and then +turned back shouting: ‘For the Face, for the Face!’ +and there followed him back to the battle, a band of those who +were fresh as yet, and their blades unbloodied, the young men of +the Woodlands.</p> +<p>The wearier fighters made way for them as they came on +shouting, and Face-of-god was ahead of them all, and leapt at the +foemen as a man unwearied and striking his first stroke, so +wondrous hale he was; and they drave a wedge amidst of the Dusky +Men, and then turned about and stood back to back hewing at all +that drifted on them. But as Face-of-god cleared a space +about him, lo! almost within reach of his sword-point up rose a +grim shape from the earth, tall, grey-haired, and bloody-faced, +who uttered the Wolf-whoop from amidst the terror of his visage, +and turned and swung round his head an axe of the Dusky Men, and +fell to smiting them with their own weapon. The Dusky Men +shrieked in answer to his whoop, and all shrunk <a +name="page351"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 351</span>from him +and Face-of-god; but a cry of joy went up from the kindred, for +they knew Gold-ring, whom they deemed had been slain. So +they all pressed on together, smiting down the foe before them, +and the Dusky Men, some turned their backs and drave those behind +them, till they too turned and were strained through the passages +and courts of the houses, and some were overthrown and trodden +down as they strove to hold face to the Woodlanders, and some +were hewn down where they stood; but the whole throng of those +that were on their feet drifted toward the Market-place, the +Woodlanders following them ever with point and edge, till betwixt +the bent and the houses no foeman stood up against them.</p> +<p>Then they stood together, and raised the whoop of victory, and +blew their horns long and loud in token of their joy, and the +Woodland men lifted up their voices and sang:</p> +<p class="poetry"> Now far, far aloof<br /> + Standeth lintel and roof,<br /> + The dwelling of days<br /> + Of the Woodland ways:<br /> + Now nought wendeth there<br /> + Save the wolf and the bear,<br /> + And the fox of the waste<br /> + Faring soft without haste.<br /> +No carle the axe whetteth on oak-laden hill;<br /> +No shaft the hart letteth to wend at his will;<br /> +None heedeth the thunder-clap over the glade,<br /> +And the wind-storm thereunder makes no man afraid.<br /> +Is it thus then that endeth man’s days on Mid-earth,<br /> +For no man there wendeth in sorrow or mirth?</p> +<p class="poetry"> Nay, look down on the road<br +/> + From the ancient abode!<br /> + Betwixt acre and field<br /> + Shineth helm, shineth shield.<br /> + <a name="page352"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +352</span>And high over the heath<br /> + Fares the bane in his sheath;<br /> + For the wise men and bold<br /> + Go their ways o’er the wold.<br /> +Now the Warrior hath given them heart and fair day,<br /> +Unbidden, undriven, they fare to the fray.<br /> +By the rock and the river the banners they bear,<br /> +And their battle-staves quiver ’neath halbert and spear;<br +/> +On the hill’s brow they gather, and hang o’er the +Dale<br /> +As the clouds of the Father hang, laden with bale.</p> +<p class="poetry"> Down shineth the sun<br /> + On the war-deed half done;<br /> + All the fore-doomed to die,<br /> + In the pale dust they lie.<br /> + There they leapt, there they fell,<br /> + And their tale shall we tell;<br /> + But we, e’en in the gate<br /> + Of the war-garth we wait,<br /> +Till the drift of war-weather shall whistle us on,<br /> +And we tread all together the way to be won,<br /> +To the dear land, the dwelling for whose sake we came<br /> +To do deeds for the telling of song-becrowned fame.<br /> +Settle helm on the head then! Heave sword for the Dale!<br +/> +Nor be mocked of the dead men for deedless and pale.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVI. MEN MEET IN THE MARKET OF +SILVER-STEAD.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">So</span> sang they; but Face-of-god went +with Red-wolf, who was hurt sorely, but not deadly, and led him +back toward the place just under the break of the bent; and there +he found Bow-may in the hands of the women who were tending her +hurts. She <a name="page353"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +353</span>smiled on him from a pale face as he drew nigh, and he +looked kindly at her, but he might not abide there, for haste was +in his feet. He left Red-wolf to the tending of the women, +and clomb the bent hastily, and when he deemed he was high +enough, he looked about him; and somewhat more than half an hour +had worn since Bow-may had sped the first shaft against the Dusky +Men.</p> +<p>He looked down into the Market-stead, and deemed he could see +that nigh the Mote-house the Dusky Men were gathering into some +better order; but they were no longer drifting toward the +southern bents, but were standing round about the altar as men +abiding somewhat; and he deemed that they had gotten more bowshot +than before, and that most of them bare bows. Though so +many had been slain in the battles of the southern bents, yet was +the Market-stead full of them, so to say, for others had come +thereto in place of those that had fallen.</p> +<p>But now as he looked arose mighty clamour amongst them; and a +little west of the Altar was a stir and a hurrying onward and +around as in the eddies of a swift stream. Face-of-god +wotted not what was betiding there, but he deemed that they were +now ware of the onfall of Folk-might and Hall-face and the men of +Burgdale, for their faces were all turned to where that was to be +looked for.</p> +<p>So he turned and looked on the road to the east of him, where +had been the battle of the Steer, but now it was all gone down +toward the Market-place, and he could but hear the clamour of it; +but nought he saw thereof, because of the houses that hid it.</p> +<p>Then he cast his eyes on the road that entered the +Market-stead from the north, and he saw thereon many men +gathered; and he wotted not what they were; for though there were +weapons amongst them, yet were they not all weaponed, as far as +he could see.</p> +<p>Now as he looked this way and that, and deemed that he must +tarry no longer, but must enter into the courts of the houses <a +name="page354"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 354</span>before him +and make his way into the Market-stead, lo! a change in the +throng of Dusky Warriors nigh the Mote-house, and the ordered +bands about the Altar fell to drifting toward the western way +with one accord, with great noise and hurry and fierce cries of +wrath. Then made Face-of-god no delay, but ran down the +bent at once, and at the break of it came upon Bow-may standing +upright and sword in hand; and as he passed, she joined herself +to him, and said: ‘What new tidings now, +Gold-mane?’</p> +<p>‘Tidings of battle!’ he cried; ‘tidings of +victory! Folk-might hath fallen on, and the Dusky Men run +hastily to meet him. Hark, hark!’</p> +<p>For as he spoke came a great noise of horns, and Bow-may said: +‘What horn is that blowing?’</p> +<p>He stayed not, but shouted aloud: ‘For the Face, for the +Face! Now will we fall upon their backs!’</p> +<p>Therewith was he come to his company, and he cried out to +them: ‘Heard ye the horn, heard ye the horn? Now +follow me into the Market-place; much is yet to do!’</p> +<p>Even therewith came the sound of other horns, and all men were +silent a moment, and then shouted all together, for the +Wood-landers knew it for the horn of the Shepherds coming on by +the eastward way.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god waved his sword aloft and set on at once, and +they followed and gat them through the courts of the houses and +their passages into the Market-place. There they found more +room than they looked to find; for the foemen had drawn away on +the left hand toward the battle of Folk-might, and on the right +hand toward the battle of the Steer; and great was the noise and +cry that came thence.</p> +<p>Now stood Face-of-god under the two banners of the Wolf in the +Market-place of Silver-stead, and scarce had he time to be +high-hearted, for needs must he ponder in his mind what thing +were best to do. For on the left hand he deemed the foe was +the <a name="page355"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +355</span>strongest and best ordered; but there also were the +kindreds the doughtiest, and it was little like that the felons +should overcome the spear-casters of the Face and the +glaive-bearers of the Sickle, and the bowmen of the Vine: there +also were the wisest leaders, as the stark elder Stone-face, and +the tall Hall-face, and his father of the unshaken heart, and +above all Folk-might, fierce in his wrath, but his anger burning +steady and clear, like the oaken butt on the hearth of the +hall.</p> +<p>Then as his mind pictured him amongst the foe, it made +therewith another picture of the slender warrior Sun-beam caught +in the tangle of battle, and longing for him and calling for him +amidst the hard hand-play. And thereat his face flushed, +and all his body waxed hot, and he was on the very point of +leading the onset against the foe on the left. But +therewith he bethought him of the bold men of the Steer and the +Bridge and the Bull weary with much fighting; and he remembered +also that the Bride was amongst them and fighting, it might be, +amidst the foremost, and if she were slain how should he ever +hold up his head again. He bethought him also that the +Shepherds, who had fallen on by the eastern road, valiant as they +were, were scarce so well armed or so well led as the +others. Therewithal he bethought him (and again it came +like a picture into his mind) of falling on the foemen by whom +the southern battle was beset, and then the twain of them meeting +the Shepherds, and lastly, all those three companies joined +together clearing the Market-place, and meeting the men under +Folk-might in the midst thereof.</p> +<p>Therefore, scant had he been pondering these things in his +mind for a minute ere he cried out: ‘Blow up horns, blow +up! forward banners, and follow me, O valiant men! to the helping +of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull; deep have they thrust +into the Dusky Throng, and belike are hard pressed. Hark +how the clamour ariseth from their besetters! On now, +on!’</p> +<p>Therewith hung a star of sunlight on his sword as he raised it +aloft, and the Wolf-whoop rang out terribly in the Market-place, +<a name="page356"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 356</span>for now +had the Woodlanders also learned it, and the hearts of the foemen +sank as they heard the might and the mass thereof. Then the +battle of the Woodlanders swept round and fell upon the flank of +them who were besetting the kindreds, as an iron bar smiteth the +soft fir-wood; and they of the kindreds heard their cry, but +faintly and confusedly, so great was the turmoil of battle about +them.</p> +<p>Now once more was Bow-may by the side of Face-of-god; and if +she had not the might of the mightiest, yet had she the deftness +of the deftest. And now was she calm and cool, shielding +herself with a copper-bossed target, and driving home the point +of her sharp sword; white was her face, and her eyes glittered +amidst it, and she seemed to men like to those on whose heads the +Warrior hath laid the Holy Bread.</p> +<p>As to Wood-wise, he had given the Banner of the red-jawed Wolf +to Stone-wolf, a huge and dreadful warrior some forty winters +old, who had fought in the Great Overthrow, and now hewed down +the Dusky Men, wielding a heavy short-sword left-handed. +But Wood-wise himself fought with a great sword, giving great +strokes to the right hand and the left, and was no more hasty +than is the hewer in the winter wood.</p> +<p>Face-of-god fought wisely and coldly now, and looked more to +warding his friends than destroying his foes, and both to Bow-may +and Wood-wise his sword was a shield; for oft he took the life +from the edge of the upraised axe, and stayed the point of the +foeman in mid-air.</p> +<p>Even so wisely fought the whole band of the Woodlanders and +the Wolves, who got within smiting space of the foe; for they had +no will to cast away their lives when assured victory was so nigh +to them. Sooth to say, the hand-play was not so hard to +them as it had been betwixt the bent and the houses; for the +Dusky Men were intent on dealing with the men of the kindreds +from the southern road, who stood war-wearied before them; and +they were hewing and casting at them, and baying <a +name="page357"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 357</span>and yelling +like dogs; and though they turned about to meet the storm of the +Woodlanders, yet their hearts failed them withal, and they strove +to edge away from betwixt those two fearful scythes of war, +fighting as men fleeing, not as men in onset. But still the +Woodlanders and the Wolves came on, hewing and thrusting, smiting +down the foemen in heaps, till the Dusky Throng grew thin, and +the staves of the Dalesmen and their bright banners in the +morning sun were clear to see, and at last their very faces, +kindly and familiar, worn and strained with the stress of battle, +or laughing wildly, or pale with the fury of the fight. +Then rose up to the heavens the blended shout of the Woodlanders +and the Dalesmen, and now there was nought of foemen betwixt them +save the dead and the wounded.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god thrust his sword into its sheath all bloody +as it was, and strode over the dead men to where Hall-ward stood +under the banner of the Steer, and cast his arms about the old +carle, and kissed him for joy of the victory. But Hall-ward +thrust him aback and looked him in the face, and his cheeks were +pale and his lips clenched, and his eyes haggard and staring, and +he said in a harsh voice:</p> +<p>‘O young man, she is dead! I saw her fall. +The Bride is dead, and thou hast lost thy troth-plight maiden. O +death, death to the Dusky Men!’</p> +<p>Then grew Face-of-god as pale as a linen sleeve, and all the +new-comers groaned and cried out. But a bystander said: +‘Nay, nay, it is nought so bad as that; she is hurt, and +sorely; but she liveth yet.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god heard him not. He forgot Dale-warden lying +in his sheath, and he saw that the last speaker had a great +wood-axe broad and heavy in his hand, so he cried: ‘Man, +man, thine axe!’ and snatched it from him, and turned about +to the foe again, and thrust through the ranks, suffering none to +stay him till all his friends were behind and all his foes before +him. And as he burst forth from the ranks waving his axe +aloft, bare-headed <a name="page358"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +358</span>now, his yellow hair flying abroad, his mouth crying +out, ‘Death, death, death to the Dusky Men!’ fear of +him smote their hearts, and they howled and fled before him as +they might; for they said that the Dalesmen had prayed their Gods +into the battle. But not so fast could they flee but he was +presently amidst them, smiting down all about him, and they so +terror-stricken that scarce might they raise a hand against +him. All that blended host followed him mad with wrath and +victory, and as they pressed on, they heard behind them the horns +and war-cries of the Shepherds falling on from the east. +Nought they heeded that now, but drave on a fearful storm of war, +and terrible was the slaughter of the Felons.</p> +<p>It was but a few minutes ere they had driven them up against +that great stack of faggots that had been dight for the +burnt-offering of men, and many of the felons had mounted up on +to it, and now in their anguish of fear were shooting arrows and +casting spears on all about them, heeding little if they were +friend or foe. Now were the men of the kindreds at point to +climb this twiggen burg; but by this time the fury of Face-of-god +had run clear, and he knew where he was and what he was doing; so +he stayed his folk, and cried out to them: ‘Forbear, climb +not! let the torch help the sword!’ And therewith he +looked about and saw the fire-pot which had been set down there +for the kindling of the bale-fire, and the coals were yet red in +it; so he snatched up a dry brand and lighted it thereat, and so +did divers others, and they thrust them among the faggots, and +the fire caught at once, and the tongues of flame began to leap +from faggot to faggot till all was in a light low; for the wood +had been laid for that very end, and smeared with grease and oil +so that the burning to the god might be speedy.</p> +<p>But the fierceness of the kindreds heeded not the fire, nor +overmuch the men who leapt down from the stack before it, but +they left all behind them, faring straight toward the western +outgate from the Market-stead; and Face-of-god still led them on; +<a name="page359"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 359</span>though +by now he was wholly come to his right mind again, albeit the +burden of sorrow yet lay heavy on his heart. He had broken +his axe, and had once more drawn Dale-warden from his sheath, and +many felt his point and edge.</p> +<p>But now, as they chased, came a rush of men upon them again, +as though a new onset were at hand. That saw Face-of-god +and Hall-ward and War-well, and other wise leaders of men, and +they bade their folk forbear the chase, and lock their ranks to +meet the onfall of this new wave of foemen. And they did +so, and stood fast as a wall; but lo! the onrush that drave up +against them was but a fleeing shrieking throng, and no longer an +array of warriors, for many had cast away their weapons, and were +rushing they knew not whither; for they were being thrust on the +bitter edges of Face-of-god’s companies by the terror of +the fleers from the onset of the men of the Face, the Sickle, and +the Vine, whom Hall-face and Stone-face were leading, along with +Folk-might. Then once again the men of Face-of-god gave +forth the whoop of victory, and pressed forward again, hewing +their way through the throng of fleers, but turning not to chase +to the right or the left; while at their backs came on the +Shepherd-folk, who had swept down all that withstood them; for +now indeed was the Market-stead getting thinner of living +men.</p> +<p>So led the War-leader his ordered ranks, till at last over the +tangled crowd of runaways he saw the banners of the Burg and the +Face flashing against the sun, and heard the roar of the kindreds +as they drave the chase towards them. Then he lifted up his +sword, and stood still, and all the host behind him stayed and +cast a huge shout up to the heavens, and there they abode the +coming of the other Dalesmen.</p> +<p>But the War-leader sent a message to Hound-under-Greenbury, +bidding him lead the Shepherds to the chase of the Dusky Men, who +were now all fleeing toward the northern outgate of the +Market. Howbeit he called to mind the throng he had seen on +the northern road before they were come into the Market-stead, <a +name="page360"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 360</span>and deemed +that way also death awaited the foemen, even if the men of the +kindreds forbore them.</p> +<p>But presently the space betwixt the Woodlanders and the men of +the Face was clear of all but the dead, so that friend saw the +face of friend; and it could be seen that the warriors of the +Face were ruddy and smiling for joy, because the battle had been +easy to them, and but few of them had fallen; for the Dusky Men +who had left the Market-stead to fall on them, had had room for +fleeing behind them, and had speedily turned their backs before +the spear-casting of the men of the Face and the onrush of the +swordsmen.</p> +<p>There then stood these victorious men facing one another, and +the banner-bearers on either side came through the throng, and +brought the banners together between the two hosts; and the Wolf +kissed the Face, and the Sickle and the Vine met the Steer and +the Bridge and the Bull: but the Shepherds were yet chasing the +fleers.</p> +<p>There in the forefront stood Hall-face the tall, with the joy +of battle in his eyes. And Stone-face, the wise carle in +war, stood solemn and stark beside him; and there was the goodly +body and the fair and kindly visage of the Alderman smiling on +the faces of his friends. But as for Folk-might, his face +was yet white and aweful with anger, and he looked restlessly up +and down the front of the kindreds, though he spake no word.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god could no longer forbear, but he thrust +Dale-warden into his sheath, and ran forward and cast his arms +about his father’s neck and kissed him; and the blood of +himself and of the foemen was on him, for he had been hurt in +divers places, but not sorely, because of the good hammer-work of +the Alderman.</p> +<p>Then he kissed his brother and Stone-face, and he took +Folk-might by the hand, and was on the point of speaking some +word to him, when the ranks of the Face opened, and lo! the +Sun-beam in her bright war-gear, and the sword girt to her side, +and she unhurt and unsullied.</p> +<p><a name="page361"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 361</span>Then +was it to him as when he met her first in Shadowy Vale, and he +thought of little else than her; but she stepped lightly up to +him, and unashamed before the whole host she kissed him on the +mouth, and he cast his mailed arms about her, and joy made him +forget many things and what was next to do, though even at that +moment came afresh a great clamour of shrieks and cries from the +northern outgate of the Market-stead: and the burning pile behind +them cast a great wavering flame into the air, contending with +the bright sun of that fair day, now come hard on noontide. +But ere he drew away his face from the Sun-beam’s, came +memory to him, and a sharp pang shot through his heart, as he +heard Folk-might say: ‘Where then is the Shield-may of +Burgstead? where is the Bride?’</p> +<p>And Face-of-god said under his breath: ‘She is dead, she +is dead!’ And then he stared out straight before him +and waited till someone else should say it aloud. But +Bow-may stepped forward and said: ‘Chief of the Wolf, be of +good cheer; our kinswoman is hurt, but not deadly.’</p> +<p>The Alderman’s face changed, and he said: ‘Hast +thou seen her, Bow-may?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said. ‘How should I leave +the battle? but others have told me who have seen her.’</p> +<p>Folk-might stared into the ranks of men before him, but said +nothing. Said the Alderman: ‘Is she well +tended?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, surely,’ said Bow-may, ‘since she is +amongst friends, and there are no foemen behind us.’</p> +<p>Then came a voice from Folk-might which said: ‘Now were +it best to send good men and deft in arms, and who know +Silver-dale, from house to house, to search for foemen who may be +lurking there.’</p> +<p>The Alderman looked kindly and sadly on him and said:</p> +<p>‘Kinsman Stone-face, and Hall-face my son, the brunt of +the battle is now over, and I am but a simple man amongst you; +therefore, if ye will give me leave, I will go see this poor +kinswoman of ours, and comfort her.’</p> +<p><a name="page362"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 362</span>They +bade him go: so he sheathed his sword, and went through the press +with two men of the Steer toward the southern road; for the Bride +had been brought into a house nigh the corner of the +Market-place.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god looked after his father as he went, and +remembrance of past days came upon him, and such a storm of grief +swept over him, as he thought of the Bride lying pale and +bleeding and brought anigh to her death, that he put his hands to +his face and wept as a child that will not be comforted; nor had +he any shame of all those bystanders, who in sooth were men good +and kindly, and had no shame of his grief or marvelled at it, for +indeed their own hearts were sore for their lovely kinswoman, and +many of them also wept with Face-of-god. But the Sun-beam +stood by and looked on her betrothed, and she thought many things +of the Bride, and was sorry, albeit no tears came into her eyes; +then she looked askance at Folk-might and trembled; but he said +coldly, and in a loud voice:</p> +<p>‘Needs must we search the houses for the lurking felons, +or many a man will yet be murdered. Let Wood-wicked lead a +band of men at once from house to house.’</p> +<p>Then said a man of the Wolf hight Hardgrip: ‘Wood-wicked +was slain betwixt the bent and the houses.’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘Let it be Wood-wise then.’</p> +<p>But Bow-may said: ‘Wood-wise is even now hurt in the leg +by a wounded felon, and may not go afoot.’</p> +<p>Then said Folk-might: ‘Is Crow the Shaft-speeder +anigh?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, here am I,’ quoth a tall man of fifty +winters, coming from out the ranks where stood the Wolves.</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘Kinsman Crow, do thou take two score +and ten of doughty men who are not too hot-headed, and search +every house about the Market-place; but if ye come on any house +that makes a stout defence, send ye word thereof to the +Mote-house, where we will presently be, and we shall send you +help. Slay every felon that ye fall in with; but if ye find +in the <a name="page363"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +363</span>houses any of the poor folk crouching and afraid, +comfort their hearts all ye may, and tell them that now is life +come to them.’</p> +<p>So Crow fell to getting his band together, and presently +departed with them on his errand.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVII. THE KINDREDS WIN THE MOTE-HOUSE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> din and tumult still came from +the north side of the Market-place, so that all the air was full +of noise; and Face-of-god deemed that the thralls had gotten +weapons into their hands and were slaying their masters.</p> +<p>Now he lifted up his face, and put his hand on +Folk-might’s shoulder, and said in a loud voice:</p> +<p>‘Kinsmen, it were well if our brother were to bid the +banners into the Mote-house of the Wolf, and let all the Host set +itself in array before the said house, and abide till the chasers +of the foe come to us thither; for I perceive that they are now +become many, and are more than those of our kindred.’</p> +<p>Then Folk-might looked at him with kind eyes, and said:</p> +<p>‘Thou sayest well, brother; even so let it +be!’</p> +<p>And he lifted up his sword, and Face-of-god cried out in a +loud voice: ‘Forward, banners! blow up horns! fare we forth +with victory!’</p> +<p>So the Host drew its ranks together in good order, and they +all set forward, and old Stone-face took the Sun-beam by the hand +and led on behind Folk-might and the War-leader. But when +they came to the Hall, then saw they how the steps that led up to +the door were high and double, going up from each side without +any railing or fool-guard; and crowding the stairs and the +platform thereof was a band of the Dusky Men, as many as could +stand thereon, who shot arrows at the host of the kindreds, +howling like dogs, and chattering like apes; and arrows and <a +name="page364"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 364</span>spears came +from the windows of the Hall; yea, and on the very roof a score +of these felons were riding the ridge and mocking like the trolls +of old days.</p> +<p>Now when they saw this they stayed a while, and men shielded +them against the shafts; but the leaders drew together in front +of the Host, and Folk-might fell to speech; and his face was very +pale and stern; for now he had had time to think of the case of +the Bride, and fierce wrath, and grief unholpen filled his +soul. So he said:</p> +<p>‘Brothers, this is my business to deal with; for I see +before me the stair that leadeth to the Mote-house of my people, +and now would I sit there whereas my fathers sat, when peace was +on the Dale, as once more it shall be to-morrow. Therefore +up this stair will I go, and none shall hinder me; and let no man +of the host follow me till I have entered into the Hall, unless +perchance I fall dead by the way; but stand ye still and look +on.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘this is partly the +business of the War-leader. There are two stairs. Be +content to take the southern one, and I will take the +northern. We shall meet on the plain stone at the +top.’</p> +<p>But Hall-face said: ‘War-leader, may I speak?’</p> +<p>‘Speak, brother,’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>Said Hall-face: ‘I have done but little to-day, +War-leader. I would stand by thee on the northern stair; so +shall Folk-might be content, if he doeth two men’s work who +are not little-hearted.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘The doom of the War-leader is that +Folk-might shall fall on by the southern stair to slake his grief +and increase his glory, and Face-of-god and Hall-face by the +northern. Haste to the work, O brothers!’</p> +<p>And he and Hall-face went to their places, while all looked +on. But the Sun-beam, with her hand still in +Stone-face’s, she turned white to the lips, and stared with +wild eyes before her, not knowing where she was; for she had +deemed that the battle was over, and Face-of-god saved from +it.</p> +<p><a name="page365"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 365</span>But +Folk-might tossed up his head and laughed, and cried out, +‘At last, at last!’ And his sword was in his +hand, the Sleep-thorn to wit, a blade of ancient fame; so now he +let it fall and hang to his wrist by the leash, while he clapped +his hands together and uttered the Wolf-whoop mightily, and all +the men of the Wolf that were in the host, and the Woodlanders +withal, uttered it with him. Then he put his shield over +his head and stood before the first of the steps, and the Dusky +Men laughed to see one man come against them, though there was +death in their hearts. But he laughed back at them in +triumph, and set his foot on the step, and let +Sleep-thorn’s point go into the throat of a Dusky lord, and +thrust amongst them, hewing right and left, and tumbling men over +the edge of the stair, which was to them as the narrow path along +the cliff-side that hangeth over the unfathomed sea. They +hewed and thrust at him in turn; but so close were they packed +that their weapons crossed about him, and one shielded him from +the other, and they swayed staggering on that fearful verge, +while the Sleep-thorn crept here and there amongst them, lulling +their hot fury. For, as desperate as they were, and +fighting for death and not for life, they had a horror of him and +of the sea of hatred below them, and feared where to set their +feet, and he feared nought at all, but from feet to sword-point +was but an engine of slaughter, while the heart within him +throbbed with fury long held back as he thought upon the Bride +and her wounding, and all the wrongs of his people since their +Great Undoing.</p> +<p>So he smote and thrust, till him-seemed the throng of foes +thinned before him: with his sword-pommel he smote a lord of the +Dusky Ones in the face, so that he fell over the edge amongst the +spears of the kindred; then he thrust the point of Sleep-thorn +towards the Hall-door through the breast of another, and then it +seemed to him that he had but one before him; so he hove up the +edges to cleave him down, but ere the stroke fell, close to his +ears exceeding loud rang out the cry, ‘For the Burg and the +Face! for the Face, for the Face!’ and he drew aback a +little, and his eyes <a name="page366"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 366</span>cleared, and lo! it was Hall-face +the tall, his long sword all reddened with battle; and beside him +stood Face-of-god, silent and panting, his face pale with the +fierce anger of the fight, and the weariness which was now at +last gaining upon him. There stood those three with no +other living man upon the plain of the stairs.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god turned shouting to the Folk, and cried:</p> +<p>‘Forth now with the banners! For now is the Wolf +come home. On into the Hall, O Kindred of the +Gods!’</p> +<p>Then poured the Folk up over the stairs and into the Hall of +the Wolf, the banners flapping over their heads; and first went +the War-leader and Folk-might and Hall-face, and then the three +delivered thralls, Wolf-stone, God-swain, and Spear-fist, and +Dallach with them, though both he and Wolf-stone had been hurt in +the battle; and then came blended together the Men of the Face +along with them of the Wolf who had entered the Market-stead with +them, and with these were Stone-face and Wood-wont and Bow-may, +leading the Sun-beam betwixt them; and now was she come to +herself again, though her face was yet pale, and her eyes gleamed +as she stepped across the threshold of the Hall.</p> +<p>But when a many were gotten in, and the first-comers had had +time to handle their weapons and look about them, a cry of the +utmost wrath broke from Folk-might and those others who +remembered the Hall from of old. For wretched and befouled +was that well-builded house: the hangings rent away; the goodly +painted walls daubed and smeared with wicked tokens of the Alien +murderers: the floor, once bright with polished stones of the +mountain, and strewn with sweet-smelling flowers, was now as foul +as the den of the man-devouring troll of the heaths. From +the fair-carven roof of oak and chestnut-beams hung ugly knots of +rags and shapeless images of the sorcery of the Dusky Men. +And furthermore, and above all, from the last tie-beam of the +roof over the daïs dangled four shapes of men-at-arms, whom +the older men of the Wolf knew at once for the embalmed bodies of +their four great chieftains, who had been slain on the day of the +<a name="page367"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 367</span>Great +Undoing; and they cried out with horror and rage as they saw them +hanging there in their weapons as they had lived.</p> +<p>There was the Hostage of the Earth, his shield painted with +the green world circled with the worm of the sea. There was +the older Folk-might, the uncle of the living man, bearing a +shield with an oak and a lion done thereon. There was +Wealth-eker, on whose shield was done a golden sheaf of +wheat. There was he who bore a name great from of old, +Folk-wolf to wit, bearing on his shield the axe of the +hewer. There they hung, dusty, befouled, with sightless +eyes and grinning mouths, in the dimmed sunlight of the Hall, +before the eyes of that victorious Host, stricken silent at the +sight of them.</p> +<p>Underneath them on the daïs stood the last remnant of the +battle of the Dusky Men; and they, as men mad with coming death, +shook their weapons, and with shrieking laughter mocked at the +overcomers, and pointed to the long-dead chiefs, and called on +them in the tongue of the kindreds to come down and lead their +dear kinsmen to the high-seat; and then they cried out to the +living warriors of the Wolf, and bade them better their deed of +slaying, and set to work to make alive again, and cause their +kinsmen to live merry on the earth.</p> +<p>With that last mock they handled their weapons and rushed +howling on the warriors to meet their death; nor was it long +denied them; for the sword of the Wolf, the axe of the Woodland, +and the spear of the Dale soon made an end of the dreadful lives +of these destroyers of the Folks.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVIII. MEN SING IN THE MOTE-HOUSE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Then</span> strode the Warriors of the +Wolf over the bodies of the slain on to the daïs of their +own Hall; and Folk-might led the Sun-beam by the hand, and now +was his sword in its sheath, and his face was grown calm, though +it was stern and <a name="page368"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +368</span>sad. But even as he trod the daïs comes a +slim swain of the Wolves twisting himself through the throng, and +so maketh way to Folk-might, and saith to him:</p> +<p>‘Chieftain, the Alderman of Burgdale sendeth me hither +to say a word to thee; even this, which I am to tell to thee and +the War-leader both: It is most true that our kinswoman the Bride +will not die, but live. So help me, the Warrior and the +Face! This is the word of the Alderman.’</p> +<p>When Folk-might heard this, his face changed and he hung his +head; and Face-of-god, who was standing close by, beheld him and +deemed that tears were falling from his eyes on to the +hall-floor. As for him, he grew exceeding glad, and he +turned to the Sun-beam and met her eyes, and saw that she could +scarce refrain her longing for him; and he was abashed for the +sweetness of his love. But she drew close up to him, and +spake to him softly and said:</p> +<p>‘This is the day that maketh amends; and yet I long for +another day. When I saw thee coming to me that first day in +Shadowy Vale, I thought thee so goodly a warrior that my heart +was in my mouth. But now how goodly thou art! For the +battle is over, and we shall live.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, ‘and none shall +begrudge us our love. Behold thy brother, the hard-heart, +the warrior; he weepeth because he hath heard that the Bride +shall live. Be sure then that she shall not gainsay +him. O fair shall the world be to-morrow!’</p> +<p>But she said: ‘O Gold-mane, I have no words. Is +there no minstrelsy amongst us?’</p> +<p>Now by this time were many of the men <a +name="page369"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 369</span>of the Wolf +and the Woodlanders gathered on the daïs of the Hall; and +the Dalesmen noting this, and wotting that these men were now in +their own Mote-house, withdrew them as they might for the press +toward the nether end thereof. That the Sun-beam noted, and +that all those about her save the War-leader were of the kindreds +of the Wolf and the Woodland, and, still speaking softly, she +said to Face-of-god:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane, meseemeth I am now in my wrong place; for +now the Wolf raiseth up his head, but I am departing from +him. Surely I should now be standing amongst my people of +the Face, whereto I am going ere long.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Beloved, I am now become thy kindred and thine +home, and it is meet for thee to stand beside me.’</p> +<p>She cast her eyes adown and answered not; and she fell +a-pondering of how sorely she had desired that fair dale, and now +she would leave it, and be content and more than content.</p> +<p>But now the kindreds had sundered, they upon the daïs +ranked themselves together there in the House which their fathers +had builded; and when they saw themselves so meetly ordered, +their hearts being full with the sweetness of hope accomplished +and the joy of deliverance from death, song arose amongst them, +and they fell to singing together; and this is somewhat of their +singing:</p> +<p class="poetry"> Now raise we the lay<br /> + Of the long-coming day!<br /> + Bright, white was the sun<br /> + When we saw it begun:<br /> + O’er its noon now we live;<br /> + It hath ceased not to give;<br /> + It shall give, and give more<br /> + From the wealth of its store.<br /> +O fair was the yesterday! Kindly and good<br /> +Was the wasteland our guester, and kind was the wood;<br /> +Though below us for reaping lay under our hand<br /> +The harvest of weeping, the grief of the land;<br /> +Dumb cowered the sorrow, nought daring to cry<br /> +On the help of to-morrow, the deed drawing nigh.</p> +<p class="poetry"> <a name="page370"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 370</span>All increase throve<br /> + In the Dale of our love;<br /> + There the ox and the steed<br /> + Fed down the mead;<br /> + The grapes hung high<br /> + ’Twixt earth and sky,<br /> + And the apples fell<br /> + Round the orchard well.<br /> +Yet drear was the land there, and all was for nought;<br /> +None put forth a hand there for what the year wrought,<br /> +And raised it o’erflowing with gifts of the earth.<br /> +For man’s grief was growing beside of the mirth<br /> +Of the springs and the summers that wasted their wealth;<br /> +And the birds, the new-comers, made merry by stealth.</p> +<p class="poetry"> Yet here of old<br /> + Abode the bold;<br /> + Nor had they wailed<br /> + Though the wheat had failed,<br /> + And the vine no more<br /> + Gave forth her store.<br /> + Yea, they found the waste good<br /> + For the fearless of mood.<br /> +Then to these, that were dwelling aloof from the Dale,<br /> +Fared the wild-wind a-telling the worst of the tale;<br /> +As men bathed in the morning they saw in the pool<br /> +The image of scorning, the throne of the fool.<br /> +The picture was gleaming in helm and in sword,<br /> +And shone forth its seeming from cups of the board.</p> +<p class="poetry"> Forth then they came<br /> + With the battle-flame;<br /> + From the Wood and the Waste<br /> + And the Dale did they haste:<br /> + <a name="page371"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +371</span>They saw the storm rise,<br /> + And with untroubled eyes<br /> + The war-storm they met;<br /> + And the rain ruddy-wet.<br /> +O’er the Dale then was litten the Candle of Day,<br /> +Night-sorrow was smitten, and gloom fled away.<br /> +How the grief-shackles sunder! How many to morn<br /> +Shall awaken and wonder how gladness was born!<br /> +O wont unto sorrow, how sweet unto you<br /> +Shall be pondering to-morrow what deed is to do!</p> +<p class="poetry"> Fell many a man<br /> + ’Neath the edges wan,<br /> + In the heat of the play<br /> + That fashioned the day.<br /> + Praise all ye then<br /> + The death of men,<br /> + And the gift of the aid<br /> + Of the unafraid!<br /> +O strong are the living men mighty to save,<br /> +And good is their giving, and gifts that we have!<br /> +But the dead, they that gave us once, never again;<br /> +Long and long shall they save us sore trouble and pain.<br /> +O Banner above us, O God of the strong,<br /> +Love them as ye love us that bore down our wrong!</p> +<p>So they sang in the Hall; and there was many a man wept, as +the song ended, for those that should never see the good days of +the Dale, and all the joy that was to be; and men swore, by all +that they loved, that they would never forget those that had +fallen in the Winning of Silver-dale; and that when each year the +Cups of Memory went round, they should be no mere names to them, +but the very men whom they had known and loved.</p> +<h2><a name="page372"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +372</span>CHAPTER XLIX. DALLACH FARETH TO ROSE-DALE: CROW +TELLETH OF HIS ERRAND: THE KINDREDS EAT THEIR MEAT IN +SILVER-DALE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> Dallach, who had gone away for +a while, came back again into the Hall; and at his back were a +half score of men who bore ladders with them: they were stout +men, clad in scanty and ragged raiment, but girt with swords and +bearing axes, those of them who were not handling the +ladders. Men looked on them curiously, because they saw +them to be of the roughest of the thralls. They were sullen +and fierce-eyed to behold, and their hands and bare arms were +flecked with blood; and it was easy to see that they had been +chasing the fleers, and making them pay for their many torments +of past days.</p> +<p>But when Face-of-god beheld this he cried out: ‘Ho, +Dallach! is it so that thou hast bethought thee to bring in +hither men to fall to the cleansing of the Hall, and to do away +the defiling of the Dusky Men?’</p> +<p>‘Even so, War-leader,’ said Dallach; ‘also +ye shall know that all battle is over in Silver-stead; for the +thralls fell in numbers not to be endured on the Dusky Men who +had turned their backs to us, and hindered them from fleeing +north. But though they have slain many, they have not slain +all, and the remnant have fled by divers ways westaway, that they +may gain the wood and the ways to Rose-dale; and the stoutest of +the thralls are at their heels, and ever as they go fresh men +from the fields join in the chase with great joy. I have +gathered together of the best of them two hundreds and a half +well-armed; and if thou wilt give me leave, I will get to me yet +more, and follow hard on the fleers, and so get me home to +Rose-dale; for thither will these runaways to meet whatso of +their kind may be left there. Also I would fain be there to +set some order amongst the poor folk of mine own people, whom +this day’s work hath delivered <a name="page373"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 373</span>from torment. And if thou wilt +suffer a few men of the Dalesmen to come along with me, then +shall all things be better done there.’</p> +<p>‘Luck go with thine hands!’ said +Face-of-god. ‘Take whomso thou wilt of the Burgdalers +that have a mind to fare with thee to the number of five score; +and send word of thy thriving to Folk-might, the chieftain of the +Dale; as for us, meseemeth that we shall abide here no long +while. How sayest thou, Folk-might, shall Dallach +go?’</p> +<p>Then Folk-might, who stood close beside him, looked up and +reddened somewhat, as a man caught heedless when he should be +heedful; but he looked kindly on Face-of-god, and said:</p> +<p>‘War-leader, so long as thou art in the Dale which ye +kindreds have won back for us, thou art the chieftain, and no +other, and I bid thee do as thou wilt in this matter, and in all +things; and I hereby give command to all my kindred to do +according to thy will everywhere and always, as they love me; and +indeed I deem that thy will shall be theirs; since it is only +fools who know not their well-wishers. How say ye, +kinsmen?’</p> +<p>Then those about cried out: ‘Hail to Face-of-god! +Hail to the Dalesmen! Hail to our friends!’</p> +<p>But Folk-might went up to Face-of-god, and threw his arms +about him and kissed him, and he said therewithal, so that most +men heard him:</p> +<p>‘Herewith I kiss not only thee, thou goodly and glorious +warrior! but this kiss and embrace is for all the men of the +kindreds of the Dale and the Shepherds; since I deem that never +have men more valiant dwelt upon the earth.’</p> +<p>Therewith all men shouted for joy of him, and were exceeding +glad; but Folk-might spake apart to Face-of-god and said:</p> +<p>‘Brother, I suppose that thou wilt deem it good to abide +in this Hall or anigh it; for hereabouts now is the heart of the +Host. But as for me, I would have leave to depart for a +little; since I have an errand, whereof thou mayest +wot.’</p> +<p><a name="page374"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 374</span>Then +Face-of-god smiled on him, and said: ‘Go, and all good go +with thee; and tell my father that I would have tidings, since I +may not be there.’ So he spake; yet in his heart was +he glad that he might not go to behold the Bride lying sick and +sorry. But Folk-might departed without more words; and in +the door of the Hall he met Crow the Shaft-speeder, who would +have spoken to him, and given him the tidings; but Folk-might +said to him: ‘Do thine errand to the War-leader, who is +within the Hall.’ And so went on his way.</p> +<p>Then came Crow up the Hall, and stood before Face-of-god and +said: ‘War-leader, we have done that which was to be done, +and have cleared all the houses about the Market-stead. +Moreover, by the rede of Dallach we have set certain men of the +poor folk of the Dale, who are well looked to by the others, to +the burying of the slain felons; and they be digging trenches in +the fields on the north side of the Market-stead, and carry the +carcasses thither as they may. But the slain whom they find +of the kindreds do they array out yonder before this Hall. +In all wise are these men tame and biddable, save that they rage +against the Dusky Men, though they fear them yet. As for +us, they deem us Gods come down from heaven to help them. +So much for what is good: now have I an ill word to say; to wit, +that in the houses whereas we have found many thralls alive, yet +also have we found many dead; for amongst these murder-carles +were some of an evil sort, who, when they saw that the battle +would go against them, rushed into the houses hewing down all +before them—man, woman, and child; so that many of the +halls and chambers we saw running blood like to shambles. +To be short: of them whom they were going to hew to the Gods, we +have found thirteen living and three dead, of which latter is one +woman; and of the living, seven women; and all these, living and +dead, with the leaden shackles yet on them wherein they should be +burned. To all these and others whom we have found, we have +done what of service we could in the way of <a +name="page375"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 375</span>victual and +clothes, so that they scarce believe that they are on this lower +earth. Moreover, I have with me two score of them, who are +men of some wits, and who know of the stores of victual and other +wares which the felons had, and these will fetch and carry for +you as much as ye will. Is all done rightly, +War-leader?’</p> +<p>‘Right well,’ said Face-of-god, ‘and we give +thee our thanks therefor. And now it were well if these thy +folk were to dight our dinner for us in some green field the +nighest that may be, and thither shall all the Host be bidden by +sound of horn. Meantime, let us void this Hall till it be +cleansed of the filth of the Dusky Ones; but hereafter shall we +come again to it, and light a fire on the Holy Hearth, and bid +the Gods and the Fathers come back and behold their children +sitting glad in the ancient Hall.’</p> +<p>Then men shouted and were exceeding joyous; but Face-of-god +said once more: ‘Bear ye a bench out into the Market-place +over against the door of this Hall: thereon will I sit with other +chieftains of the kindreds, that whoso will may have recourse to +us.’</p> +<p>So therewith all the men of the kindreds made their ways out +of the Hall and into the Market-stead, which was by this time +much cleared of the slaughtered felons; and the bale for the +burnt-offering was now but smouldering, and a thin column of blue +smoke was going up wavering amidst the light airs of the +afternoon. Men were somewhat silent now; for they were +stiff and weary with the morning’s battle; and a many had +been hurt withal; and on many there yet rested the after-grief of +battle, and sorrow for the loss of friends and well-wishers.</p> +<p>For in the battle had fallen one long hundred and two of the +men of the Host; and of these were two score and five of the +kindreds of the Steer, the Bull, and the Bridge, who had made +such valiant onslaught by the southern road. Of the +Shepherds died one score save three; for though they scattered +the foe at once, yet they fell on with such headlong valour, +rather than wisely, that many were trapped in the throng of the +Dusky Men. <a name="page376"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +376</span>Of the Woodlanders were slain one score and nine; for +hard had been the fight about them, and no man of them spared +himself one whit. Of the men of the Wolf, who were but a +few, fell sixteen men, and all save two of these in +Face-of-god’s battle. Of the Burgdale men whom +Folk-might led, to wit, them of the Face, the Vine, and the +Sickle, were but seven men slain outright. In this tale are +told all those who died of their hurts after the day of +battle. Therewithal many others were sorely hurt who +mended, and went about afterwards hale and hearty.</p> +<p>So as the folk abode in the Market-place, somewhat faint and +weary, they heard horns blow up merrily, and Crow the +Shaft-speeder came forth and stood on the mound of the altar, and +bade men fare to dinner, and therewith he led the way, bearing in +his hand the banner of the Golden Bushel, of which House he was; +and they followed him into a fair and great mead on the southwest +of Silver-stead, besprinkled about with ancient trees of sweet +chestnut. There they found the boards spread for them with +the best of victual which the poor down-trodden folk knew how to +dight for them; and especially was there great plenty of good +wine of the sun-smitten bents.</p> +<p>So they fell to their meat, and the poor folk, both men and +women, served them gladly, though they were somewhat afeard of +these fierce sword-wielders, the Gods who had delivered +them. The said thralls were mostly not of those who had +fallen so bitterly on their fleeing masters, but were men and +women of the households, not so roughly treated as the others, +that is to say, those who had been wont to toil under the lash in +the fields and the silver-mines, and were as wild as they durst +be.</p> +<p>As for these waiting-thralls, the men of the kindreds were +gentle and blithe with them, and often as they served them would +they stay their hands (and especially if they were women), and +would draw down their heads to put a morsel in their mouths, or +set the wine-cup to their lips; and they would stroke them and +caress them, and treat them in all wise as their dear +friends. Moreover, <a name="page377"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 377</span>when any man was full, he would +arise and take hold of one of the thralls, and set him in his +place, and serve him with meat and drink, and talk with him +kindly, so that the poor folk were much bewildered with +joy. And the first that arose from table were the Sun-beam +and Bow-may and Hall-face, with many of the swains and the women +of the Woodlanders; and they went from table to table serving the +others.</p> +<p>The Sun-beam had done off her armour, and went about exceeding +fair and lovely in her kirtle; but Bow-may yet bore her hauberk, +for she loved it, and indeed it was so fine and well-wrought that +it was no great burden. Albeit she had gone down with the +Sun-beam and other women to a fair stream thereby, and there had +they bathed and washed themselves; and Bow-may’s hurts, +which were not great, had been looked to and bound up afresh, and +she had come to table unhelmed, with a wreath of wind-flowers +round her head.</p> +<p>There then they feasted; and their hearts were strengthened by +the meat and drink; and if sorrow were blended with their joy, +yet were they high-hearted through both joy and sorrow, looking +forward to the good days to be in the Dales at the Roots of the +Mountains, and the love and fellowship of Folks and of +Houses.</p> +<p>But as for Face-of-god, he went not to the meadow, but abode +sitting on the bench in the Market-place, where were none else +now of the kindreds save the appointed warders. They had +brought him a morsel and a cup of wine, and he had eaten and +drunk; and now he sat there with Dale-warden lying sheathed +across his knees, and seeming to gaze on the thralls of +Silver-dale busied in carrying away the bodies of the slain +felons, after they had stripped them of their raiment and +weapons. Yet indeed all this was before his eyes as a +picture which he noted not. Rather he sat pondering many +things; wondering at his being there in Silver-dale in the hour +of victory; longing for the peace of Burgdale and the +bride-chamber of the Sun-beam. Then went his thought out +toward his old playmate lying hurt in Silver-dale; <a +name="page378"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 378</span>and his +heart was grieved because of her, yet not for long, though his +thought still dwelt on her; since he deemed that she would live +and presently be happy—and happy thenceforward for many +years. So pondered Face-of-god in the Market-place of +Silver-dale.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER L. FOLK-MIGHT SEETH THE BRIDE AND SPEAKETH WITH +HER.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> tells the tale of Folk-might, +that he went his ways from the Hall to the house where the Bride +lay; and the swain who had brought the message went along with +him, and he was proud of walking beside so mighty a warrior, and +he talked to Folk-might as they went; and the sound of his voice +was irksome to the chieftain, but he made as though he +hearkened. Yet when they came to the door of the house, +which was just out of the Place on the Southern road (for thereby +had the Bride fallen to earth), he could withhold his grief no +longer, but turned on the threshold and laid his head on the +door-jamb, and sobbed and wept till the tears fell down like +rain. And the boy stood by wondering, and wishing that +Folk-might would forbear weeping, but durst not speak to him.</p> +<p>In a while Folk-might left weeping and went in, and found a +fair hall sore befouled by the felons, and in the corner on a bed +covered with furs the wounded woman; and at first sight he deemed +her not so pale as he looked to see her, as she lay with her long +dark-red hair strewed over the pillow, her head moving about +wearily. A linen cloth was thrown over her body, but her +arms lay out of it before her. Beside her sat the Alderman, +his face sober enough, but not as one in heavy sorrow; and anigh +him was another chair as if someone had but just got up from +it. There was no one else in the hall save two women of the +Woodlanders, one of whom was cooking some potion on the hearth, +and <a name="page379"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +379</span>another was sweeping the floor anigh of bran or some +such stuff, which had been thrown down to sop up the blood.</p> +<p>So Folk-might went up to the Bride, sorely dreading the image +of death which she had grown to be, and sorely loving the woman +she was and would be.</p> +<p>He knelt down by the bedside, heeding Iron-face little, though +he nodded friendly to him, and he held his face close to hers; +but she had her eyes shut and did not open them till he had been +there a little while; and then they opened and fixed themselves +on his without surprise or change. Then she lifted her +right hand (for it was in her left shoulder and side that she had +been hurt) and slowly laid it on his head, and drew his face to +hers and kissed it fondly, as she both smiled and let the tears +run over from her eyes. Then she spake in a weak voice:</p> +<p>‘Thou seest, chieftain and dear friend, that I may not +stand by thy victorious side to-day. And now, though I were +fain if thou wouldst never leave me, yet needs must thou go about +thy work, since thou art become the Alderman of the Folk of +Silver-dale. Yea, and even if thou wert not to go from me, +yet in a manner should I go from thee. For I am grievously +hurt, and I know by myself, and also the leeches have told me, +that the fever is a-coming on me; so that presently I shall not +know thee, but may deem thee to be a woman, or a hound, or the +very Wolf that is the image of the Father of thy kindred; or +even, it may be, someone else—that I have played with time +agone.’</p> +<p>Her voice faltered and faded out here, and she was silent a +while; then she said:</p> +<p>‘So depart, kind friend and dear love, bearing this word +with thee, that should I die, I call on Iron-face my kinsman to +bear witness that I bid thee carry me to bale in Silver-dale, and +lay mine ashes with the ashes of thy Fathers, with whom thine own +shall mingle at the last, since I have been of the warriors who +have helped to bring thee aback to the land of thy +folk.’</p> +<p>Then she smiled and shut her eyes and said: ‘And if I +live, <a name="page380"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 380</span>as +indeed I hope, and how glad and glad I shall be to live, then +shalt thou bring me to thy house and thy bed, that I may not +depart from thee while both our lives last.’</p> +<p>And she opened her eyes and looked at him; and he might not +speak for a while, so ravished as he was betwixt joy and +sorrow. But the Alderman arose and took a gold ring from +off his arm, and spake:</p> +<p>‘This is the gold ring of the God of the Face, and I +bear it on mine arm betwixt the Folk and the God in all +man-motes, and I bore it through the battle to-day; and it is as +holy a ring as may be; and since ye are plighting troth, and I am +the witness thereof, it were good that ye held this ring together +and called the God to witness, who is akin to the God of the +Earth, as we all be. Take the ring, Folk-might, for I trust +thee; and of all women now alive would I have this woman +happy.’</p> +<p>So Folk-might took the ring and thrust his hand through it, +and took her hand, and said:</p> +<p>‘Ye Fathers, thou God of the Face, thou Earth-god, thou +Warrior, bear witness that my life and my body are plighted to +this woman, the Bride of the House of the Steer!’</p> +<p>His face was flushed and bright as he spoke, but as his words +ceased he noted how feebly her hand lay in his, and his face +fell, and he gazed on her timidly. But she lay quiet, and +said softly and slowly:</p> +<p>‘O Fathers of my kindred! O Warrior and God of the +Earth! bear witness that I plight my troth to this man, to lie in +his grave if I die, and in his bed if I live.’</p> +<p>And she smiled on him again, and then closed her eyes; but +opened them presently once more, and said:</p> +<p>‘Dear friend, how fared it with Gold-mane +to-day?’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘So well he did, that none might have +done better. He fared in the fight as if he had been our +Father the Warrior: he is a great chieftain.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Wilt thou give him this message from me, that +in <a name="page381"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 381</span>no +wise he forget the oath which he swore upon the finger-ring as it +lay on the sundial of the Garden of the Face? And say, +moreover, that I am sorry that we shall part, and have between us +such breadth of wild-wood and mountain-neck.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, surely will I give thy message,’ said +Folk-might; and in his heart he rejoiced, because he heard her +speak as if she were sure of life. Then she said +faintly:</p> +<p>‘It is now thy work to depart from me, and to do as it +behoveth a chieftain of the people and the Alderman of +Silver-dale. Depart, lest the leeches chide me: farewell, +my dear!’</p> +<p>So he laid his face to hers and kissed her, and rose up and +embraced Iron-face, and went his ways without looking back.</p> +<p>But just over the threshold he met old Hall-ward of the House +of the Steer, who was at point to enter, and he greeted him +kindly. The old man looked on him steadily, and said: +‘To-morrow or the day after I will utter a word to thee, O +Chief of the Wolf.’</p> +<p>‘In a good hour,’ said Folk-might, ‘for all +thy words are true.’ Therewith he gat him away from +the house, and came to Face-of-god, where he sat before the altar +of the Crooked Sword; and now were the chiefs come back from +their meat, and were sitting with him; there also were +Wood-father and Wood-wont; but Bow-may was with the Sun-beam, who +was resting softly in the fair meadow after all the turmoil.</p> +<p>So men made place for Folk-might beside the War-leader, who +looked upon his face, and saw that it was sober and unsmiling, +but not heavy or moody with grief. So he deemed that all +was as well as it might be with the Bride, and with a good heart +fell to taking counsel with the others; and kindly and friendly +were the redes which they held there, with no gainsaying of man +by man, for the whole folk was glad at heart.</p> +<p>So there they ordered all matters duly for that present time, +and by then they had made an end, it was past sunset, and men +were lodged in the chief houses about the Market-stead.</p> +<p>Albeit, though they ate their meat with all joy of heart, and +<a name="page382"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 382</span>were +merry in converse one with the other, the men of the Wolf would +by no means feast in their Hall again till it had been cleansed +and hallowed anew.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER LI. THE DEAD BORNE TO BALE: THE MOTE-HOUSE +RE-HALLOWED.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">On</span> the morrow they bore to bale +their slain men, and there withal what was left of the bodies of +the four chieftains of the Great Undoing. They brought them +into a most fair meadow to the west of Silver-stead, where they +had piled up a very great bale for the burning. In that +meadow was the Doom-ring and Thing-stead of the Folk of the Wolf, +and they had hallowed it when they had first conquered +Silver-dale, and it was deemed far holier than the Mote-house +aforesaid, wherein the men of the kindred might hold no due +court; but rather it was a Feast-hall, and a house where men had +converse together, and wherein precious things and tokens of the +Fathers were stored up.</p> +<p>The Thing-stead in the meadow was flowery and well-grassed, +and a little stream winding about thereby nearly cast a ring +around it; and beyond the stream was a full fair grove of +oak-trees, very tall and ancient. There then they burned +the dead of the Host, wrapped about in exceeding fair +raiment. And when the ashes were gathered, the men of +Burgdale and the Shepherds left those of their folk for the +kindred to bury there in Silver-dale; for they said that they had +a right to claim such guesting for them that had helped to win +back the Dale.</p> +<p>But when the Burning was done and the bale quenched, and the +ashes gathered and buried (and that was on the morrow), then men +bore forth the Banners of the Jaws of the Wolf, and the Red Hand, +and the Silver Arm, and the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged Sword, +and the Wolf of the Woodland; and with great joy and <a +name="page383"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 383</span>triumph +they brought them into the Mote-house and hung them up over the +daïs; and they kindled fire on the Holy Hearth by holding up +a disk of bright glass to the sun; and then they sang before the +banners. And this is somewhat of the song that they sang +before them:</p> +<p class="poetry">Why are ye wending? O whence and +whither?<br /> + What shineth over the fallow swords?<br /> +What is the joy that ye bear in hither?<br /> + What is the tale of your blended words?</p> +<p class="poetry">No whither we wend, but here have we stayed +us,<br /> + Here by the ancient Holy Hearth;<br /> +Long have the moons and the years delayed us,<br /> + But here are we come from the heart of the +dearth.</p> +<p class="poetry">We are the men of joy belated;<br /> + We are the wanderers over the waste;<br /> +We are but they that sat and waited,<br /> + Watching the empty winds make haste.</p> +<p class="poetry">Long, long we sat and knew no others,<br /> + Save alien folk and the foes of the road;<br /> +Till late and at last we met our brothers,<br /> + And needs must we to the old abode.</p> +<p class="poetry">For once on a day they prayed for guesting;<br +/> + And how were we then their bede to do?<br /> +Wild was the waste for the people’s resting,<br /> + And deep the wealth of the Dale we knew.</p> +<p class="poetry">Here were the boards that we must spread +them<br /> + Down in the fruitful Dale and dear;<br /> +Here were the halls where we would bed them:<br /> + And how should we tarry otherwhere?</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page384"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +384</span>Over the waste we came together:<br /> + There was the tangle athwart the way;<br /> +There was the wind-storm and the weather;<br /> + The red rain darkened down the day.</p> +<p class="poetry">But that day of the days what grief should let +us,<br /> + When we saw through the clouds the dale-glad sun?<br +/> +We tore at the tangle that beset us,<br /> + And stood at peace when the day was done.</p> +<p class="poetry">Hall of the Happy, take our greeting!<br /> + Bid thou the Fathers come and see<br /> +The Folk-signs on thy walls a-meeting,<br /> + And deem to-day what men we be.</p> +<p class="poetry">Look on the Holy Hearth new-litten,<br /> + How the sparks fly twinkling up aloof!<br /> +How the wavering smoke by the sunlight smitten,<br /> + Curls up around the beam-rich roof!</p> +<p class="poetry">For here once more is the Wolf abiding,<br /> + Nor ever more from the Dale shall wend,<br /> +And never again his head be hiding,<br /> + Till all days be dark and the world have end.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER LII. OF THE NEW BEGINNING OF GOOD DAYS IN +SILVER-DALE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">On</span> the third day there was +high-tide and great joy amongst all men from end to end of the +Dale; and the delivered thralls were feasted and made much of by +the kindreds, so that they scarce knew how to believe their own +five senses that told them the good tidings.</p> +<p>For none strove to grieve them and torment them; what they <a +name="page385"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 385</span>would, that +did they, and they had all things plenteously; since for all was +there enough and to spare of goods stored up for the Dusky Men, +as corn and wine and oil and spices, and raiment and +silver. Horses were there also, and neat and sheep and +swine in abundance. Withal there was the good and dear +land; the waxing corn on the acres; the blossoming vines on the +hillside; and about the orchards and alongside the ways, the +plum-trees and cherry-trees and pear-trees that had cast their +blossom and were overhung with little young fruit; and the fair +apple-trees a-blossoming, and the chestnuts spreading their +boughs from their twisted trunks over the green grass. And +there was the goodly pasture for the horses and the neat, and the +thymy hill-grass for the sheep; and beyond it all, the thicket of +the great wood, with its unfailing store of goodly timber of ash +and oak and holly and yoke-elm. There need no man lack +unless man compelled him, and all was rich enough and wide enough +for the waxing of a very great folk.</p> +<p>Now, therefore, men betook them to what was their own before +the coming of the Dusky Men; and though at first many of the +delivered thrall-folk feasted somewhat above measure, and though +there were some of them who were not very brisk at working on the +earth for their livelihood; yet were the most part of them quick +of wit and deft of hand, and they mostly fell to presently at +their cunning, both of husbandry and handicraft. Moreover, +they had great love of the kindreds, and especially of the +Woodlanders, and strove to do all things that might pleasure +them. And as for those who were dull and listless because +of their many torments of the last ten years, they would at least +fetch and carry willingly for them of the kindreds; and these +last grudged them not meat and raiment and house-room, even if +they wrought but little for it, because they called to mind the +evil days of their thralldom, and bethought them how few are +men’s days upon the earth.</p> +<p>Thus all things throve in Silver-dale, and the days wore on <a +name="page386"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 386</span>toward the +summer, and the Yule-tide rest beyond it, and the years beyond +and far beyond the winning of Silver-dale.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER LIII. OF THE WORD WHICH HALL-WARD OF THE STEER +HAD FOR FOLK-MIGHT.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">But</span> of the time then passing, it is +to be said that the whole host abode in Silver-dale in great +mirth and good liking, till they should hear tidings of Dallach +and his company, who had followed hot-foot on the fleers of the +Dusky Men. And on the tenth day after the battle, Iron-face +and his two sons and Stone-face were sitting about sunset under a +great oak-tree by that stream-side which ran through the +Mote-stead; there also was Folk-might, somewhat distraught +because of his love for the Bride, who was now mending of her +hurts. As they sat there in all content they saw folk +coming toward them, three in number, and as they drew nigher they +saw that it was old Hall-ward of the Steer, and the Sun-beam and +Bow-may following him hand in hand.</p> +<p>When they came to the brook Bow-may ran up to the elder to +help him over the stepping-stones; which she did as one who loved +him, as the old man was stark enough to have waded the water +waist-deep. She was no longer in her war-gear, but was clad +after her wont of Shadowy Vale, in nought but a white woollen +kirtle. So she stood in the stream beside the stones, and +let the swift water ripple up over her ankles, while the elder +leaned on her shoulder and looked down upon her kindly. The +Sun-beam followed after them, stepping daintily from stone to +stone, so that she was a fair sight to see; her face was smiling +and happy, and as she stepped forth on to the green grass the +colour flushed up in it, but she cast her eyes adown as one +somewhat shamefaced.</p> +<p>So the chieftains rose up before the leader of the Steer, and +<a name="page387"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +387</span>Folk-might went up to him, and greeted him, and took +his hand and kissed him on the cheek. And Hall-ward +said:</p> +<p>‘Hail to the chiefs of the kindred, and my earthly +friends!’</p> +<p>Then Folk-might bade him sit down by him, and all the men sat +down again; but the Sun-beam leaned her back against a sapling +ash hard by, her feet set close together; and Bow-may went to and +fro in short turns, keeping well within ear-shot.</p> +<p>Then said Hall-ward: ‘Folk-might, I have prayed thy +kinswoman Bow-may to lead me to thee, that I might speak with +thee; and it is good that I find my kinsmen of the Face in thy +company; for I would say a word to thee that concerns them +somewhat.’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘Guest, and warrior of the Steer, thy +words are ever good; and if this time thou comest to ask aught of +me, then shall they be better than good.’</p> +<p>Said Hall-ward: ‘Tell me, Folk-might, hast thou seen my +daughter the Bride to-day?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Folk-might, reddening.</p> +<p>‘What didst thou deem of her state?’ said +Hall-ward.</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘Thou knowest thyself that the fever +hath left her, and that she is mending.’</p> +<p>Hall-ward said: ‘In a few days belike we shall be +wending home to Burgdale: when deemest thou that the Bride may +travel, if it were but on a litter?’</p> +<p>Folk-might was silent, and Hall-ward smiled on him and +said:</p> +<p>‘Wouldst thou have her tarry, O chief of the +Wolf?’</p> +<p>‘So it is,’ said Folk-might, ‘that it might +be labour lost for her to journey to Burgdale at +present.’</p> +<p>‘Thinkest thou?’ said Hall-ward; ‘hast thou +a mind then that if she goeth she shall speedily come back +hither?’</p> +<p>‘It has been in my mind,’ said Folk-might, +‘that I should wed her. Wilt thou gainsay it? I +pray thee, Iron-face my friend, and ye Stone-face and Hall-face, +and thou, Face-of-god, my brother, to lay thy words to mine in +this matter.’</p> +<p><a name="page388"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 388</span>Then +said Hall-ward stroking his beard: ‘There will be a seat +missing in the Hall of the Steer, and a sore lack in the heart of +many a man in Burgdale if the Bride come back to us no +more. We looked not to lose the maiden by her wedding; for +it is no long way betwixt the House of the Steer and the House of +the Face. But now, when I arise in the morning and miss +her, I shall take my staff and walk down the street of Burgstead; +for I shall say, The Maiden hath gone to see Iron-face my friend; +she is well in the House of the Face. And then shall I +remember how that the wood and the wastes lie between us. +How sayest thou, Alderman?’</p> +<p>‘A sore lack it will be,’ said Iron-face; +‘but all good go with her! Though whiles shall I go +hatless down Burgstead street, and say, Now will I go fetch my +daughter the Bride from the House of the Steer; while many a +day’s journey shall lie betwixt us.’</p> +<p>Said Hall-ward: ‘I will not beat about the bush, +Folk-might; what gift wilt thou give us for the +maiden?’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘Whatever is mine shall be thine; and +whatsoever of the Dale the kindred and the poor folk begrudge +thee not, that shalt thou have; and deemest thou that they will +begrudge thee aught? Is it enough?’</p> +<p>Hall-ward said: ‘I wot not, chieftain; see thou to +it! Bow-may, my friend, bring hither that which I would +have from Silver-dale for the House of the Steer in payment for +our maiden.’</p> +<p>Then Bow-may came forward speedily, and went up to the +Sun-beam, and led her by the hand in front of Folk-might and +Hall-ward and the other chieftains. Then Folk-might +started, and leapt up from the ground; for, sooth to say, he had +been thinking so wholly of the Bride, that his sister was not in +his mind, and he had had no deeming of whither Hall-ward was +coming, though the others guessed well enough, and now smiled on +him merrily, when they saw how wild Folk-might stared. <a +name="page389"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 389</span>As for the +Sun-beam, she stood there blushing like a rose in June, but +looking her brother straight in the face, as Hall-ward said:</p> +<p>‘Folk-might, chief of the Wolf, since thou wouldst take +our maiden the Bride away from us, I ask thee to make good her +place with this maiden; so that the House of the Steer may not +lack, when they who are wont to wed therein come to us and pray +us for a bedfellow for the best of their kindred.’</p> +<p>Then became Folk-might smiling and merry like unto the others, +and he said: ‘Chief of the Steer, this gift is thine, +together with aught else which thou mayst desire of +us.’</p> +<p>Then he kissed the Sun-beam, and said: ‘Sister, we +looked for this to befall in some fashion. Yet we deemed +that he that should lead thee away might abide with us for a moon +or two. But now let all this be, since if thou art not to +bear children to the kindreds of Silver-dale, yet shalt thou bear +them to their friends and fellows. And now choose what gift +thou wilt have of us to keep us in thy memory.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘The memory of my people shall not fade from +me; yet indeed I ask thee for a gift, to wit, Bow-may, and the +two sons of Wood-father that are left since Wood-wicked was +slain; and belike the elder and his wife will be fain to go with +their sons, and ye will not hinder them.’</p> +<p>‘Even so shall it be done,’ said Folk-might, and +he was silent a while, pondering; and then he said:</p> +<p>‘Lo you, friends! doth it not seem strange to you that +peace sundereth as well as war? Indeed I deem it grievous +that ye shall have to miss your well-beloved kinswoman. And +for me, I am now grown so used to this woman my sister, though at +whiles she hath been masterful with me, that I shall often turn +about and think to speak to her, when there lie long days of wood +and waste betwixt her voice and mine.</p> +<p>The Sun-beam laughed in his face, though the tears stood in +her eyes, as she said: ‘Keep up thine heart, brother; for +at least <a name="page390"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +390</span>the way is shorter betwixt Burgdale and Silver-dale +than betwixt life and death; and the road we shall learn +belike.’</p> +<p>Said Hall-face: ‘So it is that my brother is no ill +woodman, as ye learned last autumn.’</p> +<p>Iron-face smiled, but somewhat sadly; for he beheld +Face-of-god, who had no eyes for anyone save the Sun-beam; and no +marvel was that, for never had she looked fairer. And +forsooth the War-leader was not utterly well-pleased; for he was +deeming that there would be delaying of his wedding, now that the +Sun-beam was to become a maid of the Steer; and in his mind he +half deemed that it would be better if he were to take her by the +hand and lead her home through the wild-wood, he and she alone; +and she looked on him shyly, as though she had a deeming of his +thought. Albeit he knew it might not be, that he, the +chosen War-leader, should trouble the peace of the kindred; for +he wotted that all this was done for peace’ sake.</p> +<p>So Hall-ward stood forth and took the Sun-beam’s right +hand in his, and said:</p> +<p>‘Now do I take this maiden, Sun-beam of the kindred of +the Wolf, and lead her into the House of the Steer, to be in all +ways one of the maidens of our House, and to wed in the blood +wherein we have been wont to wed. Neither from henceforth +let anyone say that this woman is not of the blood of the Steer; +for we have given her our blood, and she is of us duly and +truly.’</p> +<p>Thereafter they talked together merrily for a little, and then +turned toward the houses, for the sun was now down; and as they +went Iron-face spake to his son, and said:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane, wilt thou verily keep thine oath to wed the +fairest woman in the world? By how much is this one fairer +than my dear daughter who shall no more dwell in mine +house?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Yea, father, I shall keep mine oath; +for the Gods, who know much, know that when I swore last Yule I +was thinking of the fair woman going yonder beside Hall-ward, and +of none other.’</p> +<p><a name="page391"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +391</span>‘Ah, son!’ said Iron-face, ‘why didst +thou beguile us? Hadst thou but told us the truth +then!’</p> +<p>‘Yea, Alderman,’ said Face-of-god smiling, +‘and how thou wouldest have raged against me then, when +thou hast scarce forgiven me now! In sooth, father, I +feared to tell you all: I was young; I was one against the +world. Yea, yea; and even that was sweet to me, so sorely +as I loved her—Hast thou forgotten, father?’</p> +<p>Iron-face smiled, and answered not; and so came they to the +house wherein they were guested.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER LIV. TIDINGS OF DALLACH: A FOLK-MOTE IN +SILVER-DALE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Three</span> days thereafter came two +swift runners from Rose-dale with tidings of Dallach. In +all wise had he thriven, and had slain many of the runaways, and +had come happily to Rose-dale: therein by the mere shaking of +their swords had they all their will; for there were but a few of +the Dusky Warriors in the Dale, since the more part had fared to +the slaughter in Silver-stead. Now therefore had Dallach +been made Alderman of Rose-dale; and the Burgdalers who had gone +with him should abide the coming thither of the rest of the +Burgdale Host, and meantime of their coming should uphold the new +Alderman in Rose-dale. Howbeit Dallach sent word that it +was not to be doubted but that many of the Dusky Men had escaped +to the woods, and should yet be the death of many a +mother’s son, unless it were well looked to.</p> +<p>And now the more part of the Burgdale men and the Shepherds +began to look toward home, albeit some amongst them had not been +ill-pleased to abide there yet a while; for life was exceeding +soft to them there, though they helped the poor folk gladly in +their husbandry. For especially the women of the Dale, <a +name="page392"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 392</span>of whom +many were very goodly, hankered after the fair-faced tall +Burgdalers, and were as kind to them as might be. Forsooth +not a few, both carles and queens, of the old thrall-folk prayed +them of Burgdale to take them home thither, that they might see +new things and forget their old torments once for all, yea, even +in dreams. The Burgdalers would not gainsay them, and there +was no one else to hinder; so that there went with the Burgdale +men at their departure hard on five score of the Silver-dale folk +who were not of the kindreds.</p> +<p>And now was a great Folk-mote holden in Silver-dale, whereto +the Burgdale men and the Shepherds were bidden; and thereat the +War-leader gave out the morrow of the morrow for the day of the +departure of the Host. There also were the matters of +Silver-dale duly ordered: the Men of the Wolf would have had the +Woodlanders dwell with them in the fair-builded stead, and take +to them of the goodly stone houses there what they would; but +this they naysaid, choosing rather to dwell in scattered houses, +which they built for themselves at the utmost limit of the +tillage.</p> +<p>Indeed, the most abode not even there a long while; for they +loved the wood and its deeds. So they went forth into the +wood, and cleared them space to dwell in, and builded them halls +such as they loved, and fell to their old woodland crafts of +charcoal-burning and hunting, wherein they throve well. And +good for Silver-dale was their abiding there, since they became a +sure defence and stout outpost against all foemen. For the +rest, wheresoever they dwelt, they were guest-cherishing and +blithe, and were well beloved by all people; and they wedded with +the other Houses of the Children of the Wolf.</p> +<p>As to the other matters whereof they took rede at this +Folk-mote, they had mostly to do with the warding of the Dale, +and the learning of the delivered thralls to handle weapons +duly. For men deemed it most like that they would have to +meet other men of the kindred of the Felons; which indeed fell +out as the years wore.</p> +<p><a name="page393"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +393</span>Moreover, Folk-might (by the rede of Stone-face) sent +messengers to the Plain and the Cities, unto men whom he knew +there, doing them to wit of the tidings of Silver-dale, and how +that a peaceful and guest-loving people, having good store of +wares, now dwelt therein, so that chapmen might have recourse +thither.</p> +<p>Lastly spake Folk-might and said:</p> +<p>‘Guests and brothers-in-arms, we have been looking about +our new house, which was our old one, and therein we find great +store of wares which we need not, and which we can but use if ye +use them. Of your kindness therefore we pray you to take of +those things what ye can easily carry. And if ye say the +way is long, as indeed it is, since ye are bent on going through +the wood to Rose-dale, and so on to Burgdale, yet shall we +furnish you with beasts to bear your goods, and with such wains +as may pass through the woodland ways.’</p> +<p>Then rose up Fox of Upton and said: ‘O Folk-might, and +ye men of the Wolf, be it known unto you, that if we have done +anything for your help in the winning of Silver-dale, we have +thus done that we might help ourselves also, so that we might +live in peace henceforward, and that we might have your +friendship and fellowship therewithal, so that here in +Silver-dale might wax a mighty folk who joined unto us should be +strong enough to face the whole world. Such are the redes +of wise men when they go a-warring. But we have no will to +go back home again made rich with your wealth; this hath been far +from our thought in this matter.’</p> +<p>And there went up a murmur from all the Burgdalers yeasaying +his word.</p> +<p>But Folk-might took up the word again and spake:</p> +<p>‘Men of Burgdale and the Sheepcotes, what ye say is both +manly and friendly; yet, since we look to see a road made plain +through the woodland betwixt Burgdale and Silver-dale, and that +often ye shall face us in the feast-hall, and whiles stand beside +us in the fray, we must needs pray you not to shame us <a +name="page394"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 394</span>by +departing empty-handed; for how then may we look upon your faces +again? Stone-face, my friend, thou art old and wise; +therefore I bid thee to help us herein, and speak for us to thy +kindred, that they naysay us not in this matter.’</p> +<p>Then stood up Stone-face and said: ‘Forsooth, friends, +Folk-might is in the right herein; for he may look for anger from +the wights that come and go betwixt his kindred and the Gods, if +they see us faring back giftless through the woods. +Moreover, now that ye have seen Silver-dale, ye may wot how rich +a land it is of all good things, and able to bring forth enough +and to spare. And now meseemeth the Gods love this Folk +that shall dwell here; and they shall become a mighty Folk, and a +part of our very selves. Therefore let us take the gifts of +our friends, and thank them blithely. For surely, as saith +Folk-might, henceforth the wood shall become a road betwixt us, +and the thicket a halting-place for friends bearing goodwill in +their hands.’</p> +<p>When he had spoken, men yeasaid his words and forbore the +gifts no longer; and the Folk-mote sundered in all +loving-kindness.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER LV. DEPARTURE FROM SILVER-DALE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">On</span> morrow of the morrow were the +Burgdale men and they of the Shepherds gathered together in the +Market-stead early in the morning, and they were all ready for +departure; and the men of the Wolf and the Woodlanders, and of +the delivered thralls a great many, stood round about them +grieving that they must go. There was much talk between the +folk of the Dale and the Guests, and many promises were given and +taken to come and go betwixt the two Dales. There also were +the men of the thrall-folk who were to wend home with the +Burgdalers; and they had been stuffed with good things by the men +of the kindreds, and were as fain as might be.</p> +<p><a name="page395"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 395</span>As +for the Sun-beam, she was somewhat out of herself at first, being +eager and restless beyond her wont, and yet at whiles +weeping-ripe when she called to mind that she was now leaving all +those things, the gain whereof had been a dream to her both +waking and sleeping for these years past. But at last, as +she stood in the door of the Mote-house, and beheld all the +throng of folk happy and friendly, it came over her that she +herself had done her full share to bring all this about, and that +all those pleasant places of Silver-dale now full of the goodly +life of man would be there even as she had striven for them, and +that they would be a part of her left behind, though she were +dwelling otherwhere.</p> +<p>Therewithal she said to herself that it was now her part to +wield the life of men in Burgdale, and begin once more her days +of a chieftain and a swayer of the Folk, and the life of a +stirring woman, which the edge of the sword and the need of the +hard hand-play had taken out of her hands for a while, making her +as a child in the hands of the strong wielders of the blades.</p> +<p>So now she became calm once more, and her face was clad again +with the full measure of that majesty of beauty which had once +overawed Face-of-god amidst his love of her; and folk beheld her +and marvelled at her fairness, and said: ‘She hath an +inward sorrow at leaving the fair Dale wherein her Fathers dwelt, +and where her mother’s ashes lie in earth.’ +Albeit now was her sorrow but little, and much was her hope, and +her foresight of days to be; though all the Dale, yea, every leaf +and twig of it whereby her feet had ever passed, and each stone +of the fair houses, was to her as a picture that she could look +on from henceforth for ever.</p> +<p>Of the Bride it is to be said that she was now much mended, +and she caused men bear her on a litter out into the Marketplace, +that she might look on the departure of her folk. She had +seen Face-of-god once and again since the Day of Battle, and each +time had been kind and blithe with him; and for Iron-face, <a +name="page396"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 396</span>she loved +him so well that she was ever loth to let him depart from her, +save when Folk-might was with her.</p> +<p>And now was the Alderman standing beside her, and she said to +him: ‘Friend and kinsman, this is the day of departure, and +though I must needs abide behind, and am content to abide, yet +doth mine heart ache with the sundering; for to-morrow when I +wake in the morning there will be no more sending of a messenger +to fetch thee to me. Indeed, great hath been the love +between me and my people, and nought hath come between us to mar +it. Now, kinsman, I would see Gold-mane, my cousin, that I +may bid him farewell; for who knoweth if I shall see him again +hereafter?’</p> +<p>Then went Iron-face and found Face-of-god where he was +speaking with Folk-might and the chieftains, and said to him:</p> +<p>‘Come quickly, for thy cousin the Bride would speak with +thee.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god reddened, and paled afterwards, but he went along +with his father silently; and his heart beat as he came and stood +before the litter whereas the Bride lay, clad all in white and +propped up on fair cushions of red silk. She was frail to +look on, and worn and pale yet; but he deemed that she was very +happy.</p> +<p>She smiled on him, and reached out her hand and said:</p> +<p>‘Welcome once more, cousin!’ And he held her +hand and kissed it, and was nigh weeping, so sore was he beset by +a throng of memories concerning her and him in the days when they +were little; and he bethought him of her loving-kindness of past +days, beyond that of most children, beyond that of most maidens; +and how there was nothing in his life but she had a share in it, +till the day when he found the Hall on the Mountain.</p> +<p>So he said to her: ‘Kinswoman, is it well with +thee?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘I am now nigh whole of my +hurts.’</p> +<p>He was silent a while; then he said:</p> +<p>‘And otherwise art thou merry at heart?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, indeed,’ said she; ‘yet thou wilt not +find it hard to deem that I am sorry of the sundering betwixt me +and Burgdale.’</p> +<p><a name="page397"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 397</span>Again +was he silent, and said in a while: ‘Dost thou deem that I +wrought that sundering?’</p> +<p>She smiled kindly on him and said: ‘Gold-mane, my +playmate, thou art become a mighty warrior and a great chief; but +thou art not so mighty as that. Many things lay behind the +sundering which were neither thou nor I.’</p> +<p>‘Yet,’ said he, ‘it was but such a little +time agone that all things seemed so sure; and we—to both +of us was the outlook happy.’</p> +<p>‘Let it be happy still,’ she said, ‘now +begrudging is gone. Belike the sundering came because we +were so sure, and had no defence against the wearing of the days; +even as it fareth with a folk that hath no foes.’</p> +<p>He smiled and said: ‘Even as it hath befallen <i>thy</i> +folk, O Bride, a while ago.’</p> +<p>She reddened, and reached her hand to him, and he took it and +held it, and said: ‘Shall I see thee again as the days +wear?’</p> +<p>Said she: ‘O chieftain of the Folk, thou shalt have much +to do in Burgdale, and the way is long. Yet would I have +thee see my children. Forget not the token on my hand which +thou holdest. But now get thee to thy folk with no more +words; for after all, playmate, the sundering is grievous to me, +and I would not spin out the time thereof. +Farewell!’</p> +<p>He said no more, but stooped down and kissed her lips, and +then turned from her, and took his ways to the head of the Host, +and fell to asking and answering, and bidding and arraying; and +in a little time was his heart dancing with joy to think of the +days that lay before him, wherein now all seemed happy.</p> +<p>So was all arrayed for departure when it lacked three hours of +noon. As Folk-might had promised, there were certain light +wains drawn by bullocks abiding the departure of the Host, and of +sumpter bullocks and horses no few; and all these were laden with +fair gifts of the Dale, as silver, and raiment, and +weapons. There were many things fair-wrought in the time of +the Sorrow, <a name="page398"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +398</span>that henceforth should see but little sorrow. +Moreover, there was plenty of provision for the way, both meal +and wine, and sheep and neat; and all things as fair as might be, +and well-arrayed.</p> +<p>It was the Shepherds who were to lead the way; and after them +were arrayed the men of the Vine and the Sickle; then they of the +Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull; and lastly the House of the +Face, with old Stone-face leading them. The Sun-beam was to +journey along with the House of the Steer, which had taken her in +as a maiden of their blood; and though she had so much liefer +have fared with the House of the Face, yet she went meekly as she +was bidden, as one who has gotten a great thing, and will make no +stir about a small one.</p> +<p>Along with her were Wood-father and Wood-mother, and +Wood-wise, now whole of his hurt, and Wood-wont, and +Bow-may. Save Bow-may, they were not very joyous; for they +were fain of Silver-dale, and it irked them to leave it; +moreover, they also had liefer have gone along with the House of +the War-leader.</p> +<p>Last of all went those people of the once thralls of the Dusky +Men who had cast in their lot with the Burgdalers, and they were +exceeding merry; and especially the women of them, they were +chattering like the stares in the autumn evening, when they +gather from the fields in the tall elm-trees before they go to +roost.</p> +<p>Now all the men of the Dale, both of the kindreds and of the +thrall-folk, made way for the Host and its havings, that they +might go their ways down the Dale; albeit the Woodlanders clung +close to the line of their ancient friends, and with them, as men +who were sorry for the sundering, were Wolf-stone and God-swain +and Spear-fist. But the chiefs, they drew around Folk-might +a little beside the way.</p> +<p>Now Red-coat of Waterless, who had been hurt, and was now +whole again, cast his arms about Folk-might and kissed him, and +said:</p> +<p>‘All the way hence to Burgdale will I sow with good +wishes <a name="page399"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +399</span>for thee and thine, and especially for my dear friend +God-swain of the Silver Arm; and I would wish and long that they +might turn into spells to draw thy feet to usward; for we love +thee well.’</p> +<p>In like wise spake other of the Burgdalers; and Folk-might was +kind and blithe with them, and he said:</p> +<p>‘Friends, forget ye not that the way is no longer from +you to us than it is from us to you. One half of this +matter it is for you to deal with.’</p> +<p>‘True is that,’ said Red-beard of the Knolls, +‘but look you, Folk-might, we be but simple husbandmen, and +may not often stir from our meadows and acres; even now I bethink +me that May is amidst us, and I am beginning to be drawn by the +thought of the haysel. Whereas thou—’ (and +therewith he reddened) ‘I doubt that thou hast little to do +save the work of chieftains, and we know that such work is but +little missed if it be undone.’</p> +<p>Thereat Folk-might laughed; and when the others saw that he +laughed, they laughed also, else had they foreborne for +courtesy’s sake.</p> +<p>But Folk-might answered: ‘Nay, chief of the Sickle, I am +not altogether a chieftain, now we have gotten us peace; and +somewhat of a husbandman shall I be. Moreover, doubt ye not +that I shall do my utmost to behold the fair Dale again; for it +is but mountains that meet not.’</p> +<p>Now spake Face-of-god to Folk-might, smiling and somewhat +softly, and said: ‘Is all forgiven now, since the day when +we first felt each other’s arms?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, all,’ said Folk-might; ‘now hath +befallen what I foretold thee in Shadowy Vale, that thou mightest +pay for all that had come and gone, if thou wouldest but look to +it. Indeed thou wert angry with me for that saying on that +eve of Shadowy Vale; but see thou, in those days I was an older +man than thou, and might admonish thee somewhat; but now, though +but few days have gone over thine head, yet many deeds have +abided in thine hand, and thou art much aged. Anger hath +left thee, and wisdom hath <a name="page400"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 400</span>waxed in thee. As for me, I +may now say this word: May the Folk of Burgdale love the Folk of +Silver-dale as well as I love thee; then shall all be +well.’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god cast his arms about him and kissed him, and +turned away toward Stone-face and Hall-face his brother, where +they stood at the head of the array of the Face; and even +therewith came up the Alderman somewhat sad and sober of +countenance, and he pushed by the War-leader roughly and would +not speak with him.</p> +<p>And now blew up the horns of the Shepherds, and they began to +move on amidst the shouting of the men of Silver-dale; yet were +there amongst the Woodlanders those who wept when they saw their +friends verily departing from them.</p> +<p>But when they of the foremost of the Host were gotten so far +forward that the men of the Face could begin to move, lo! there +was Redesman with his fiddle amongst the leaders; and he had done +a man’s work in the day of battle, and all looked kindly on +him. About him on this morn were some who had learned the +craft of singing well together, and knew his minstrelsy, and he +turned to these and nodded as their array moved on, and he drew +his bow across the strings, and straightway they fell a-singing, +even as it might be thus:</p> +<p class="poetry">Back again to the dear Dale where born was the +kindred,<br /> + Here wend we all living, and liveth our mirth.<br /> +Here afoot fares our joyance, whatever men hindred,<br /> + Through all wrath of the heavens, all storms of the +earth.</p> +<p class="poetry">O true, we have left here a part of our +treasure,<br /> + The ashes of stout ones, the stems of the shield;<br +/> +But the bold lives they spended have sown us new pleasure,<br /> + Fair tales for the telling in fold and on field.</p> +<p class="poetry">For as oft as we sing of their edges’ +upheaving,<br /> + When the yellowing windows shine forth o’er +the night,<br /> +<a name="page401"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 401</span>Their +names unforgotten with song interweaving<br /> + Shall draw forth dear drops from the depths of +delight.</p> +<p class="poetry">Or when down by our feet the grey sickles are +lying,<br /> + And behind us is curling the supper-tide smoke,<br +/> +No whit shall they grudge us the joyance undying,<br /> + Remembrance of men that put from us the yoke.</p> +<p class="poetry">When the huddle of ewes from the fells we have +driven,<br /> + And we see down the Dale the grey reach of the +roof,<br /> +We shall tell of the gift in the battle-joy given,<br /> + All the fierceness of friends that drave sorrow +aloof.</p> +<p class="poetry">Once then we lamented, and mourned them +departed;<br /> + Once only, no oftener. Henceforth shall we +fling<br /> +Their names up aloft, when the merriest hearted<br /> + To the Fathers unseen of our life-days we sing.</p> +<p>Then was there silence in the ranks of men; and many murmured +the names of the fallen as they fared on their way from out the +Market-place of Silver-stead. Then once more Redesman and +his mates took up the song:</p> +<p class="poetry">Come tell me, O friends, for whom bideth the +maiden<br /> + Wet-foot from the river-ford down in the Dale?<br /> +For whom hath the goodwife the ox-waggon laden<br /> + With the babble of children, brown-handed and +hale?</p> +<p class="poetry">Come tell me for what are the women abiding,<br +/> + Till each on the other aweary they lean?<br /> +Is it loitering of evil that thus they are chiding,<br /> + The slow-footed bearers of sorrow unseen?</p> +<p class="poetry">Nay, yet were they toiling if sorrow had worn +them,<br /> + Or hushed had they bided with lips parched and +wan.<br /> +The birds of the air other tidings have borne them—<br /> + How glad through the wood goeth man beside man.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page402"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +402</span>Then fare forth, O valiant, and loiter no longer<br /> + Than the cry of the cuckoo when May is at hand;<br +/> +Late waxeth the spring-tide, and daylight grows longer,<br /> + And nightly the star-street hangs high o’er +the land.</p> +<p class="poetry">Many lives, many days for the Dale do ye +carry;<br /> + When the Host breaketh out from the thicket +unshorn,<br /> +It shall be as the sun that refuseth to tarry<br /> + On the crown of all mornings, the Midsummer +morn.</p> +<p>Again the song fell down till they were well on the western +way down Silver-dale; and then Redesman handled his fiddle once +more, and again the song rose up, and such-like were the words +which were borne back into the Market-place of Silver-stead:</p> +<p class="poetry">And yet what is this, and why fare ye so +slowly,<br /> + While our echoing halls of our voices are dumb,<br +/> +And abideth unlitten the hearth-brand the holy,<br /> + And the feet of the kind fare afield till we +come?</p> +<p class="poetry">For not yet through the wood and its tangle ye +wander;<br /> + Now skirt we no thicket, no path by the mere;<br /> +Far aloof for our feet leads the Dale-road out yonder;<br /> + Full fair is the morning, its doings all clear.</p> +<p class="poetry">There is nought now our feet on the highway +delaying<br /> + Save the friend’s loving-kindness, the +sundering of speech;<br /> +The well-willer’s word that ends words with the saying,<br +/> + The loth to depart while each looketh on each.</p> +<p class="poetry">Fare on then, for nought are ye laden with +sorrow;<br /> + The love of this land do ye bear with you still.<br +/> +In two Dales of the earth for to-day and to-morrow<br /> + Is waxing the oak-tree of peace and good-will.</p> +<p>Thus then they departed from Silver-dale, even as men who were +a portion thereof, and had not utterly left it behind. And +<a name="page403"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 403</span>that +night they lay in the wild-wood not very far from the +Dale’s end; for they went softly, faring amongst so many +friends.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER LVI. TALK UPON THE WILD-WOOD WAY.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">On</span> the morrow morning when they +were on their way again Face-of-god left his own folk to go with +the House of the Steer a while; and amongst them he fell in with +the Sun-beam going along with Bow-may. So they greeted him +kindly, and Face-of-god fell into talk with the Sun-beam as they +went side by side through a great oak-wood, where for a space was +plain green-sward bare of all underwood.</p> +<p>So in their talk he said to her: ‘What deemest thou, my +speech-friend, concerning our coming back to guest in Silver-dale +one day?’</p> +<p>‘The way is long,’ she said.</p> +<p>‘That may hinder us but not stay us,’ said +Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘That is sooth,’ said the Sun-beam.</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘What things shall stay us? Or +deemest thou that we shall never see Silver-dale +again?’</p> +<p>She smiled: ‘Even so I think thou deemest, +Gold-mane. But many things shall hinder us besides the long +road.’</p> +<p>Said he: ‘Yea, and what things?’</p> +<p>‘Thinkest thou,’ said the Sun-beam, ‘that +the winning of Silver-stead is the last battle which thou shalt +see?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said he, ‘nay.’</p> +<p>‘Shall thy Dale—our Dale—be free from all +trouble within itself henceforward? Is there a wall built +round it to keep out for ever storm, pestilence, and famine, and +the waywardness of its own folk?’</p> +<p>‘So it is as thou sayest,’ quoth Face-of-god, +‘and to meet such troubles and overcome them, or to die in +strife with them, this is a great part of a man’s +life.’</p> +<p><a name="page404"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +404</span>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and hast thou +forgotten that thou art now a great chieftain, and that the folk +shall look to thee to use thee many days in the year?’</p> +<p>He laughed and said: ‘So it is. How many days have +gone by since I wandered in the wood last autumn, that the world +should have changed so much!’</p> +<p>‘Many deeds shall now be in thy days,’ she said, +‘and each deed as the corn of wheat from which cometh many +corns; and a man’s days on the earth are not over +many.’</p> +<p>‘Then farewell, Silver-dale!’ said he, waving his +hand toward the north. ‘War and trouble may bring me +back to thee, but it maybe nought else shall. +Farewell!’</p> +<p>She looked on him fondly but unsmiling, as he went beside her +strong and warrior-like. Three paces from him went Bow-may, +barefoot, in her white kirtle, but bearing her bow in her hand; a +leash of arrows was in her girdle, her quiver hung at her back, +and she was girt with a sword. On the other side went +Wood-wont and Wood-wise, lightly clad but weaponed. +Wood-mother was riding in an ox-wain just behind them, and +Wood-father went beside her bearing an axe. Scattered all +about them were the men of the Steer, gaily clad, bearing +weapons, so that the oak-wood was bright with them, and the +glades merry with their talk and singing and laughter, and before +them down the glades went the banner of the Steer, and the White +Beast led them the nearest way to Burgdale.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER LVII. HOW THE HOST CAME HOME AGAIN.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was fourteen days before they +came to Rose-dale; for they had much baggage with them, and they +had no mind to weary themselves, and the wood was nothing +loathsome to them, whereas the weather was fair and bright for +the more part. They fell in with no mishap by the +way. But a score and three <a name="page405"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 405</span>of runaways joined themselves to the +Host, having watched their goings and wotting that they were not +foemen. Of these, some had heard of the overthrow of the +Dusky Men in Silver-dale, and others not. The Burgdalers +received them all, for it seemed to them no great matter for a +score or so of new-comers to the Dale.</p> +<p>But when the Host was come to Rose-dale, they found it fair +arid lovely; and there they met with those of their folk who had +gone with Dallach. But Dallach welcomed the kindreds with +great joy, and bade them abide; for he said that they had the +less need to hasten, since he had sent messengers into Burgdale +to tell men there of the tidings. Albeit they were mostly +loth to tarry; yet when he lay hard on them not to depart as men +on the morrow of a gild-feast, they abode there three days, and +were as well guested as might be, and on their departure they +were laden with gifts from the wealth of Rose-dale by Dallach and +his folk.</p> +<p>Before they went their ways Dallach spake with Face-of-god and +the chiefs of the Dalesmen, and said:</p> +<p>‘Ye have given me much from the time when ye found me in +the wood a naked wastrel; yet now I would ask you a gift to lay +on the top of all that ye have given me.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Name the gift, and thou shalt have +it; for we deem thee our friend.’</p> +<p>‘I am no less,’ said Dallach, ‘as in time to +come I may perchance be able to show you. But now I am +asking you to suffer a score or two of your men to abide here +with me this summer, till I see how this folk new-born again is +like to deal with me. For pleasure and a fair life have +become so strange to them, that they scarce know what to do with +them, or how to live; and unless all is to go awry, I must needs +command and forbid; and though belike they love me, yet they fear +me not; so that when my commandment pleaseth them, they do as I +bid, and when it pleaseth them not, they do contrary to my <a +name="page406"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 406</span>bidding; +for it hath got into their minds that I shall in no case lift a +hand against them, which indeed is the very sooth. But your +folk they fear as warriors of the world, who have slain the Dusky +Men in the Market-place of Silver-stead; and they are of alien +blood to them, men who will do as their friend biddeth (think our +folk) against them who are neither friends or foes. With +such help I shall be well holpen.’</p> +<p>In such wise spake Dallach; and Face-of-god and the chiefs +said that so it should be, if men could be found willing to abide +in Rose-dale for a while. And when the matter was put +abroad, there was no lack of such men amongst the younger +warriors, who had noted that the dale was fair amongst dales and +its women fairer yet amongst women.</p> +<p>So two score and ten of the Burgdale men abode in Rose-dale, +no one of whom was of more than twenty and five winters. +Forsooth divers of them set up house in Rose-dale, and never came +back to Burgdale, save as guests. For a half score were +wedded in Rose-dale before the year’s ending; and seven +more, who had also taken to them wives of the goodliest of the +Rose-dale women, betook them the next spring to the Burg of the +Runaways, and there built them a stead, and drew a garth about +it, and dug and sowed the banks of the river, which they called +Inglebourne. And as years passed, this same stead throve +exceedingly, and men resorted thither both from Rose-dale and +Burgdale; for it was a pleasant place; and the land, when it was +cured, was sweet and good, and the wood thereabout was full of +deer of all kinds. So their stead was called Inglebourne +after the stream; and in latter days it became a very goodly +habitation of men.</p> +<p>Moreover, some of the once-enthralled folk of Rose-dale, when +they knew that men of their kindred from Silver-dale were going +home with the men of Burgdale to dwell in the Dale, prayed hard +to go along with them; for they looked on the Burgdalers as if +they were new Gods of the Earth. The Burgdale chiefs <a +name="page407"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 407</span>would not +gainsay these men either, but took with them three score and ten +from Rose-dale, men and women, and promised them dwelling and +livelihood in Burgdale.</p> +<p>So now with good hearts the Host of Burgdale turned their +faces toward their well-beloved Dale; and they made good +diligence, so that in three days’ time they were come anigh +the edge of the woodland wilderness. Thither in the +even-tide, as they were making ready for their last supper and +bed in the wood, came three men and two women of their folk, who +had been abiding their coming ever since they had had the tidings +of Silver-dale and the battles from Dallach. Great was the +joy of these messengers as they went from company to company of +the warriors, and saw the familiar faces of their friends, and +heard their wonted voices telling all the story of battle and +slaughter. And for their part the men of the Host feasted +these stay-at-homes, and made much of them. But one of +them, a man of the House of the Face, left the Host a little +after nightfall, and bore back to Burgstead at once the tidings +of the coming home of the Host. Albeit since +Dallach’s tidings of victory had come to the Dale, the +dwellers in the steads of the country-side had left Burgstead and +gone home to their own houses; so that there was no great +multitude abiding in the Thorp.</p> +<p>So early on the morrow was the Host astir; but ere they came +to Wildlake’s Way, the Shepherd-folk turned aside westward +to go home, after they had bidden farewell to their friends and +fellows of the Dale; for their souls longed for the sheepcotes in +the winding valleys under the long grey downs; and the garths +where the last year’s ricks shouldered up against the old +stone gables, and where the daws were busy in the tall unfrequent +ash-trees; and the green flowery meadows adown along the bright +streams, where the crowfoot and the paigles were blooming now, +and the harebells were in flower about the thorn-bushes at the +down’s foot, whence went the savour of their blossom over +sheep-walk and water-meadow.</p> +<p><a name="page408"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 408</span>So +these went their ways with many kind words; and two hours +afterwards all the rest of the Host stood on the level ground of +the Portway; but presently were the ranks of war disordered and +broken up by the joy of the women and children, as they fell to +drawing goodman or brother or lover out of the throng to the way +that led speediest to their homesteads and halls. For the +War-leader would not hold the Host together any longer, but +suffered each man to go to his home, deeming that the men of +Burgstead, and chiefly they of the Face and the Steer, would +suffice for a company if any need were, and they would be easily +gathered to meet any hap.</p> +<p>So now the men of the Middle and Lower Dale made for their +houses by the road and the lanes and the meadows, and the men of +the Upper Dale and Burgstead went their ways along the Portway +toward their halls, with the throng of women and children that +had come out to meet them. And now men came home when it +was yet early, and the long day lay before them; and it was, as +it were, made giddy and cumbered with the exceeding joy of +return, and the thought of the day when the fear of death and +sundering had been ever in their hearts. For these new +hours were full of the kissing and embracing of lovers, and the +sweetness of renewed delight in beholding the fair bodies so +sorely desired, and hearkening the soft wheedling of longed-for +voices. There were the cups of friends beneath the chestnut +trees, and the talk of the deeds of the fighting-men, and of the +heavy days of the home-abiders; many a tale told oft and +o’er again. There was the singing of old songs and of +new, and the beholding the well-loved nook of the pleasant +places, which death might well have made nought for them; and +they were sweet with the fear of that which was past, and in +their pleasantness was fresh promise for the days to come.</p> +<p>So amid their joyance came evening and nightfall; and though +folk were weary with the fulness of delight, yet now for many +their weariness led them to the chamber of love before the rest +of <a name="page409"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 409</span>deep +night came to them to make them strong for the happy life to be +begun again on the morrow.</p> +<p>House by house they feasted, and few were the lovers that sat +not together that even. But Face-of-god and the Sun-beam +parted at the door of the House of the Face; for needs must she +go with her new folk to the House of the Steer, and needs must +Face-of-god be amongst his own folk in that hour of high-tide, +and sit beside his father beneath the image of the God with the +ray-begirt head.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER LVIII. HOW THE MAIDEN WARD WAS HELD IN +BURGDALE.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> May was well worn when the Host +came home to Burgdale; and on the very morrow of men’s +home-coming they began to talk eagerly of the Midsummer Weddings, +and how the Maiden Ward would be the greatest and fairest of all +yet seen, whereas battle and the deliverance from battle stir up +the longing and love both of men and maidens; much also men spake +of the wedding of Face-of-god and the Sun-beam; and needs must +their wedding abide to the time of the Maiden Ward at Midsummer, +and needs also must the Sun-beam go on the Ward with the other +Brides of the Folk. So then must Face-of-god keep his soul +in patience till those few days were over, doing what work came +to hand; and he held his head high among the people, and was well +looked to of every man.</p> +<p>In all matters the Sun-beam helped him, both in doing and in +forbearing; and now so wonderful and rare was her beauty, that +folk looked on her with somewhat of fear, as though she came from +the very folk of the Gods.</p> +<p>Indeed she seemed somewhat changed from what she had been of +late; she was sober of demeanour during these last days of <a +name="page410"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 410</span>her +maidenhood, and sat amongst the kindred as one communing with +herself: of few words she was and little laughter; but her face +clear, not overcast by any gloom or shaken by passion: soft and +kind was she in converse with others, and sweet were the smiles +that came into her face if others’ faces seemed to crave +for them. For it must be said that as some folk eat out +their hearts with fear of the coming evils, even so was she +feeding her soul with the joy of the days to be, whatever trouble +might fall upon them, whereof belike she foreboded some.</p> +<p>So wore the days toward Midsummer, when the wheat was getting +past the blossoming, and the grass in the mown fields was growing +deep green again after the shearing of the scythe; when the +leaves were most and biggest; when the roses were beginning to +fall; when the apples were reddening, and the skins of the +grape-berries gathering bloom. High aloft floated the light +clouds over the Dale; deep blue showed the distant fells below +the ice-mountains; the waters dwindled; all things sought the +shadow by daytime, and the twilight of even and the twilight of +dawn were but sundered by three hours of half-dark night.</p> +<p>So in the bright forenoon were seventeen brides assembled in +the Gate of Burgstead (but of the rest of the Dale were twenty +and three looked for), and with these was the Sun-beam, her face +as calm as the mountain lake under a summer sunset, while of the +others many were restless, and babbling like April throstles; and +not a few talked to her eagerly, and in their restless love of +her dragged her about hither and thither.</p> +<p>No men were to be seen that morning; for such was the custom, +that the carles either departed to the fields and the acres, or +abode within doors on the morn of the day of the Maiden Ward; but +there was a throng of women about the Gate and down the street of +Burgstead, and it may well be deemed that they kept not silence +that hour.</p> +<p>So fared the Brides of Burgstead to the place of the Maiden +Ward on the causeway, whereto were come already the other <a +name="page411"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 411</span>brides from +steads up and down the Dale, or were even then close at hand on +the way; and among them were Long-coat and her two fellows, with +whom Face-of-god had held converse on that morning whereon he had +followed his fate to the Mountain.</p> +<p>There then were they gathered under the cliff-wall of the +Portway; and by the road-side had their grooms built them up +bowers of green boughs to shelter them from the sun’s +burning, which were thatched with bulrushes, and decked with +garlands of the fairest flowers of the meadows and the +gardens.</p> +<p>Forsooth they were a lovely sight to look on, for no fairer +women might be seen in the world; and the eldest of them was +scant of five and twenty winters. Every maiden was clad in +as goodly raiment as she might compass; their sleeves and +gown-hems and girdles, yea, their very shoes and sandals were +embroidered so fairly and closely, that as they shifted in the +sun they changed colour like the king-fisher shooting from shadow +to sunshine. According to due custom every maiden bore some +weapon. A few had bows in their hands and quivers at their +backs; some had nought but a sword girt to their sides; some bore +slender-shafted spears, so as not to overburden their shapely +hands; but to some it seemed a merry game to carry long and heavy +thrust-spears, or to bear great war-axes over their +shoulders. Most had their flowing hair coifed with bright +helms; some had burdened their arms with shields; some bore steel +hauberks over their linen smocks: almost all had some piece of +war-gear on their bodies; and one, to wit, Steed-linden of the +Sickle, a tall and fair damsel, was so arrayed that no garment +could be seen on her but bright steel war-gear.</p> +<p>As for the Sun-beam, she was clad in a white kirtle +embroidered from throat to hem with work of green boughs and +flowers of the goodliest fashion, and a garland of roses on her +head. Dale-warden himself was girt to her side by a girdle +fair-wrought of golden wire, and she bore no other weapon or +war-gear; and she let him lie quiet in his scabbard, nor touched +the hilts once; whereas <a name="page412"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 412</span>some of the other damsels would be +ever drawing their swords out and thrusting them back. But +all noted that goodly weapon, the yoke-fellow of so many great +deeds.</p> +<p>There then on the Portway, between the water and the +rock-wall, rose up plenteous and gleeful talk of clear voices +shrill and soft; and whiles the maidens sang, and whiles they +told tales of old days, and whiles they joined hands and danced +together on the sweet summer dust of the highway. Then they +mostly grew aweary, and sat down on the banks of the road or +under their leafy bowers.</p> +<p>Noon came, and therewithal goodwives of the neighbouring Dale, +who brought them meat and drink, and fruit and fresh flowers from +the teeming gardens; and thereafter for a while they nursed their +joy in their bosoms, and spake but little and softly while the +day was at its hottest in the early afternoon.</p> +<p>Then came out of Burgstead men making semblance of chapmen +with a wain bearing wares, and they made as though they were +wending down the Portway westward to go out of the Dale. +Then arose the weaponed maidens and barred the way to them, and +turned them back amidst fresh-springing merriment.</p> +<p>Again in a while, when the sun was westering and the shadows +growing long, came herdsmen from down the Dale driving neat, and +making as though they would pass by into Burgstead, but to them +also did the maidens gainsay the road, so that needs must they +turn back amidst laughter and mockery, they themselves also +laughing and mocking.</p> +<p>And so at last, when the maidens had been all alone a while, +and it was now hard on sunset, they drew together and stood in a +ring, and fell to singing; and one Gold-may of the House of the +Bridge, a most sweet singer, stood amidst their ring and led +them. And this is somewhat of the meaning of their +words:</p> +<p class="poetry">The sun will not tarry; now changeth the +light,<br /> +Fail the colours that marry the Day to the Night.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page413"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +413</span>Amid the sun’s burning bright weapons we bore,<br +/> +For this eve of our earning comes once and no more.</p> +<p class="poetry">For to-day hath no brother in yesterday’s +tide,<br /> +And to-morrow no other alike it doth hide.</p> +<p class="poetry">This day is the token of oath and behest<br /> +That ne’er shall be broken through ill days and best.</p> +<p class="poetry">Here the troth hath been given, the oath hath +been done,<br /> +To the Folk that hath thriven well under the sun.</p> +<p class="poetry">And the gifts of its giving our troth-day shall +win<br /> +Are the Dale for our living and dear days therein.</p> +<p class="poetry">O Sun, now thou wanest! yet come back and +see<br /> +Amidst all that thou gainest how gainful are we.</p> +<p class="poetry">O witness of sorrow wide over the earth,<br /> +Rise up on the morrow to look on our mirth!</p> +<p class="poetry">Thy blooms art thou bringing back ever for +men,<br /> +And thy birds are a-singing each summer again.</p> +<p class="poetry">But to men little-hearted what winter is +worse<br /> +Than thy summers departed that bore them the curse?</p> +<p class="poetry">And e’en such art thou knowing where +thriveth the year,<br /> +And good is all growing save thralldom and fear.</p> +<p class="poetry">Nought such be our lovers’ hearts drawing +anigh,<br /> +While yet thy light hovers aloft in the sky.</p> +<p class="poetry">Lo the seeker, the finder of Death in the +Blade!<br /> +What lips shall be kinder on lips of mine laid?</p> +<p class="poetry">La he that hath driven back tribes of the +South!<br /> +Sweet-breathed is thine even, but sweeter his mouth.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page414"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +414</span>Come back from the sea then, O sun! come aback,<br /> +Look adown, look on me then, and ask what I lack!</p> +<p class="poetry">Come many a morrow to gaze on the Dale,<br /> +And if e’er thou seest sorrow remember its tale!</p> +<p class="poetry">For ’twill be of a story to tell how men +died<br /> +In the garnering of glory that no man may hide.</p> +<p class="poetry">O sun sinking under! O fragrance of +earth!<br /> +O heart! O the wonder whence longing has birth!</p> +<p>So they sang, and the sun sank indeed; and amidst their +singing the eve was still about them, though there came a happy +murmur from the face of the meadows and the houses of the Thorp +aloof. But as their song fell they heard the sound of +footsteps a many on the road; so they turned and stood with +beating hearts in such order as when a band of the valiant draw +together to meet many foes coming on them from all sides, and +they stand back to back to face all comers. And even +therewith, their raiment gleaming amidst the gathering dusk, came +on them the young men of the Dale newly delivered from the grief +of war.</p> +<p>Then in very deed the fierce mouths of the raisers of the +war-shout were kind on the faces of tender maidens. Then +went spear and axe and helm and shield clattering to the earth, +as the arms of the new-comers went round about the bodies of the +Brides, weary with the long day of sunshine, and glee and loving +speech, and the maidens suffered the young men to lead them +whither they would, and twilight began to draw round about them +as the Maiden Band was sundered.</p> +<p>Some, they were led away westward down the Portway to the +homesteads thereabout; and for divers of these the way was long +to their halls, and they would have to wend over long stretches +of dewy meadows, and hear the night-wind whisper in <a +name="page415"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 415</span>many a +tree, and see the east begin to lighten with the dawn before they +came to the lighted feast that awaited them. But some +turned up the Portway straight towards Burgstead; and short was +their road to the halls where even now the lights were being +kindled for their greeting.</p> +<p>As for the Sun-beam, she had been very quiet the day long, +speaking as little as she might do, laughing not at all, and +smiling for kindness’ sake rather than for merriment; and +when the grooms came seeking their maidens, she withdrew herself +from the band, and stood alone amidst the road nigher to +Burgstead than they; and her heart beat hard, and her breath came +short and quick, as though fear had caught her in its grip; and +indeed for one moment of time she feared that he was not coming +to her. For he had gone with the other grooms to that +gathered band, and had passed from one to the other, not finding +her, till he had got him through the whole company, and beheld +her awaiting him. Then indeed he bounded toward her, and +caught her by the hands, and then by the shoulders, and drew her +to him, and she nothing loth; and in that while he said to +her:</p> +<p>‘Come then, my friend; lo thou! they go each their own +way toward the halls of their houses; and for thee have I chosen +a way—a way over the foot-bridge yonder, and over the dewy +meadows on this best even of the year.’</p> +<p>‘Nay, nay,’ she said, ‘it may not be. +Surely the Burgstead grooms look to thee to lead them to the +gate; and surely in the House of the Face they look to see thee +before any other. Nay, Gold-mane, my dear, we must needs go +by the Portway.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘We shall be home but a very little while after +the first, for the way I tell of is as short as the +Portway. But hearken, my sweet! When we are in the +meadows we shall sit down for a minute on a bank under the +chestnut trees, and thence watch the moon coming up over the +southern cliffs. And I shall behold thee in the summer +night, and deem that I see <a name="page416"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 416</span>all thy beauty; which yet shall make +me dumb with wonder when I see it indeed in the house amongst the +candles.’</p> +<p>‘O nay,’ she said, ‘by the Portway shall we +go; the torch-bearers shall be abiding thee at the +gate.’</p> +<p>Spake Face-of-god: ‘Then shall we rise up and wend first +through a wide treeless meadow, wherein amidst the night we shall +behold the kine moving about like odorous shadows; and through +the greyness of the moonlight thou shalt deem that thou seest the +pink colour of the eglantine blossoms, so fragrant they +are.’</p> +<p>‘O nay,’ she said, ‘but it is meet that we +go by the Portway.’</p> +<p>But he said: ‘Then from the wide meadow come we into a +close of corn, and then into an orchard-close beyond it. +There in the ancient walnut-tree the owl sitteth breathing hard +in the night-time; but thou shalt not hear him for the joy of the +nightingales singing from the apple-trees of the close. +Then from out of the shadowed orchard shall we come into the open +town-meadow, and over its daisies shall the moonlight be lying in +a grey flood of brightness.</p> +<p>‘Short is the way across it to the brim of the Weltering +Water, and across the water lieth the fair garden of the Face; +and I have dight for thee there a little boat to waft us across +the night-dark waters, that shall be like wavering flames of +white fire where the moon smites them, and like the void of all +things where the shadows hang over them. There then shall +we be in the garden, beholding how the hall-windows are yellow, +and hearkening the sound of the hall-glee borne across the +flowers and blending with the voice of the nightingales in the +trees. There then shall we go along the grass paths whereby +the pinks and the cloves and the lavender are sending forth their +fragrance, to cheer us, who faint at the scent of the over-worn +roses, and the honey-sweetness of the lilies.</p> +<p>‘All this is for thee, and for nought but for thee this +even; and many a blossom whereof thou knowest nought shall grieve +if <a name="page417"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 417</span>thy +foot tread not thereby to-night; if the path of thy wedding which +I have made, be void of thee, on the even of the Chamber of +Love.</p> +<p>‘But lo! at last at the garden’s end is the +yew-walk arched over for thee, and thou canst not see whereby to +enter it; but I, I know it, and I lead thee into and along the +dark tunnel through the moonlight, and thine hand is not weary of +mine as we go. But at the end shall we come to a wicket, +which shall bring us out by the gable-end of the Hall of the +Face. Turn we about its corner then, and there are we +blinking on the torches of the torch-bearers, and the candles +through the open door, and the hall ablaze with light and full of +joyous clamour, like the bale-fire in the dark night kindled on a +ness above the sea by fisher-folk remembering the +Gods.’</p> +<p>‘O nay,’ she said, ‘but by the Portway must +we go; the straightest way to the Gate of Burgstead.’</p> +<p>In vain she spake, and knew not what she said; for even as he +was speaking he led her away, and her feet went as her will went, +rather than her words; and even as she said that last word she +set her foot on the first board of the foot-bridge; and she +turned aback one moment, and saw the long line of the rock-wall +yet glowing with the last of the sunset of midsummer, while as +she turned again, lo! before her the moon just beginning to lift +himself above the edge of the southern cliffs, and betwixt her +and him all Burgdale, and Face-of-god moreover.</p> +<p>Thus then they crossed the bridge into the green meadows, and +through the closes and into the garden of the Face and unto the +Hall-door; and other brides and grooms were there before them +(for six grooms had brought home brides to the House of the +Face); but none deemed it amiss in the War-leader of the folk and +the love that had led him. And old Stone-face said: +‘Too many are the rows of bee-skeps in the gardens of the +Dale that we should begrudge wayward lovers an hour’s waste +of candle-light.’</p> +<p><a name="page418"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 418</span>So at +last those twain went up the sun-bright Hall hand in hand in all +their loveliness, and up on to the daïs, and stood together +by the middle seat; and the tumult of the joy of the kindred was +hushed for a while as they saw that there was speech in the mouth +of the War-leader.</p> +<p>Then he spread his hands abroad before them all and cried out: +‘How then have I kept mine oath, whereas I swore on the +Holy Boar to wed the fairest woman of the world?’</p> +<p>A mighty shout went rattling about the timbers of the roof in +answer to his word; and they that looked up to the gable of the +Hall said that they saw the ray-ringed image of the God smile +with joy over the gathered folk.</p> +<p>But spake Iron-face unheard amidst the clamour of the Hall: +‘How fares it now with my darling and my daughter, who +dwelleth amongst strangers in the land beyond the +wild-wood?’</p> +<h2>CHAPTER LIX. THE BEHEST OF FACE-OF-GOD TO THE BRIDE +ACCOMPLISHED: A MOTE-STEAD APPOINTED FOR THE THREE FOLKS, TO WIT, +THE MEN OF BURGDALE, THE SHEPHERDS, AND THE CHILDREN OF THE +WOLF.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Three</span> years and two months +thereafter, three hours after noon in the days of early autumn, +came a wain tilted over with precious webs of cloth, and drawn by +eight white oxen, into the Market-place of Silver-stead: two +score and ten of spearmen of the tallest, clad in goodly +war-gear, went beside it, and much people of Silver-dale thronged +about them. The wain stayed at the foot of the stair that +led up to the door of the Mote-house, and there lighted down +therefrom a woman goodly of fashion, with wide grey eyes, and +face and hands brown with the sun’s burning. She had +a helm on her head and a sword girt to her side, and in her arms +she bore a yearling child.</p> +<p><a name="page419"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 419</span>And +there was come Bow-may with the second man-child born to +Face-of-god.</p> +<p>She stayed not amidst the wondering folk, but hastened up the +stair, which she had once seen running with the blood of men: the +door was open, and she went in and walked straight-way, with the +babe in her arms, up the great Hall to the daïs.</p> +<p>There were men on the daïs: amidmost sat Folk-might, +little changed since the last day she had seen him, yet fairer, +she deemed, than of old time; and her heart went forth to meet +the Chieftain of her Folk, and the glad tears started in her eyes +and ran down her cheeks as she drew near to him.</p> +<p>By his side sat the Bride, and her also Bow-may deemed to have +waxed goodlier. Both she and Folk-might knew Bow-may ere +she had gone half the length of the hall; and the Bride rose up +in her place and cried out Bow-may’s name joyously.</p> +<p>With these were sitting the elders of the Wolf and the +Woodlanders, the more part of whom Bow-may knew well.</p> +<p>On the daïs also stood aside a score of men weaponed, and +looking as if they were awaiting the word which should send them +forth on some errand.</p> +<p>Now stood up Folk-might and said: ‘Fair greeting and +love to my friend and the daughter of my Folk! How farest +thou, Bow-may, best of all friendly women? How fareth my +sister, and Face-of-god my brother? and how is it with our +friends and helpers in the goodly Dale?’</p> +<p>Said Bow-may: ‘It is well both with all those and with +me; and my heart laughs to see thee, Folk-might, and to look on +the elders of the valiant, and our lovely sister the Bride. +But I have a message for thee from Face-of-god: wilt thou that I +deliver it here?’</p> +<p>‘Yea surely,’ said Folk-might, and came forth and +took her hand, and kissed her cheeks and her mouth. The +Bride also came forth and cast her arms about her, and kissed +her; and they led her between them to a seat on the daïs +beside Folk-might.</p> +<p>But all men looked on the child in her arms and wondered <a +name="page420"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 420</span>what it +was. But Bow-may took the babe, which was both fair and +great, and set it on the knees of the Bride, and said:</p> +<p>‘Thus saith Face-of-god: “Friend and kinswoman, +well-beloved playmate, the gift which thou badest of me in sorrow +do thou now take in joy, and do all the good thou wouldest to the +son of thy friend. The ring which I gave thee once in the +garden of the Face, give thou to Bow-may, my trusty and +well-beloved, in token of the fulfilment of my +behest.”’</p> +<p>Then the Bride kissed Bow-may again, and fell to fondling of +the child, which was loth to leave Bow-may.</p> +<p>But she spake again: ‘To thee also, Folk-might, I have a +message from Face-of-god, who saith: “Mighty warrior, +friend and fellow, all things thrive with us, and we are +happy. Yet is there a hollow place in our hearts which +grieveth us, and only thou and thine may amend it. Though +whiles we hear tell of thee, yet we see thee not, and fain were +we, might we see thee, and wot if the said tales be true. +Wilt thou help us somewhat herein, or wilt thou leave us all the +labour? For sure we be that thou wilt not say that thou +rememberest us no more, and that thy love for us is +departed.” This is his message, Folk-might, and he +would have an answer from thee.’</p> +<p>Then laughed Folk-might and said: ‘Sister Bow-may, seest +thou these weaponed men hereby?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said.</p> +<p>Said he: ‘These men bear a message with them to +Face-of-god my brother. Crow the Shaft-speeder, stand forth +and tell thy friend Bow-may the message I have set in thy mouth, +every word of it.’</p> +<p>Then Crow stood forth and greeted Bow-may friendly, and said: +‘Friend Bow-may, this is the message of our Alderman: +“Friend and helper, in the Dale which thou hast given to us +do all things thrive; neither are we grown old in three +years’ wearing, nor are our memories worsened. We +long sore to see you and give you guesting in Silver-dale, and +one day that shall <a name="page421"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +421</span>befall. Meanwhile, know this: that we of the Wolf +and the Woodland, mindful of the earth that bore us, and the pit +whence we were digged, have a mind to go see Shadowy Vale once in +every three years, and there to hold high-tide in the ancient +Hall of the Wolf, and sit in the Doom-ring of our Fathers. +But since ye have joined yourselves to us in battle, and have +given us this Dale, our health and wealth, without price and +without reward, we deem you our very brethren, and small shall be +our hall-glee, and barren shall our Doom-ring seem to us, unless +ye sit there beside us. Come then, that we may rejoice each +other by the sight of face and sound of voice; that we may speak +together of matters that concern our welfare; so that we three +Kindreds may become one Folk. And if this seem good to you, +know that we shall be in Shadowy Vale in a half-month’s +wearing. Grieve us not by forbearing to come.” +Lo, Bow-may, this is the message, and I have learned it well, for +well it pleaseth me to bear it.’</p> +<p>Then said Folk-might: ‘What say’st thou to the +message, Bow-may?’</p> +<p>‘It is good in all ways,’ said she, ‘but is +it timely? May our folk have the message and get to Shadowy +Vale, so as to meet you there?’</p> +<p>‘Yea surely,’ said Folk-might, ‘for our +kinsmen here shall take the road through Shadowy Vale, and in +four days’ time they shall be in Burgdale, and as thou +wottest, it is scant a two days’ journey thence to Shadowy +Vale.’</p> +<p>Therewith he turned to those men again, and said: +‘Kinsman Crow, depart now, and use all diligence with thy +message.’</p> +<p>So the messengers began to stir; but Bow-may cried out: +‘Ho! Folk-might, my friend, I perceive thou art +little changed from the man I knew in Shadowy Vale, who would +have his dinner before the fowl were plucked. For shall I +not go back with these thy messengers, so that I also may get all +ready to wend to the Mote-house of Shadowy Vale?’</p> +<p><a name="page422"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 422</span>But +the Bride looked kindly on her, and laughed and said: +‘Sister Bow-may, his meaning is that thou shouldest abide +here in Silver-dale till we depart for the Folk-thing, and then +go thither with us; and this I also pray thee to do, that thou +mayst rejoice the hearts of thine old friends; and also that thou +mayst teach me all that I should know concerning this fair child +of my brother and my sister.’</p> +<p>And she looked on her so kindly as she caressed the babe, that +Bow-may’s heart melted, and she cried out:</p> +<p>‘Would that I might never depart from the house wherein +thou dwellest, O Bride of my Kinsman! And this that thou +biddest me is easy and pleasant for me to do. But +afterwards I must get me back to Burgdale; for I seem to have +left much there that calleth for me.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Folk-might, ‘and art thou +wedded, Bow-may? Shalt thou never bend the yew in battle +again?’</p> +<p>Said Bow-may soberly: ‘Who knoweth, chieftain? +Yea, I am wedded now these two years; and nought I looked for +less when I followed those twain through the wild-wood to +Burgdale.’</p> +<p>She sighed therewith, and said: ‘In all the Dale there +is no better man of his hands than my man, nor any goodlier to +look on, and he is even that Hart of Highcliff whom thou knowest +well, O Bride!’</p> +<p>Said the Bride: ‘Thou sayest sooth, there is no better +man in the Dale.’</p> +<p>Said Bow-may: ‘Sun-beam bade me wed him when he pressed +hard upon me.’ She stayed awhile, and then said: +‘Face-of-god also deemed I should not naysay the man; and +now my son by him is of like age to this little one.’</p> +<p>‘Good is thy story,’ said Folk-might; ‘or +deemest thou, Bow-may, that such strong and goodly women as thou, +and women so kind and friendly, should forbear the wedding and +the bringing forth of children? Yea, and we who may even +yet have to gather <a name="page423"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +423</span>to another field before we die, and fight for life and +the goods of life.’</p> +<p>‘Thou sayest well,’ she said; ‘all that hath +befallen me is good since the day whereon I loosed shaft from the +break of the bent over yonder.’</p> +<p>Therewith she fell a-musing, and made as though she were +hearkening to the soft voice of the Bride caressing the new-come +baby; but in sooth neither heard nor saw what was going on about +her, for her thoughts were in bygone days. Howbeit +presently she came to herself again, and fell to asking many +questions concerning Silver-dale and the kindred, and those who +had once been thralls of the Dusky Men; and they answered all +duly, and told her the whole story of the Dale since the Day of +the Victory.</p> +<p>So Bow-may and the carles who had come with her abode for that +half-month in Silver-dale, guested in all love by the folk +thereof, both the kindreds and the poor folk. And Bow-may +deemed that the Bride loved Face-of-god’s child little less +than her own, whereof she had two, a man and a woman; and thereat +was she full of joy, since she knew that Face-of-god and the +Sun-beam would be fain thereof.</p> +<p>Thereafter, when the time was come, fared Folk-might and the +Bride, and many of the elders and warriors of the Wolf and the +Woodland, to Shadowy Vale; and Dallach and the best of Rose-dale +went with them, being so bidden; and Bow-may and her following, +according to the word of the Bride. And in Shadowy Vale +they met Face-of-god and Alderman Iron-face, and the chiefs of +Burgdale and the Shepherds, and many others; and great joy there +was at the meeting. And the Sun-beam remembered the word +which she spoke to Face-of-god when first he came to Shadowy +Vale, that she would be wishful to see again the dwelling wherein +she had passed through so much joy and sorrow of her younger +days. But if anyone were fain of this meeting, the Alderman +was glad above all, when he took the <a name="page424"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 424</span>Bride once more in his arms, and +caressed her whom he had deemed should be a very daughter of his +House.</p> +<p>Now telleth the tale of all these kindreds, to wit, the Men of +Burgdale and the Sheepcotes; and the Children of the Wolf, and +the Woodlanders, and the Men of Rose-dale, that they were friends +henceforth, and became as one Folk, for better or worse, in peace +and in war, in waning and waxing; and that whatsoever befell +them, they ever held Shadowy Vale a holy place, and for long and +long after they met there in mid-autumn, and held converse and +counsel together.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">No more as now telleth the tale of these +Kindreds and Folks, but maketh an ending</span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">CHISWICK +PRESS:—C. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Roots of the Mountains + +Author: William Morris + +Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6050] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 24, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE ROOTS OF THE MOUNTAINS *** + + + + +Transcribed from the 1896 Longmans, Green, and Co. edition by David +Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + +THE ROOTS OF THE MOUNTAINS WHEREIN IS TOLD SOMEWHAT OF THE LIVES OF +THE MEN OF BURGDALE THEIR FRIENDS THEIR NEIGHBOURS THEIR FOEMEN AND +THEIR FELLOWS IN ARMS +BY WILLIAM MORRIS + + + + +Whiles carried o'er the iron road, +We hurry by some fair abode; +The garden bright amidst the hay, +The yellow wain upon the way, +The dining men, the wind that sweeps +Light locks from off the sun-sweet heaps - +The gable grey, the hoary roof, +Here now--and now so far aloof. +How sorely then we long to stay +And midst its sweetness wear the day, +And 'neath its changing shadows sit, +And feel ourselves a part of it. +Such rest, such stay, I strove to win +With these same leaves that lie herein. + + + +CHAPTER I. OF BURGSTEAD AND ITS FOLK AND ITS NEIGHBOURS + + + +Once upon a time amidst the mountains and hills and falling streams +of a fair land there was a town or thorp in a certain valley. This +was well-nigh encompassed by a wall of sheer cliffs; toward the East +and the great mountains they drew together till they went near to +meet, and left but a narrow path on either side of a stony stream +that came rattling down into the Dale: toward the river at that end +the hills lowered somewhat, though they still ended in sheer rocks; +but up from it, and more especially on the north side, they swelled +into great shoulders of land, then dipped a little, and rose again +into the sides of huge fells clad with pine-woods, and cleft here and +there by deep ghylls: thence again they rose higher and steeper, and +ever higher till they drew dark and naked out of the woods to meet +the snow-fields and ice-rivers of the high mountains. But that was +far away from the pass by the little river into the valley; and the +said river was no drain from the snow-fields white and thick with the +grinding of the ice, but clear and bright were its waters that came +from wells amidst the bare rocky heaths. + +The upper end of the valley, where it first began to open out from +the pass, was rugged and broken by rocks and ridges of water-borne +stones, but presently it smoothed itself into mere grassy swellings +and knolls, and at last into a fair and fertile plain swelling up +into a green wave, as it were, against the rock-wall which +encompassed it on all sides save where the river came gushing out of +the strait pass at the east end, and where at the west end it poured +itself out of the Dale toward the lowlands and the plain of the great +river. + +Now the valley was some ten miles of our measure from that place of +the rocks and the stone-ridges, to where the faces of the hills drew +somewhat anigh to the river again at the west, and then fell aback +along the edge of the great plain; like as when ye fare a-sailing +past two nesses of a river-mouth, and the main-sea lieth open before +you. + +Besides the river afore-mentioned, which men called the Weltering +Water, there were other waters in the Dale. Near the eastern pass, +entangled in the rocky ground was a deep tarn full of cold springs +and about two acres in measure, and therefrom ran a stream which fell +into the Weltering Water amidst the grassy knolls. Black seemed the +waters of that tarn which on one side washed the rocks-wall of the +Dale; ugly and aweful it seemed to men, and none knew what lay +beneath its waters save black mis-shapen trouts that few cared to +bring to net or angle: and it was called the Death-Tarn. + +Other waters yet there were: here and there from the hills on both +sides, but especially from the south side, came trickles of water +that ran in pretty brooks down to the river; and some of these sprang +bubbling up amidst the foot-mounds of the sheer-rocks; some had cleft +a rugged and strait way through them, and came tumbling down into the +Dale at diverse heights from their faces. But on the north side +about halfway down the Dale, one stream somewhat bigger than the +others, and dealing with softer ground, had cleft for itself a wider +way; and the folk had laboured this way wider yet, till they had made +them a road running north along the west side of the stream. Sooth +to say, except for the strait pass along the river at the eastern +end, and the wider pass at the western, they had no other way (save +one of which a word anon) out of the Dale but such as mountain goats +and bold cragsmen might take; and even of these but few. + +This midway stream was called the Wildlake, and the way along it +Wildlake's Way, because it came to them out of the wood, which on +that north side stretched away from nigh to the lip of the valley- +wall up to the pine woods and the high fells on the east and north, +and down to the plain country on the west and south. + +Now when the Weltering Water came out of the rocky tangle near the +pass, it was turned aside by the ground till it swung right up to the +feet of the Southern crags; then it turned and slowly bent round +again northward, and at last fairly doubled back on itself before it +turned again to run westward; so that when, after its second double, +it had come to flowing softly westward under the northern crags, it +had cast two thirds of a girdle round about a space of land a little +below the grassy knolls and tofts aforesaid; and there in that fair +space between the folds of the Weltering Water stood the Thorp +whereof the tale hath told. + +The men thereof had widened and deepened the Weltering Water about +them, and had bridged it over to the plain meads; and athwart the +throat of the space left clear by the water they had built them a +strong wall though not very high, with a gate amidst and a tower on +either side thereof. Moreover, on the face of the cliff which was +but a stone's throw from the gate they had made them stairs and +ladders to go up by; and on a knoll nigh the brow had built a watch- +tower of stone strong and great, lest war should come into the land +from over the hills. That tower was ancient, and therefrom the Thorp +had its name and the whole valley also; and it was called Burgstead +in Burgdale. + +So long as the Weltering Water ran straight along by the northern +cliffs after it had left Burgstead, betwixt the water and the cliffs +was a wide flat way fashioned by man's hand. Thus was the water +again a good defence to the Thorp, for it ran slow and deep there, +and there was no other ground betwixt it and the cliffs save that +road, which was easy to bar across so that no foemen might pass +without battle, and this road was called the Portway. For a long +mile the river ran under the northern cliffs, and then turned into +the midst of the Dale, and went its way westward a broad stream +winding in gentle laps and folds here and there down to the out-gate +of the Dale. But the Portway held on still underneath the rock-wall, +till the sheer-rocks grew somewhat broken, and were cumbered with +certain screes, and at last the wayfarer came upon the break in them, +and the ghyll through which ran the Wildlake with Wildlake's Way +beside it, but the Portway still went on all down the Dale and away +to the Plain-country. + +That road in the ghyll, which was neither wide nor smooth, the +wayfarer into the wood must follow, till it lifted itself out of the +ghyll, and left the Wildlake coming rattling down by many steps from +the east; and now the way went straight north through the woodland, +ever mounting higher, (because the whole set of the land was toward +the high fells,) but not in any cleft or ghyll. The wood itself +thereabout was thick, a blended growth of diverse kinds of trees, but +most of oak and ash; light and air enough came through their boughs +to suffer the holly and bramble and eglantine and other small wood to +grow together into thickets, which no man could pass without hewing a +way. But before it is told whereto Wildlake's Way led, it must be +said that on the east side of the ghyll, where it first began just +over the Portway, the hill's brow was clear of wood for a certain +space, and there, overlooking all the Dale, was the Mote-stead of the +Dalesmen, marked out by a great ring of stones, amidst of which was +the mound for the Judges and the Altar of the Gods before it. And +this was the holy place of the men of the Dale and of other folk +whereof the tale shall now tell. + +For when Wildlake's Way had gone some three miles from the Mote- +stead, the trees began to thin, and presently afterwards was a +clearing and the dwellings of men, built of timber as may well be +thought. These houses were neither rich nor great, nor was the folk +a mighty folk, because they were but a few, albeit body by body they +were stout carles enough. They had not affinity with the Dalesmen, +and did not wed with them, yet it is to be deemed that they were +somewhat akin to them. To be short, though they were freemen, yet as +regards the Dalesmen were they well-nigh their servants; for they +were but poor in goods, and had to lean upon them somewhat. No +tillage they had among those high trees; and of beasts nought save +some flocks of goats and a few asses. Hunters they were, and +charcoal-burners, and therein the deftest of men, and they could +shoot well in the bow withal: so they trucked their charcoal and +their smoked venison and their peltries with the Dalesmen for wheat +and wine and weapons and weed; and the Dalesmen gave them main good +pennyworths, as men who had abundance wherewith to uphold their +kinsmen, though they were but far-away kin. Stout hands had these +Woodlanders and true hearts as any; but they were few-spoken and to +those that needed them not somewhat surly of speech and grim of +visage: brown-skinned they were, but light-haired; well-eyed, with +but little red in their cheeks: their women were not very fair, for +they toiled like the men, or more. They were thought to be wiser +than most men in foreseeing things to come. They were much given to +spells, and songs of wizardry, and were very mindful of the old +story-lays, wherein they were far more wordy than in their daily +speech. Much skill had they in runes, and were exceeding deft in +scoring them on treen bowls, and on staves, and door-posts and roof- +beams and standing-beds and such like things. Many a day when the +snow was drifting over their roofs, and hanging heavy on the tree- +boughs, and the wind was roaring through the trees aloft and rattling +about the close thicket, when the boughs were clattering in the wind, +and crashing down beneath the weight of the gathering freezing snow, +when all beasts and men lay close in their lairs, would they sit long +hours about the house-fire with the knife or the gouge in hand, with +the timber twixt their knees and the whetstone beside them, +hearkening to some tale of old times and the days when their banner +was abroad in the world; and they the while wheedling into growth out +of the tough wood knots and blossoms and leaves and the images of +beasts and warriors and women. + +They were called nought save the Woodland-Carles in that day, though +time had been when they had borne a nobler name: and their abode was +called Carlstead. Shortly, for all they had and all they had not, +for all they were and all they were not, they were well-beloved by +their friends and feared by their foes. + +Now when Wildlake's Way was gotten to Carlstead, there was an end of +it toward the north; though beyond it in a right line the wood was +thinner, because of the hewing of the Carles. But the road itself +turned west at once and went on through the wood, till some four +miles further it first thinned and then ceased altogether, the ground +going down-hill all the way: for this was the lower flank of the +first great upheaval toward the high mountains. But presently, after +the wood was ended, the land broke into swelling downs and winding +dales of no great height or depth, with a few scattered trees about +the hillsides, mostly thorns or scrubby oaks, gnarled and bent and +kept down by the western wind: here and there also were yew-trees, +and whiles the hillsides would be grown over with box-wood, but none +very great; and often juniper grew abundantly. This then was the +country of the Shepherds, who were friends both of the Dalesmen and +the Woodlanders. They dwelt not in any fenced town or thorp, but +their homesteads were scattered about as was handy for water and +shelter. Nevertheless they had their own stronghold; for amidmost of +their country, on the highest of a certain down above a bottom where +a willowy stream winded, was a great earthwork: the walls thereof +were high and clean and overlapping at the entering in, and amidst of +it was a deep well of water, so that it was a very defensible place: +and thereto would they drive their flocks and herds when war was in +the land, for nought but a very great host might win it; and this +stronghold they called Greenbury. + +These Shepherd-Folk were strong and tall like the Woodlanders, for +they were partly of the same blood, but burnt they were both ruddy +and brown: they were of more words than the Woodlanders but yet not +many-worded. They knew well all those old story-lays, (and this +partly by the minstrelsy of the Woodlanders,) but they had scant +skill in wizardry, and would send for the Woodlanders, both men and +women, to do whatso they needed therein. They were very hale and +long-lived, whereas they dwelt in clear bright air, and they mostly +went light-clad even in the winter, so strong and merry were they. +They wedded with the Woodlanders and the Dalesmen both; at least +certain houses of them did so. They grew no corn; nought but a few +pot-herbs, but had their meal of the Dalesmen; and in the summer they +drave some of their milch-kine into the Dale for the abundance of +grass there; whereas their own hills and bents and winding valleys +were not plenteously watered, except here and there as in the bottom +under Greenbury. No swine they had, and but few horses, but of sheep +very many, and of the best both for their flesh and their wool. Yet +were they nought so deft craftsmen at the loom as were the Dalesmen, +and their women were not very eager at the weaving, though they +loathed not the spindle and rock. Shortly, they were merry folk +well-beloved of the Dalesmen, quick to wrath, though it abode not +long with them; not very curious in their houses and halls, which +were but little, and were decked mostly with the handiwork of the +Woodland-Carles their guests; who when they were abiding with them, +would oft stand long hours nose to beam, scoring and nicking and +hammering, answering no word spoken to them but with aye or no, +desiring nought save the endurance of the daylight. Moreover, this +shepherd-folk heeded not gay raiment over-much, but commonly went +clad in white woollen or sheep-brown weed. + +But beyond this shepherd-folk were more downs and more, scantily +peopled, and that after a while by folk with whom they had no kinship +or affinity, and who were at whiles their foes. Yet was there no +enduring enmity between them; and ever after war and battle came +peace; and all blood-wites were duly paid and no long feud followed: +nor were the Dalesmen and the Woodlanders always in these wars, +though at whiles they were. Thus then it fared with these people. + +But now that we have told of the folks with whom the Dalesmen had +kinship, affinity, and friendship, tell we of their chief abode, +Burgstead to wit, and of its fashion. As hath been told, it lay upon +the land made nigh into an isle by the folds of the Weltering Water +towards the uppermost end of the Dale; and it was warded by the deep +water, and by the wall aforesaid with its towers. Now the Dale at +its widest, to wit where Wildlake fell into it, was but nine furlongs +over, but at Burgstead it was far narrower; so that betwixt the wall +and the wandering stream there was but a space of fifty acres, and +therein lay Burgstead in a space of the shape of a sword-pommel: and +the houses of the kinships lay about it, amidst of gardens and +orchards, but little ordered into streets and lanes, save that a way +went clean through everything from the tower-warded gate to the +bridge over the Water, which was warded by two other towers on its +hither side. + +As to the houses, they were some bigger, some smaller, as the +housemates needed. Some were old, but not very old, save two only, +and some quite new, but of these there were not many: they were all +built fairly of stone and lime, with much fair and curious carved +work of knots and beasts and men round about the doors; or whiles a +wale of such-like work all along the house-front. For as deft as +were the Woodlanders with knife and gouge on the oaken beams, even so +deft were the Dalesmen with mallet and chisel on the face of the hewn +stone; and this was a great pastime about the Thorp. Within these +houses had but a hall and solar, with shut-beds out from the hall on +one side or two, with whatso of kitchen and buttery and out-bower men +deemed handy. Many men dwelt in each house, either kinsfolk, or such +as were joined to the kindred. + +Near to the gate of Burgstead in that street aforesaid and facing +east was the biggest house of the Thorp; it was one of the two +abovesaid which were older than any other. Its door-posts and the +lintel of the door were carved with knots and twining stems fairer +than other houses of that stead; and on the wall beside the door +carved over many stones was an image wrought in the likeness of a man +with a wide face, which was terrible to behold, although it smiled: +he bore a bent bow in his hand with an arrow fitted to its string, +and about the head of him was a ring of rays like the beams of the +sun, and at his feet was a dragon, which had crept, as it were, from +amidst of the blossomed knots of the door-post wherewith the tail of +him was yet entwined. And this head with the ring of rays about it +was wrought into the adornment of that house, both within and +without, in many other places, but on never another house of the +Dale; and it was called the House of the Face. Thereof hath the tale +much to tell hereafter, but as now it goeth on to tell of the ways of +life of the Dalesmen. + +In Burgstead was no Mote-hall or Town-house or Church, such as we wot +of in these days; and their market-place was wheresoever any might +choose to pitch a booth: but for the most part this was done in the +wide street betwixt the gate and the bridge. As to a meeting-place, +were there any small matters between man and man, these would the +Alderman or one of the Wardens deal with, sitting in Court with the +neighbours on the wide space just outside the Gate: but if it were +to do with greater matters, such as great manslayings and blood- +wites, or the making of war or ending of it, or the choosing of the +Alderman and the Wardens, such matters must be put off to the Folk- +mote, which could but be held in the place aforesaid where was the +Doom-ring and the Altar of the Gods; and at that Folk-mote both the +Shepherd-Folk and the Woodland-Carles foregathered with the Dalesmen, +and duly said their say. There also they held their great casts and +made offerings to the Gods for the Fruitfulness of the Year, the +ingathering of the increase, and in Memory of their Forefathers. +Natheless at Yule-tide also they feasted from house to house to be +glad with the rest of Midwinter, and many a cup drank at those feasts +to the memory of the fathers, and the days when the world was wider +to them, and their banners fared far afield. + +But besides these dwellings of men in the field between the wall and +the water, there were homesteads up and down the Dale whereso men +found it easy and pleasant to dwell: their halls were built of much +the same fashion as those within the Thorp; but many had a high +garth-wall cast about them, so that they might make a stout defence +in their own houses if war came into the Dale. + +As to their work afield; in many places the Dale was fair with growth +of trees, and especially were there long groves of sweet chestnut +standing on the grass, of the fruit whereof the folk had much gain. +Also on the south side nigh to the western end was a wood or two of +yew-trees very great and old, whence they gat them bow-staves, for +the Dalesmen also shot well in the bow. Much wheat and rye they +raised in the Dale, and especially at the nether end thereof. Apples +and pears and cherries and plums they had in plenty; of which trees, +some grew about the borders of the acres, some in the gardens of the +Thorp and the homesteads. On the slopes that had grown from the +breaking down here and there of the Northern cliffs, and which faced +the South and the Sun's burning, were rows of goodly vines, whereof +the folk made them enough and to spare of strong wine both white and +red. + +As to their beasts; swine they had a many, but not many sheep, since +herein they trusted to their trucking with their friends the +Shepherds; they had horses, and yet but a few, for they were stout in +going afoot; and, had they a journey to make with women big with +babes, or with children or outworn elders, they would yoke their oxen +to their wains, and go fair and softly whither they would. But the +said oxen and all their neat were exceeding big and fair, far other +than the little beasts of the Shepherd-Folk; they were either dun of +colour, or white with black horns (and those very great) and black +tail-tufts and ear-tips. Asses they had, and mules for the paths of +the mountains to the east; geese and hens enough, and dogs not a few, +great hounds stronger than wolves, sharp-nosed, long-jawed, dun of +colour, shag-haired. + +As to their wares; they were very deft weavers of wool and flax, and +made a shift to dye the thrums in fair colours; since both woad and +madder came to them good cheap by means of the merchants of the plain +country, and of greening weeds was abundance at hand. Good smiths +they were in all the metals: they washed somewhat of gold out of the +sands of the Weltering Water, and copper and tin they fetched from +the rocks of the eastern mountains; but of silver they saw little, +and iron they must buy of the merchants of the plain, who came to +them twice in the year, to wit in the spring and the late autumn just +before the snows. Their wares they bought with wool spun and in the +fleece, and fine cloth, and skins of wine and young neat both steers +and heifers, and wrought copper bowls, and gold and copper by weight, +for they had no stamped money. And they guested these merchants +well, for they loved them, because of the tales they told them of the +Plain and its cities, and the manslayings therein, and the fall of +Kings and Dukes, and the uprising of Captains. + +Thus then lived this folk in much plenty and ease of life, though not +delicately nor desiring things out of measure. They wrought with +their hands and wearied themselves; and they rested from their toil +and feasted and were merry: to-morrow was not a burden to them, nor +yesterday a thing which they would fain forget: life shamed them +not, nor did death make them afraid. + +As for the Dale wherein they dwelt, it was indeed most fair and +lovely, and they deemed it the Blessing of the Earth, and they trod +its flowery grass beside its rippled streams amidst its green tree- +boughs proudly and joyfully with goodly bodies and merry hearts. + + + +CHAPTER II. OF FACE-OF-GOD AND HIS KINDRED + + + +Tells the tale, that on an evening of late autumn when the weather +was fair, calm, and sunny, there came a man out of the wood hard by +the Mote-stead aforesaid, who sat him down at the roots of the +Speech-mound, casting down before him a roe-buck which he had just +slain in the wood. He was a young man of three and twenty summers; +he was so clad that he had on him a sheep-brown kirtle and leggings +of like stuff bound about with white leather thongs; he bore a short- +sword in his girdle and a little axe withal; the sword with fair +wrought gilded hilts and a dew-shoe of like fashion to its sheath. +He had his quiver at his back and bare in his hand his bow unstrung. +He was tall and strong, very fair of fashion both of limbs and face, +white-skinned, but for the sun's tanning, and ruddy-cheeked: his +beard was little and fine, his hair yellow and curling, cut somewhat +close, but for its length so plenteous, and so thick, that none could +fail to note it. He had no hat nor hood upon his head, nought but a +fillet of golden beads. + +As he sat down he glanced at the dale below him with a well-pleased +look, and then cast his eyes down to the grass at his feet, as though +to hold a little longer all unchanged the image of the fair place he +had just seen. The sun was low in the heavens, and his slant beams +fell yellow all up the dale, gilding the chestnut groves grown dusk +and grey with autumn, and the black masses of the elm-boughs, and +gleaming back here and there from the pools of the Weltering Water. +Down in the midmost meadows the long-horned dun kine were moving +slowly as they fed along the edges of the stream, and a dog was +bounding about with exceeding swiftness here and there among them. +At a sharply curved bight of the river the man could see a little +vermilion flame flickering about, and above it a thin blue veil of +smoke hanging in the air, and clinging to the boughs of the willows +anear; about it were a dozen menfolk clear to see, some sitting, some +standing, some walking to and fro, but all in company together: four +of were brown-clad and short-skirted like himself, and from above the +hand of one came a flash of light as the sun smote upon the steel of +his spear. The others were long-skirted and clad gayer, and amongst +them were red and blue and green and white garments, and they were +clear to be seen for women. Just as the young man looked up again, +those of them who were sitting down rose up, and those that were +strolling drew nigh, and they joined hands together, and fell to +dancing on the grass, and the dog and another one with him came up to +the dancers and raced about and betwixt them; and so clear to see +were they all and so little, being far away, that they looked like +dainty well-wrought puppets. + +The young man sat smiling at it for a little, and then rose up and +shouldered his venison, and went down into Wildlake's Way, and +presently was fairly in the Dale and striding along the Portway +beside the northern cliffs, whose greyness was gilded yet by the last +rays of the sun, though in a minute or two it would go under the +western rim. He went fast and cheerily, murmuring to himself +snatches of old songs; none overtook him on the road, but he overtook +divers folk going alone or in company toward Burgstead; swains and +old men, mothers and maidens coming from the field and the acre, or +going from house to house; and one or two he met but not many. All +these greeted him kindly, and he them again; but he stayed not to +speak with any, but went as one in haste. + +It was dusk by then he passed under the gate of Burgstead; he went +straight thence to the door of the House of the Face, and entered as +one who is at home, and need go no further, nor abide a bidding. + +The hall he came into straight out of the open air was long and +somewhat narrow and not right high; it was well-nigh dark now within, +but since he knew where to look, he could see by the flicker that +leapt up now and then from the smouldering brands of the hearth +amidmost the hall under the luffer, that there were but three men +therein, and belike they were even they whom he looked to find there, +and for their part they looked for his coming, and knew his step. + +He set down his venison on the floor, and cried out in a cheery +voice: 'Ho, Kettel! Are all men gone without doors to sleep so near +the winter-tide, that the Hall is as dark as a cave? Hither to me! +Or art thou also sleeping?' + +A voice came from the further side of the hearth: 'Yea, lord, asleep +I am, and have been, and dreaming; and in my dream I dealt with the +flesh-pots and the cake-board, and thou shalt see my dream come true +presently to thy gain.' + +Quoth another voice: 'Kettel hath had out that share of his dream +already belike, if the saw sayeth sooth about cooks. All ye have +been away, so belike he hath done as Rafe's dog when Rafe ran away +from the slain buck.' + +He laughed therewith, and Kettel with him, and a third voice joined +the laughter. The young man also laughed and said: 'Here I bring +the venison which my kinsman desired; but as ye see I have brought it +over-late: but take it, Kettel. When cometh my father from the +stithy?' + +Quoth Kettel: 'My lord hath been hard at it shaping the Yule-tide +sword, and doth not lightly leave such work, as ye wot, but he will +be here presently, for he has sent to bid us dight for supper +straightway.' + +Said the young man: 'Where are there lords in the dale, Kettel, or +hast thou made some thyself, that thou must be always throwing them +in my teeth?' + +'Son of the Alderman,' said Kettel, 'ye call me Kettel, which is no +name of mine, so why should I not call thee lord, which is no dignity +of thine, since it goes well over my tongue from old use and wont? +But here comes my mate of the kettle, and the women and lads. Sit +down by the hearth away from their hurry, and I will fetch thee the +hand-water.' + +The young man sat down, and Kettel took up the venison and went his +ways toward the door at the lower end of the hall; but ere he reached +it it opened, and a noisy crowd entered of men, women, boys, and +dogs, some bearing great wax candles, some bowls and cups and dishes +and trenchers, and some the boards for the meal. + +The young man sat quiet smiling and winking his eyes at the sudden +flood of light let into the dark place; he took in without looking at +this or the other thing the aspect of his Fathers' House, so long +familiar to him; yet to-night he had a pleasure in it above his wont, +and in all the stir of the household; for the thought of the wood +wherein he had wandered all day yet hung heavy upon him. Came one of +the girls and cast fresh brands on the smouldering fire and stirred +it into a blaze, and the wax candles were set up on the dais, so that +between them and the mew-quickened fire every corner of the hall was +bright. As aforesaid it was long and narrow, over-arched with stone +and not right high, the windows high up under the springing of the +roof-arch and all on the side toward the street; over against them +were the arches of the shut-beds of the housemates. The walls were +bare that evening, but folk were wont to hang up hallings of woven +pictures thereon when feasts and high-days were toward; and all along +the walls were the tenter-hooks for that purpose, and divers weapons +and tools were hanging from them here and there. About the dais +behind the thwart-table were now stuck for adornment leavy boughs of +oak now just beginning to turn with the first frosts. High up on the +gable wall above the tenter-hooks for the hangings were carven fair +imagery and knots and twining stems; for there in the hewn atone was +set forth that same image with the rayed head that was on the outside +wall, and he was smiting the dragon and slaying him; but here inside +the house all this was stained in fair and lively colours, and the +sun-like rays round the head of the image were of beaten gold. At +the lower end of the hall were two doors going into the butteries, +and kitchen, and other out-bowers; and above these doors was a loft +upborne by stone pillars, which loft was the sleeping chamber of the +goodman of the house; but the outward door was halfway between the +said loft and the hearth of the hall. + +So the young man took the shoes from his feet and then sat watching +the women and lads arraying the boards, till Kettel came again to him +with an old woman bearing the ewer and basin, who washed his feet and +poured the water over his hands, and gave him the towel with fair- +broidered ends to dry them withal. + +Scarce had he made an end of this ere through the outer door came in +three men and a young woman with them; the foremost of these was a +man younger by some two years than the first-comer, but so like him +that none might misdoubt that he was his brother; the next was an old +man with a long white beard, but hale and upright; and lastly came a +man of middle-age, who led the young woman by the hand. He was +taller than the first of the young men, though the other who entered +with him outwent him in height; a stark carle he was, broad across +the shoulders, thin in the flank, long-armed and big-handed; very +noble and well-fashioned of countenance, with a straight nose and +grey eyes underneath a broad brow: his hair grown somewhat scanty +was done about with a fillet of golden beads like the young men his +sons. For indeed this was their father, and the master of the House. + +His name was Iron-face, for he was the deftest of weapon-smiths, and +he was the Alderman of the Dalesmen, and well-beloved of them; his +kindred was deemed the noblest of the Dale, and long had they dwelt +in the House of the Face. But of his sons the youngest, the new- +comer, was named Hall-face, and his brother the elder Face-of-god; +which name was of old use amongst the kindred, and many great men and +stout warriors had borne it aforetime: and this young man, in great +love had he been gotten, and in much hope had he been reared, and +therefore had he been named after the best of the kindred. But his +mother, who was hight the Jewel, and had been a very fair woman, was +dead now, and Iron-face lacked a wife. + +Face-of-god was well-beloved of his kindred and of all the Folk of +the Dale, and he had gotten a to-name, and was called Gold-mane +because of the abundance and fairness of his hair. + +As for the young woman that was led in by Iron-face, she was the +betrothed of Face-of-god, and her name was the Bride. She looked +with such eyes of love on him when she saw him in the hall, as though +she had never seen him before but once, nor loved him but since +yesterday; though in truth they had grown up together and had seen +each other most days of the year for many years. She was of the +kindred with whom the chiefs and great men of the Face mostly wedded, +which was indeed far away kindred of them. She was a fair woman and +strong: not easily daunted amidst perils she was hardy and handy and +light-foot: she could swim as well as any, and could shoot well in +the bow, and wield sword and spear: yet was she kind and +compassionate, and of great courtesy, and the very dogs and kine +trusted in her and loved her. Her hair was dark red of hue, long and +fine and plenteous, her eyes great and brown, her brow broad and very +fair, her lips fine and red: her cheek not ruddy, yet nowise sallow, +but clear and bright: tall she was and of excellent fashion, but +well-knit and well-measured rather than slender and wavering as the +willow-bough. Her voice was sweet and soft, her words few, but +exceeding dear to the listener. In short, she was a woman born to be +the ransom of her Folk. + +Now as to the names which the menfolk of the Face bore, and they an +ancient kindred, a kindred of chieftains, it has been said that in +times past their image of the God of the Earth had over his treen +face a mask of beaten gold fashioned to the shape of the image; and +that when the Alderman of the Folk died, he to wit who served the God +and bore on his arm the gold-ring between the people and the altar, +this visor or face of God was laid over the face of him who had been +in a manner his priest, and therewith he was borne to mound; and the +new Alderman and priest had it in charge to fashion a new visor for +the God; and whereas for long this great kindred had been chieftains +of the people, they had been, and were all so named, that the word +Face was ever a part of their names. + + + +CHAPTER III. THEY TALK OF DIVERS MATTERS IN THE HALL + + + +Now Face-of-god, who is also called Gold-mane, rose up to meet the +new-comers, and each of them greeted him kindly, and the Bride kissed +him on the cheek, and he her in likewise; and he looked kindly on +her, and took her hand, and went on up the hall to the dais, +following his father and the old man; as for him, he was of the +kindred of the House, and was foster-father of Iron-face and of his +sons both; and his name was Stone-face: a stark warrior had he been +when he was young, and even now he could do a man's work in the +battlefield, and his understanding was as good as that of a man in +his prime. So went these and four others up on to the dais and sat +down before the thwart-table looking down the hall, for the meat was +now on the board; and of the others there were some fifty men and +women who were deemed to be of the kindred and sat at the endlong +tables. + +So then the Alderman stood up and made the sign of the Hammer over +the meat, the token of his craft and of his God. Then they fell to +with good hearts, for there was enough and to spare of meat and +drink. There was bread and flesh (though not Gold-mane's venison), +and leeks and roasted chestnuts of the grove, and red-cheeked apples +of the garth, and honey enough of that year's gathering, and medlars +sharp and mellow: moreover, good wine of the western bents went up +and down the hall in great gilded copper bowls and in mazers girt and +lipped with gold. + +But when they were full of meat, and had drunken somewhat, they fell +to speech, and Iron-face spake aloud to his son, who had but been +speaking softly to the Bride as one playmate to the other: but the +Alderman said: 'Scarce are the wood-deer grown, kinsman, when I must +needs eat sheep's flesh on a Thursday, though my son has lain abroad +in the woods all night to hunt for me.' + +And therewith he smiled in the young man's face; but Gold-mane +reddened and said: 'So is it, kinsman, I can hit what I can see; but +not what is hidden.' + +Iron-face laughed and said: 'Hast thou been to the Woodland-Carles? +are their women fairer than our cousins?' + +Face-of-god took up the Bride's hand in his and kissed it and laid it +to his cheek; and then turned to his father and said: 'Nay, father, +I saw not the Wood-carles, nor went to their abode; and on no day do +I lust after their women. Moreover, I brought home a roebuck of the +fattest; but I was over-late for Kettel, and the flesh was ready for +the board by then I came.' + +'Well, son,' quoth Iron-face, for he was merry, 'a roebuck is but a +little deer for such big men as are thou and I. But I rede thee take +the Bride along with thee the next time; and she shall seek whilest +thou sleepest, and hit when thou missest.' + +Then Face-of-god smiled, but he frowned somewhat also, and he said: +'Well were that, indeed! But if ye must needs drag a true tale out +of me: that roebuck I shot at the very edge of the wood nigh to the +Mote-stead as I was coming home: harts had I seen in the wood and +its lawns, and boars, and bucks, and loosed not at them: for indeed +when I awoke in the morning in that wood-lawn ye wot of, I wandered +up and down with my bow unbent. So it was that I fared as if I were +seeking something, I know not what, that should fill up something +lacking to me, I know not what. Thus I felt in myself even so long +as I was underneath the black boughs, and there was none beside me +and before me, and none to turn aback to: but when I came out again +into the sunshine, and I saw the fair dale, and the happy abode lying +before me, and folk abroad in the meads merry in the eventide; then +was I full fain of it, and loathed the wood as an empty thing that +had nought to give me; and lo you! all that I had been longing for in +the wood, was it not in this House and ready to my hand?--and that is +good meseemeth.' + +Therewith he drank of the cup which the Bride put into his hand after +she had kissed the rim, but when he had set it down again he spake +once more: + +'And yet now I am sitting honoured and well-beloved in the House of +my Fathers, with the holy hearth sparkling and gleaming down there +before me; and she that shall bear my children sitting soft and kind +by my side, and the bold lads I shall one day lead in battle drinking +out of my very cup: now it seems to me that amidst all this, the +dark cold wood, wherein abide but the beasts and the Foes of the +Gods, is bidding me to it and drawing me thither. Narrow is the Dale +and the World is wide; I would it were dawn and daylight, that I +might be afoot again.' + +And he half rose up from his place. But his father bent his brow on +him and said: 'Kinsman, thou hast a long tongue for a half-trained +whelp: nor see I whitherward thy mind is wandering, but if it be on +the road of a lad's desire to go further and fare worse. Hearken +then, I will offer thee somewhat! Soon shall the West-country +merchants be here with their winter truck. How sayest thou? hast +thou a mind to fare back with them, and look on the Plain and its +Cities, and take and give with the strangers? To whom indeed thou +shalt be nothing save a purse with a few lumps of gold in it, or +maybe a spear in the stranger's band on the stricken field, or a bow +on the wall of an alien city. This is a craft which thou mayst well +learn, since thou shalt be a chieftain; a craft good to learn, +however grievous it be in the learning. And I myself have been +there; for in my youth I desired sore to look on the world beyond the +mountains; so I went, and I filled my belly with the fruit of my own +desires, and a bitter meat was that; but now that it has passed +through me, and I yet alive, belike I am more of a grown man for +having endured its gripe. Even so may it well be with thee, son; so +go if thou wilt; and thou shalt go with my blessing, and with gold +and wares and wain and spearmen.' + +'Nay,' said Face-of-god, 'I thank thee, for it is well offered; but I +will not go, for I have no lust for the Plain and its Cities; I love +the Dale well, and all that is round about it; therein will I live +and die.' + +Therewith he fell a-musing; and the Bride looked at him anxiously, +but spake not. Sooth to say her heart was sinking, as though she +foreboded some new thing, which should thrust itself into their merry +life. + +But the old man Stone-face took up the word and said: + +'Son Gold-mane, it behoveth me to speak, since belike I know the +wild-wood better than most, and have done for these three-score and +ten years; to my cost. Now I perceive that thou longest for the wood +and the innermost of it; and wot ye what? This longing will at +whiles entangle the sons of our chieftains, though this Alderman that +now is hath been free therefrom, which is well for him. For, time +was this longing came over me, and I went whither it led me: +overlong it were to tell of all that befell me because of it, and how +my heart bled thereby. So sorry were the tidings that came of it, +that now meseemeth my heart should be of stone and not my face, had +it not been for the love wherewith I have loved the sons of the +kindred. Therefore, son, it were not ill if ye went west away with +the merchants this winter, and learned the dealings of the cities, +and brought us back tales thereof.' + +But Gold-mane cried out somewhat angrily, 'I tell thee, foster- +father, that I have no mind for the cities and their men and their +fools and their whores and their runagates. But as for the wood and +its wonders, I have done with it, save for hunting there along with +others of the Folk. So let thy mind be at ease; and for the rest, I +will do what the Alderman commandeth, and whatso my father craveth of +me.' + +'And that is well, son,' said Stone-face, 'if what ye say come to +pass, as sore I misdoubt me it will not. But well it were, well it +were! For such things are in the wood, yea and before ye come to its +innermost, as may well try the stoutest heart. Therein are Kobbolds, +and Wights that love not men, things unto whom the grief of men is as +the sound of the fiddle-bow unto us. And there abide the ghosts of +those that may not rest; and there wander the dwarfs and the +mountain-dwellers, the dealers in marvels, the givers of gifts that +destroy Houses; the forgers of the curse that clingeth and the murder +that flitteth to and fro. There moreover are the lairs of Wights in +the shapes of women, that draw a young man's heart out of his body, +and fill up the empty place with desire never to be satisfied, that +they may mock him therewith and waste his manhood and destroy him. +Nor say I much of the strong-thieves that dwell there, since thou art +a valiant sword; or of them who have been made Wolves of the Holy +Places; or of the Murder-Carles, the remnants and off-scourings of +wicked and wretched Folks--men who think as much of the life of a man +as of the life of a fly. Yet happiest is the man whom they shall +tear in pieces, than he who shall live burdened by the curse of the +Foes of the Gods.' + +The housemaster looked on his son as the old carle spake, and a cloud +gathered on his face a while; and when Stone-face had made an end he +spake: + +'This is long and evil talk for the end of a merry day, O fosterer! +Wilt thou not drink a draught, O Redesman, and then stand up and set +thy fiddle-bow a-dancing, and cause it draw some fair words after it? +For my cousin's face hath grown sadder than a young maid's should be, +and my son's eyes gleam with thoughts that are far away from us and +abroad in the wild-wood seeking marvels.' + +Then arose a man of middle-age from the top of the endlong bench on +the east side of the hall: a man tall, thin and scant-haired, with a +nose like an eagle's neb: he reached out his hand for the bowl, and +when they had given to him he handled it, and raised it aloft and +cried: + +'Here I drink a double health to Face-of-god and the Bride, and the +love that lieth between them, and the love betwixt them twain and +us.' + +He drank therewith, and the wine went up and down the hall, and all +men drank, both carles and queens, with shouting and great joy. Then +Redesman put down the cup (for it had come into his hands again), and +reached his hand to the wall behind him, and took down his fiddle +hanging there in its case, and drew it out and fell to tuning it, +while the hall grew silent to hearken: then he handled the bow and +laid it on the strings till they wailed and chuckled sweetly, and +when the song was well awake and stirring briskly, then he lifted up +his voice and sang: + + +The Minstrel saith: + +'O why on this morning, ye maids, are ye tripping + Aloof from the meadows yet fresh with the dew, +Where under the west wind the river is lipping + The fragrance of mint, the white blooms and the blue? + +For rough is the Portway where panting ye wander; + On your feet and your gown-hems the dust lieth dun; +Come trip through the grass and the meadow-sweet yonder, + And forget neath the willows the sword of the sun. + +The Maidens answer: + +Though fair are the moon-daisies down by the river, + And soft is the grass and the white clover sweet; +Though twixt us and the rock-wall the hot glare doth quiver, + And the dust of the wheel-way is dun on our feet; + +Yet here on the way shall we walk on this morning + Though the sun burneth here, and sweet, cool is the mead; +For here when in old days the Burg gave its warning, + Stood stark under weapons the doughty of deed. + +Here came on the aliens their proud words a-crying, + And here on our threshold they stumbled and fell; +Here silent at even the steel-clad were lying, + And here were our mothers the story to tell. + +Here then on the morn of the eve of the wedding + We pray to the Mighty that we too may bear +Such war-walls for warding of orchard and steading, + That the new days be merry as old days were dear.' + + +Therewith he made an end, and shouts and glad cries arose all about +the hall; and an old man arose and cried: 'A cup to the memory of +the Mighty of the Day of the Warding of the Ways.' For you must know +this song told of a custom of the Folk, held in memory of a time of +bygone battle, wherein they had overthrown a great host of aliens on +the Portway betwixt the river and the cliffs, two furlongs from the +gate of Burgstead. So now two weeks before Midsummer those maidens +who were presently to be wedded went early in the morning to that +place clad in very fair raiment, swords girt to their sides and +spears in their hands, and abode there on the highway from morn till +even as though they were a guard to it. And they made merry there, +singing songs and telling tales of times past: and at the sunsetting +their grooms came to fetch them away to the Feast of the Eve of the +Wedding. + +While the song was a-singing Face-of-god took the Bride's hand in his +and caressed it, and was soft and blithe with her; and she reddened +and trembled for pleasure, and called to mind wedding feasts that had +been, and fair brides that she had seen thereat, and she forgot her +fears and her heart was at peace again. + +And Iron-face looked well-pleased on the two from time to time, and +smiled, but forbore words to them. + +But up and down the hall men talked with one another about things +long ago betid: for their hearts were high and they desired deeds; +but in that fair Dale so happy were the years from day to day that +there was but little to tell of. So deepened the night and waned, +and Gold-mane and the Bride still talked sweetly together, and at +whiles kindly to the others; and by seeming he had clean forgotten +the wood and its wonders. + +Then at last the Alderman called for the cup of good-night, and men +drank thereof and went their ways to bed. + + + +CHAPTER IV. FACE-OF-GOD FARETH TO THE WOOD AGAIN + + + +When it was the earliest morning and dawn was but just beginning, +Face-of-god awoke and rose up from his bed, and came forth into the +hall naked in his shirt, and stood by the hearth, wherein the piled- +up embers were yet red, and looked about and could see nothing +stirring in the dimness: then he fetched water and washed the night- +tide off him, and clad himself in haste, and was even as he was +yesterday, save that he left his bow and quiver in their place and +took instead a short casting-spear; moreover he took a leathern scrip +and went therewith to the buttery, and set therein bread and flesh +and a little gilded beaker; and all this he did with but little +noise; for he would not be questioned, lest he should have to answer +himself as well as others. + +Thus he went quietly out of doors, for the door was but latched, +since no bolts or bars or locks were used in Burgstead, and through +the town-gate, which stood open, save when rumours of war were about. +He turned his face straight towards Wildlake's Way, walking briskly, +but at whiles looking back over his shoulder toward the East to note +what way was made by the dawning, and how the sky lightened above the +mountain passes. + +By then he was come to the place where the Maiden Ward was held in +the summer the dawn was so far forward that all things had their due +colours, and were clear to see in the shadowless day. It was a +bright morning, with an easterly air stirring that drave away the +haze and dried the meadows, which had otherwise been rimy; for it was +cold. Gold-mane lingered on the place a little, and his eyes fell on +the road, as dusty yet as in Redesman's song; for the autumn had been +very dry, and the strip of green that edged the outside of the way +was worn and dusty also. On the edge of it, half in the dusty road, +half on the worn grass, was a long twine of briony red-berried and +black-leaved; and right in the midst of the road were two twigs of +great-leaved sturdy pollard oak, as though they had been thrown aside +there yesterday by women or children a-sporting; and the deep white +dust yet held the marks of feet, some bare, some shod, crossing each +other here and there. Face-of-god smiled as he passed on, as a man +with a happy thought; for his mind showed him a picture of the Bride +as she would be leading the Maiden Ward next summer, and singing +first among the singers, and he saw her as clearly as he had often +seen her verily, and before him was the fashion of her hands and all +her body, and the little mark on her right wrist, and the place where +her arm whitened, because the sleeve guarded it against the sun, +which had long been pleasant unto him, and the little hollow in her +chin, and the lock of red-brown hair waving in the wind above her +brow, and shining in the sun as brightly as the Alderman's cunningest +work of golden wire. Soft and sweet seemed that picture, till he +almost seemed to hear her sweet voice calling to him, and desire of +her so took hold of the youth, that it stirred him up to go swiftlier +as he strode on, the day brightening behind him. + +Now was it nigh sunrise, and he began to meet folk on the way, though +not many; since for most their way lay afield, and not towards the +Burg. The first was a Woodlander, tall and gaunt, striding beside +his ass, whose panniers were laden with charcoal. The carle's +daughter, a little maiden of seven winters, riding on the ass's back +betwixt the panniers, and prattling to herself in the cold morning; +for she was pleased with the clear light in the east, and the smooth +wide turf of the meadows, as one who had not often been far from the +shadow of the heavy trees of the wood, and their dark wall round +about the clearing where they dwelt. Face-of-god gave the twain the +sele of the day in merry fashion as he passed them by, and the sober +dark-faced man nodded to him but spake no word, and the child stayed +her prattle to watch him as he went by. + +Then came the sound of the rattle of wheels, and, as he doubled an +angle of the rock-wall, he came upon a wain drawn by four dun kine, +wherein lay a young woman all muffled up against the cold with furs +and cloths; beside the yoke-beasts went her man, a well-knit trim- +faced Dalesman clad bravely in holiday raiment, girt with a goodly +sword, bearing a bright steel helm on his head, in his hand a long +spear with a gay red and white shaft done about with copper bands. +He looked merry and proud of his wain-load, and the woman was smiling +kindly on him from out of her scarlet and fur; but now she turned a +weary happy face on Gold-mane, for they knew him, as did all men of +the Dale. + +So he stopped when they met, for the goodman had already stayed his +slow beasts, and the goodwife had risen a little on her cushions to +greet him, yet slowly and but a little, for she was great with child, +and not far from her time. That knew Gold-mane well, and what was +toward, and why the goodman wore his fine clothes, and why the wain +was decked with oak-boughs and the yoke-beasts with their best gilded +bells and copper-adorned harness. For it was a custom with many of +the kindreds that the goodwife should fare to her father's house to +lie in with her first babe, and the day of her coming home was made a +great feast in the house. So then Face-of-god cried out: 'Hail to +thee, O Warcliff! Shrewd is the wind this morning, and thou dost +well to heed it carefully, this thine orchard, this thy garden, this +thy fair apple-tree! To a good hall thou wendest, and the Wine of +Increase shall be sweet there this even.' + +Then smiled Warcliff all across his face, and the goodwife hung her +head and reddened. Said the goodman: 'Wilt thou not be with us, son +of the Alderman, as surely thy father shall be?' + +'Nay,' said Face-of-god, 'though I were fain of it: my own matters +carry me away.' + +'What matters?' said Warcliff; 'perchance thou art for the cities +this autumn?' + +Face-of-god answered somewhat stiffly: 'Nay, I am not;' and then +more kindly, and smiling, 'All roads lead not down to the Plain, +friend.' + +'What road then farest thou away from us?' said the goodwife. + +'The way of my will,' he answered. + +'And what way is that?' said she; 'take heed, lest I get a longing to +know. For then must thou needs tell me, or deal with the carle there +beside thee.' + +'Nay, goodwife,' said Face-of-god, 'let not that longing take thee; +for on that matter I am even as wise as thou. Now good speed to thee +and to the new-comer!' + +Therewith he went close up to the wain, and reached out his hand to +her, and she gave him hers and he kissed it, and so went his ways +smiling kindly on them. Then the carle cried to his kine, and they +bent down their heads to the yoke; and presently, as he walked on, he +heard the rumble of the wain mingling with the tinkling of their +bells, which in a little while became measured and musical, and +sounded above the creaking of the axles and the rattle of the gear +and the roll of the great wheels over the road: and so it grew +thinner and thinner till it all died away behind him. + +He was now come to where the river turned away from the sheer rock- +wall, which was not so high there as in most other places, as there +had been in old time long screes from the cliff, which had now grown +together, with the waxing of herbs and the washing down of the earth +on to them, and made a steady slope or low hill going down riverward. +Over this the road lifted itself above the level of the meadows, +keeping a little way from the cliffs, while on the other side its +bank was somewhat broken and steep here and there. As Face-of-god +came up to one of these broken places, the sun rose over the eastern +pass, and the meadows grew golden with its long beams. He lingered, +and looked back under his hand, and as he did so heard the voices and +laughter of women coming up from the slope below him, and presently a +young woman came struggling up the broken bank with hand and knee, +and cast herself down on the roadside turf laughing and panting. She +was a long-limbed light-made woman, dark-faced and black-haired: +amidst her laughter she looked up and saw Gold-mane, who had stopped +at once when he saw her; she held out her hands to him, and said +lightly, though her face flushed withal: + +'Come hither, thou, and help the others to climb the bank; for they +are beaten in the race, and now must they do after my will; that was +the forfeit.' + +He went up to her, and took her hands and kissed them, as was the +custom of the Dale, and said: + +'Hail to thee, Long-coat! who be they, and whither away this morning +early?' + +She looked hard at him, and fondly belike, as she answered slowly: +'They be the two maidens of my father's house, whom thou knowest; and +our errand, all three of us, is to Burgstead, the Feast of the Wine +of Increase which shall be drunk this even.' + +As she spake came another woman half up the bank, to whom went Face- +of-god, and, taking her hands, drew her up while she laughed merrily +in his face: he saluted her as he had Long-coat, and then with a +laugh turned about to wait for the third; who came indeed, but after +a little while, for she had abided, hearing their voices. Her also +Gold-mane drew up, and kissed her hands, and she lay on the grass by +Long-coat, but the second maiden stood up beside the young man. She +was white-skinned and golden-haired, a very fair damsel, whereas the +last-comer was but comely, as were well-nigh all the women of the +Dale. + +Said Face-of-god, looking on the three: 'How comes it, maidens, that +ye are but in your kirtles this sharp autumn morning? or where have +ye left your gowns or your cloaks?' + +For indeed they were clad but in close-fitting blue kirtles of fine +wool, embroidered about the hems with gold and coloured threads. + +The last-comer laughed and said: 'What ails thee, Gold-mane, to be +so careful of us, as if thou wert our mother or our nurse? Yet if +thou must needs know, there hang our gowns on the thorn-bush down +yonder; for we have been running a match and a forfeit; to wit, that +she who was last on the highway should go down again and bring them +up all three; and now that is my day's work: but since thou art +here, Alderman's son, thou shalt go down instead of me and fetch them +up.' + +But he laughed merrily and outright, and said: 'That will I not, for +there be but twenty-four hours in the day, and what between eating +and drinking and talking to fair maidens, I have enough to do in +every one of them. Wasteful are ye women, and simple is your +forfeit. Now will I, who am the Alderman's son, give forth a doom, +and will ordain that one of you fetch up the gowns yourselves, and +that Long-coat be the one; for she is the fleetest-footed and ablest +thereto. Will ye take my doom? for later on I shall not be wiser.' + +'Yea,' said the fair woman, 'not because thou art the Alderman's son, +but because thou art the fairest man of the Dale, and mayst bid us +poor souls what thou wilt.' + +Face-of-god reddened at her words, and the speaker and the last-comer +laughed; but Long-coat held her peace: she cast one very sober look +on him, and then ran lightly down the bent; he drew near the edge of +it, and watched her going; for her light-foot slimness was fair to +look on: and he noted that when she was nigh the thorn-bush whereon +hung the bright-broidered gowns, and deemed belike that she was not +seen, she kissed both her hands where he had kissed them erst. + +Thereat he drew aback and turned away shyly, scarce looking at the +other twain, who smiled on him with somewhat jeering looks; but he +bade them farewell and departed speedily; and if they spoke, it was +but softly, for he heard their voices no more. + +He went on under the sunlight which was now gilding the outstanding +stones of the cliffs, and still his mind was set upon the Bride; and +his meeting with the mother of the yet unborn baby, and with the +three women with their freshness and fairness, did somehow turn his +thought the more upon her, since she was the woman who was to be his +amongst all women, for she was far fairer than any one of them; and +through all manner of life and through all kinds of deeds would he be +with her, and know more of her fairness and kindness than any other +could: and him-seemed he could see pictures of her and of him amidst +all these deeds and ways. + +Now he went very swiftly; for he was eager, though he knew not for +what, and he thought but little of the things on which his eyes fell. +He met none else on the road till he was come to Wildlake's Way, +though he saw folk enough down in the meadows; he was soon amidst the +first of the trees, and without making any stay set his face east and +somewhat north, that is, toward the slopes that led to the great +mountains. He said to himself aloud, as he wended the wood: +'Strange! yestereven I thought much of the wood, and I set my mind on +not going thither, and this morning I thought nothing of it, and here +am I amidst its trees, and wending towards its innermost.' + +His way was easy at first, because the wood for a little space was +all of beech, so that there was no undergrowth, and he went lightly +betwixt the tall grey and smooth boles; albeit his heart was nought +so gay as it was in the dale amidst the sunshine. After a while the +beech-wood grew thinner, and at last gave out altogether, and he came +into a space of rough broken ground with nought but a few scrubby +oaks and thorn-bushes growing thereon here and there. The sun was +high in the heavens now, and shone brightly down on the waste, though +there were a few white clouds high up above him. The rabbits +scuttled out of the grass before him; here and there he turned aside +from a stone on which lay coiled an adder sunning itself; now and +again both hart and hind bounded away from before him, or a sounder +of wild swine ran grunting away toward closer covert. But nought did +he see but the common sights and sounds of the woodland; nor did he +look for aught else, for he knew this part of the woodland +indifferent well. + +He held on over this treeless waste for an hour or more, when the +ground began to be less rugged, and he came upon trees again, but +thinly scattered, oak and ash and hornbeam not right great, with +thickets of holly and blackthorn between them. The set of the ground +was still steadily up to the east and north-east, and he followed it +as one who wendeth an assured way. At last before him seemed to rise +a wall of trees and thicket; but when he drew near to it, lo! an +opening in a certain place, and a little path as if men were wont to +thread the tangle of the wood thereby; though hitherto he had noted +no slot of men, nor any sign of them, since he had plunged into the +deep of the beech-wood. He took the path as one who needs must, and +went his ways as it led. In sooth it was well-nigh blind, but he was +a deft woodsman, and by means of it skirted many a close thicket that +had otherwise stayed him. So on he went, and though the boughs were +close enough overhead, and the sun came through but in flecks, he +judged that it was growing towards noon, and he wotted well that he +was growing aweary. For he had been long afoot, and the more part of +the time on a rough way, or breasting a slope which was at whiles +steep enough. + +At last the track led him skirting about an exceeding close thicket +into a small clearing, through which ran a little woodland rill +amidst rushes and dead leaves: there was a low mound near the +eastern side of this wood-lawn, as though there had been once a +dwelling of man there, but no other sign or slot of man was there. + +So Face-of-god made stay in that place, casting himself down beside +the rill to rest him and eat and drink somewhat. Whatever thoughts +had been with him through the wood (and they been many) concerning +his House and his name, and his father, and the journey he might make +to the cities of the Westland, and what was to befall him when he was +wedded, and what war or trouble should be on his hands--all this was +now mingled together and confused by this rest amidst his weariness. +He laid down his scrip, and drew his meat from it and ate what he +would, and dipping his gilded beaker into the brook, drank water +smacking of the damp musty savour of the woodland; and then his head +sank back on a little mound in the short turf, and he fell asleep at +once. A long dream he had in short space; and therein were blent his +thoughts of the morning with the deeds of yesterday; and other +matters long forgotten in his waking hours came back to his slumber +in unordered confusion: all which made up for him pictures clear, +but of little meaning, save that, as oft befalls in dreams, whatever +he was a-doing he felt himself belated. + +When he awoke, smiling at something strange in his gone-by dream, he +looked up to the heavens, thinking to see signs of the even at hand, +for he seemed to have been dreaming so long. The sky was thinly +overcast by now, but by his wonted woodcraft he knew the whereabouts +of the sun, and that it was scant an hour after noon. He sat there +till he was wholly awake, and then drank once more of the woodland +water; and he said to himself, but out loud, for he was fain of the +sound of a man's voice, though it were but his own: + +'What is mine errand hither? Whither wend I? What shall I have done +to-morrow that I have hitherto left undone? Or what manner of man +shall I be then other than I am now?' + +Yet though he said the words he failed to think the thought, or it +left him in a moment of time, and he thought but of the Bride and her +kindness. Yet that abode with him but a moment, and again he saw +himself and those two women on the highway edge, and Long-coat +lingering on the slope below, kissing his kisses on her hands; and he +was sorry that she desired him over-much, for she was a fair woman +and a friendly. But all that also flowed from him at once, and he +had no thought in him but that he also desired something that he +lacked: and this was a burden to him, and he rose up frowning, and +said to himself, 'Am I become a mere sport of dreams, whether I sleep +or wake? I will go backward--or forward, but will think no more.' + +Then he ordered his gear again, and took the path onward and upward +toward the Great Mountains; and the track was even fainter than +before for a while, so that he had to seek his way diligently. + + + +CHAPTER V. FACE-OF-GOD FALLS IN WITH MENFOLK ON THE MOUNTAIN + + + +Now he plodded on steadily, and for a long time the forest changed +but little, and of wild things he saw only a few of those that love +the closest covert. The ground still went up and up, though at +whiles were hollows, and steeper bents out of them again, and the +half-blind path or slot still led past the close thickets and fallen +trees, and he made way without let or hindrance. At last once more +the wood began to thin, and the trees themselves to be smaller and +gnarled and ill-grown: therewithal the day was waning, and the sky +was quite clear again as the afternoon grew into a fair autumn +evening. + +Now the trees failed altogether, and the slope grown steeper was +covered with heather and ling; and looking up, he saw before him +quite near by seeming in the clear even (though indeed they were yet +far away) the snowy peaks flushed with the sinking sun against the +frosty dark-grey eastern sky; and below them the dark rock-mountains, +and below these again, and nigh to him indeed, the fells covered with +pine-woods and looking like a wall to the heaths he trod. + +He stayed a little while and turned his head to look at the way +whereby he had come; but that way a swell of the oak-forest hid +everything but the wood itself, making a wall behind him as the pine- +wood made a wall before. There came across him then a sharp memory +of the boding words which Stone-face had spoken last night, and he +felt as if he were now indeed within the trap. But presently he +laughed and said: 'I am a fool: this comes of being alone in the +dark wood and the dismal waste, after the merry faces of the Dale had +swept away my foolish musings of yesterday and the day before. Lo! +here I stand, a man of the Face, sword and axe by my side; if death +come, it can but come once; and if I fear not death, what shall make +me afraid? The Gods hate me not, and will not hurt me; and they are +not ugly, but beauteous.' + +Therewith he strode on again, and soon came to a place where the +ground sank into a shallow valley and the ling gave place to grass +for a while, and there were tall old pines scattered about, and +betwixt them grey rocks; this he passed through, climbing a steep +bent out of it, and the pines were all about him now, though growing +wide apart, till at last he came to where they thickened into a wood, +not very close, wherethrough he went merrily, singing to himself and +swinging his spear. He was soon through this wood, and came on to a +wide well-grassed wood-lawn, hedged by the wood aforesaid on three +sides, but sloping up slowly toward the black wall of the thicker +pine-wood on the fourth side, and about half a furlong overthwart and +endlong. The sun had set while he was in the last wood, but it was +still broad daylight on the wood-lawn, and as he stood there he was +ware of a house under the pine-wood on the other side, built long and +low, much like the houses of the Woodland-Carles, but rougher +fashioned and of unhewn trees. He gazed on it, and said aloud to +himself as his wont was: + +'Marvellous! here is a dwelling of man, scarce a day's journey from +Burgstead; yet have I never heard tell of it: may happen some of the +Woodland-Carles have built it, and are on some errand of hunting +peltries up in the mountains, or maybe are seeking copper and tin +among the rocks. Well, at least let us go see what manner of men +dwell there, and if they are minded for a guest to-night; for fain +were I of a bed beneath a roof, and of a board with strong meat and +drink on it.' + +Therewith he set forward, not heeding much that the wood he had +passed through was hard on his left hand; but he had gone but twenty +paces when he saw a red thing at the edge of the wood, and then a +glitter, and a spear came whistling forth, and smote his own spear so +hard close to the steel that it flew out of his hand; then came a +great shout, and a man clad in a scarlet kirtle ran forth on him. +Face-of-god had his axe in his hand in a twinkling, and ran at once +to meet his foe; but the man had the hill on his side as he rushed on +with a short-sword in his hand. Axe and sword clashed together for a +moment of time, and then both the men rolled over on the grass +together, and Face-of-god as he fell deemed that he heard the shrill +cry of a woman. Now Face-of-god found that he was the nethermost, +for if he was strong, yet was his foe stronger; the axe had flown out +of his hand also, while the strange man still kept a hold of his +short-sword; and presently, though he still struggled all he could, +he saw the man draw back his hand to smite with the said sword; and +at that nick of time the foeman's knee was on his breast, his left +hand was doubled back behind him, and his right wrist was gripped +hard in the stranger's left hand. Even therewith his ears, sharpened +by the coming death, heard the sound of footsteps and fluttering +raiment drawing near; something dark came between him and the sky; +there was the sound of a great stroke, and the big man loosened his +grip and fell off him to one side. + +Face-of-god leapt up and ran to his axe and got hold of it; but +turning round found himself face to face with a tall woman holding in +her hand a stout staff like the limb of a tree. She was calm and +smiling, though forsooth it was she who had stricken the stroke and +stayed the sword from his throat. His hand and axe dropped down to +his side when he saw what it was that faced him, and that the woman +was young and fair; so he spake to her and said: + +'What aileth, maiden? is this man thy foe? doth he oppress thee? +shall I slay him?' + +She laughed and said: 'Thou art open-handed in thy proffers: he +might have asked the like concerning thee but a minute ago.' + +'Yea, yea,' said Gold-mane, laughing also, 'but he asked it not of +thee.' + +'That is sooth,' she said, 'but since thou hast asked me, I will tell +thee that if thou slay him it will be my harm as well as his; and in +my country a man that taketh a gift is not wont to break the giver's +head with it straightway. The man is my brother, O stranger, and +presently, if thou wilt, thou mayst be eating at the same board with +him. Or if thou wilt, thou mayst go thy ways unhurt into the wood. +But I had liefer of the twain that thou wert in our house to-night; +for thou hast a wrong against us.' + +Her voice was sweet and clear, and she spake the last words kindly, +and drew somewhat nigher to Gold-mane. Therewithal the smitten man +sat up, and put his hand to his head, and quoth he: + +'Angry is my sister! good it is to wear the helm abroad when she +shaketh the nut-trees.' + +' Nay,' said she, 'it is thy luck that thou wert bare-headed, else +had I been forced to smite thee on the face. Thou churl, since when +hath it been our wont to thrust knives into a guest, who is come of +great kin, a man of gentle heart and fair face? Come hither and +handsel him self-doom for thy fool's onset!' + +The man rose to his feet and said: 'Well, sister, least said, +soonest mended. A clout on the head is worse than a woman's chiding; +but since ye have given me one, ye may forbear the other.' + +Therewith he drew near to them. He was a very big-made man, most +stalwarth, with dark red hair and a thin pointed beard; his nose was +straight and fine, his eyes grey and well-opened, but somewhat fierce +withal. Yet was he in nowise evil-looking; he seemed some thirty +summers old. He was clad in a short scarlet kirtle, a goodly +garment, with a hood of like web pulled off his head on to his +shoulders: he bore a great gold ring on his left arm, and a collar +of gold came down on to his breast from under his hood. + +As for the woman, she was clad in a long white linen smock, and over +it a short gown of dark blue woollen, and she had skin shoes on her +feet. + +Now the man came up to Face-of-god, and took his hand and said: 'I +deemed thee a foe, and I may not have over-many foes alive: but it +seems that thou art to be a friend, and that is well and better; so +herewith I handsel thee self-doom in the matter of the onslaught.' + +Then Face-of-god laughed and said: 'The doom is soon given forth; +against the tumble on the grass I set the clout on the head; there is +nought left over to pay to any man's son.' + +Said the scarlet-clad man: 'Belike by thine eyes thou art a true +man, and wilt not bewray me. Now is there no foeman here, but rather +maybe a friend both now and in time to come.' Therewith he cast his +arms about Face-of-god and kissed him. But Face-of-god turned about +to the woman and said: 'Is the peace wholly made?' + +She shook her head and said soberly: 'Nay, thou art too fair for a +woman to kiss.' + +He flushed red, as his wont was when a woman praised him; yet was his +heart full of pleasure and well-liking. But she laid her hand on his +shoulder and said: 'Now is it for thee to choose betwixt the wild- +wood and the hall, and whether thou wilt be a guest or a wayfarer +this night.' + +As she touched him there took hold of him a sweetness of pleasure he +had never felt erst, and he answered: 'I will be thy guest and not +thy stranger.' + +'Come then,' she said, and took his hand in hers, so that he scarce +felt the earth under his feet, as they went all three together toward +the house in the gathering dusk, while eastward where the peaks of +the great mountains dipped was a light that told of the rising of the +moon. + + + +CHAPTER VI. OF FACE-OF-GOD AND THOSE MOUNTAIN-DWELLERS + + + +A yard or two from the threshold Gold-mane hung back a moment, +entangled in some such misgiving as a man is wont to feel when he is +just about to do some new deed, but is not yet deep in the story; his +new friends noted that, for they smiled each in their own way, and +the woman drew her hand away from his. Face-of-god held out his +still as though to take hers again, and therewithal he changed +countenance and said as though he had stayed but to ask that +question: + +'Tell me thy name, tall man; and thou, fair woman, tell me thine; for +how can we talk together else?' + +The man laughed outright and said: 'The young chieftain thinks that +this house also should be his! Nay, young man, I know what is in thy +thought, be not ashamed that thou art wary; and be assured! We shall +hurt thee no more than thou hast been hurt. Now as to my name; the +name that was born with me is gone: the name that was given me hath +been taken from me: now I belike must give myself a name, and that +shall be Wild-wearer; but it may be that thou thyself shalt one day +give me another, and call me Guest.' + +His sister gazed at him solemnly as he spoke, and Face-of-god +beholding her the while, deemed that her beauty grew and grew till +she seemed as aweful as a Goddess; and into his mind it came that +this over-strong man and over-lovely woman were nought mortal, and +they withal dealing with him as father and mother deal with a wayward +child: then for a moment his heart failed him, and he longed for the +peace of Burgdale, and even the lonely wood. But therewith she +turned to him and let her hand come into his again, and looked kindly +on him and said: 'And as for me, call me the Friend; the name is +good and will serve for many things.' + +He looked down from her face and his eyes lighted on her hand, and +when he noted even amid the evening dusk how fair and lovely it was +fashioned, and yet as though it were deft in the crafts that the +daughters of menfolk use, his fear departed, and the pleasure of his +longing filled his heart, and he drew her hand to him to kiss it; but +she held it back. Then he said: 'It is the custom of the Dale to +all women.' + +So she let him kiss her hand, heeding the kiss nothing, and said +soberly: + +'Then art thou of Burgdale, and if it were lawful to guess, I would +say that thy name is Face-of-god, of the House of the Face.' + +'Even so it is,' said he, 'but in the Dale those that love me do +mostly call me Gold-mane.' + +'It is well named,' she said, 'and seldom wilt thou be called +otherwise, for thou wilt be well-beloved. But come in now, Gold- +mane, for night is at hand, and here have we meat and lodging such as +an hungry and weary man may take; though we be broken people, +dwellers in the waste.' + +Therewith she led him gently over the threshold into the hall, and it +seemed to him as if she were the fairest and the noblest of all the +Queens of ancient story. + +When he was in the house he looked and saw that, rough as it was +without it lacked not fairness within. The floor was of hard-trodden +earth strewn with pine-twigs, and with here and there brown bearskins +laid on it: there was a standing table near the upper end athwart +the hall, and a days beyond that, but no endlong table. Gold-mane +looked to the shut-beds, and saw that they were large and fair, +though there were but a few of them; and at the lower end was a loft +for a sleeping chamber dight very fairly with broidered cloths. The +hangings on the walls, though they left some places bare which were +hung with fresh boughs, were fairer than any he had ever seen, so +that he deemed that they must come from far countries and the City of +Cities: therein were images wrought of warriors and fair women of +old time and their dealings with the Gods and the Giants, and +Wondrous wights; and he deemed that this was the story of some great +kindred, and that their token and the sign of their banner must needs +be the Wood-wolf, for everywhere was it wrought in these pictured +webs. Perforce he looked long and earnestly at these fair things, +for the hall was not dark yet, because the brands on the hearth were +flaming their last, and when Wild-wearer beheld him so gazing, he +stood up and looked too for a moment, and then smote his right hand +on the hilt of his sword, and turned away and strode up and down the +hall as one in angry thought. + +But the woman, even the Friend, bestirred herself for the service of +the guest, and brought water for his hands and feet, and when she had +washed him, bore him the wine of Welcome and drank to him and bade +him drink; and he all the while was shamefaced; for it was to him as +if one of the Ladies of the Heavenly Burg were doing him service. +Then she went away by a door at the lower end of the hall, and Wild- +wearer came and sat down by Gold-mane, and fell a-talking with him +about the ways of the Dalesmen, and their garths, and the pastures +and growths thereof; and what temper the carles themselves were of; +which were good men, which were ill, which was loved and which +scorned; no otherwise than if he had been the goodman of some +neighbouring dale; and Gold-mane told him whatso he knew, for he saw +no harm therein. + +After a while the outer door opened, and there came in a woman of +some five-and-twenty winters, trimly and strongly built; short- +skirted she was and clad as a hunter, with a bow in her hand and a +quiver at her back: she unslung a pouch, which she emptied at Wild- +wearer's feet of a leash of hares and two brace of mountain grouse; +of Face-of-god she took but little heed. + +Said Wild-wearer: 'This is good for to-morrow, not for to-day; the +meat is well-nigh on the board.' + +Then Gold-mane smiled, for he called to mind his home-coming of +yesterday. But the woman said: + +'The fault is not mine; she told me of the coming guest but three +hours agone.' + +'Ay?' said Wild-wearer, 'she looked for a guest then?' + +'Yea, certes,' said the woman, 'else why went I forth this afternoon, +as wearied as I was with yesterday?' + +'Well, well,' said Wild-wearer, 'get to thy due work or go play; I +meddle not with meat! and for thee all jests are as bitter earnest.' + +'And with thee, chief,' she said, 'it is no otherwise; surely I am +made on thy model.' + +'Thy tongue is longer, friend,' said he; 'now tarry if thou wilt, and +if the supper's service craveth thee not.' + +She turned away with one keen look at Face-of-god, and departed +through the door at the lower end of the hall. + +By this time the hall was dusk, for there were no candles there, and +the hearth-fire was but smouldering. Wild-wearer sat silent and +musing now, and Face-of-god spake not, for he was deep in wild and +happy dreams. At last the lower door opened and the fair woman came +into the hall with a torch in either hand, after whom came the +huntress, now clad in a dark blue kirtle, and an old woman yet +straight and hale; and these twain bore in the victuals and the +table-gear. Then the three fell to dighting the board, and when it +was all ready, and Gold-mane and Wild-wearer were set down to it, and +with them the fair woman and the huntress, the old woman threw good +store of fresh brands on the hearth, so that the light shone into +every corner; and even therewith the outer door opened, and four more +men entered, whereof one was old, but big and stalwarth, the other +three young: they were all clad roughly in sheep-brown weed, but had +helms upon their heads and spears in their hands and great swords +girt to their sides; and they seemed doughty men and ready for +battle. One of the young men cast down by the door the carcass of a +big-horned mountain sheep, and then they all trooped off to the out- +bower by the lower door, and came back presently fairly clad and +without their weapons. Wild-wearer nodded to them kindly, and they +sat at table paying no more heed to Face-of-god than to cast him a +nod for salutation. + +Then said the old woman to them: 'Well, lads, have ye been doing or +sleeping?' + +'Sleeping, mother,' said one of the young men, 'as was but due after +last night was, and to-morrow shall be.' + +Said the huntress: 'Hold thy peace, Wood-wise, and let thy tongue +help thy teeth to deal with thy meat; for this is not the talking +hour.' + +'Nay, Bow-may,' said another of the swains, 'since here is a new man, +now is the time to talk to him.' + +Said the huntress: ''Tis thine hands that talk best, Wood-wont; it +is not they that shall bring thee to shame.' + +Spake the third: 'What have we to do with shame here, far away from +dooms and doomers, and elders, and wardens, and guarded castles? If +the new man listeth to speak, let him speak; or to fight, then let +him; it shall ever be man to man.' + +Then spake the old woman: 'Son Wood-wicked, hold thy peace, and +forget the steel that ever eggeth thee on to draw.' + +Therewith she set the last matters on the board, while the three +swains sat and eyed Gold-mane somewhat fiercely, now that words had +stirred them, and he had sat there saying nothing, as one who was +better than they, and contemned them; but now spake Wild-wearer: + +'Whoso hungreth let him eat! Whoso would slumber, let him to bed. +But he who would bicker, it must needs be with me. Here is a man of +the Dale, who hath sought the wood in peace, and hath found us. His +hand is ready and his heart is guileless: if ye fear him, run away +to the wood, and come back when he is gone; but none shall mock him +while I sit by: now, lads, be merry and blithe with the guest.' + +Then the young men greeted Gold-mane, and the old man said: 'Art +thou of Burgstead? then wilt thou be of the House of the Face, and +thy name will be Face-of-god; for that man is called the fairest of +the Dale, and there shall be none fairer than thou.' + +Face-of-god laughed and said: 'There be but few mirrors in Burgdale, +and I have no mind to journey west to the cities to see what manner +of man I be: that were ill husbandry. But now I have heard the +names of the three swains, tell me thy name, father!' + +Spake the huntress: 'This is my father's brother, and his name is +Wood-father; or ye shall call him so: and I am called Bow-may +because I shoot well in the bow: and this old carline is my eme's +wife, and now belike my mother, if I need one. But thou, fair-faced +Dalesman, little dost thou need a mirror in the Dale so long as women +abide there; for their faces shall be instead of mirrors to tell thee +whether thou be fair and lovely.' + +Thereat they all laughed and fell to their victual, which was +abundant, of wood-venison and mountain-fowl, but of bread was no +great plenty; wine lacked not, and that of the best; and Gold-mane +noted that the cups and the apparel of the horns and mazers were not +of gold nor gilded copper, but of silver; and he marvelled thereat, +for in the Dale silver was rare. + +So they ate and drank, and Gold-mane looked ever on the Friend, and +spake much with her, and he deemed her friendly indeed, and she +seemed most pleased when he spoke best, and led him on to do so. +Wild-wearer was but of few words, and those somewhat harsh; yet was +he as a man striving to be courteous and blithe; but of the others +Bow-may was the greatest speaker. + +Wild-wearer called healths to the Sun, and the Moon, and the Hosts of +Heaven; to the Gods of the Earth; to the Woodwights; and to the +Guest. Other healths also he called, the meaning of which was dark +to Gold-mane; to wit, the Jaws of the Wolf; the Silver Arm; the Red +Hand; the Golden Bushel; and the Ragged Sword. But when he asked the +Friend concerning these names what they might signify, she shook her +head and answered not. + +At last Wild-wearer cried out: 'Now, lads, the night weareth and the +guest is weary: therefore whoso of you hath in him any minstrelsy, +now let him make it, for later on it shall be over-late.' + +Then arose Wood-wont and went to his shut-bed and groped therein, and +took from out of it a fiddle in its case; and he opened the case and +drew from it a very goodly fiddle, and he stood on the floor amidst +of the hall and Bow-may his cousin with him; and he laid his bow on +the fiddle and woke up song in it, and when it was well awake she +fell a-singing, and he to answering her song, and at the last all +they of the house sang together; and this is the meaning of the words +which they sang: + + +She singeth. + +Now is the rain upon the day, + And every water's wide; +Why busk ye then to wear the way, + And whither will ye ride? + +He singeth. + +Our kine are on the eyot still, + The eddies lap them round; +All dykes the wind-worn waters fill, + And waneth grass and ground. + +She singeth. + +O ride ye to the river's brim + In war-weed fair to see? +Or winter waters will ye swim + In hauberks to the knee? + +He singeth. + +Wild is the day, and dim with rain, + Our sheep are warded ill; +The wood-wolves gather for the plain, + Their ravening maws to fill. + +She singeth. + +Nay, what is this, and what have ye, + A hunter's band, to bear +The Banner of our Battle-glee + The skulking wolves to scare? + +He singeth. + +O women, when we wend our ways + To deal with death and dread, +The Banner of our Fathers' Days + Must flap the wind o'erhead. + +She singeth. + +Ah, for the maidens that ye leave! + Who now shall save the hay? +What grooms shall kiss our lips at eve, + When June hath mastered May? + +He singeth. + +The wheat is won, the seed is sown, + Here toileth many a maid, +And ere the hay knee-deep hath grown + Your grooms the grass shall wade. + +They sing all together. + +Then fair befall the mountain-side + Whereon the play shall be! +And fair befall the summer-tide + That whoso lives shall see. + + +Face-of-god thought the song goodly, but to the others it was well +known. Then said Wood-father: + +'O foster-son, thy foster-brother hath sung well for a wood abider; +but we are deeming that his singing shall be but as a starling to a +throstle matched against thy new-come guest. Therefore, Dalesman, +sing us a song of the Dale, and if ye will, let it be of gardens and +pleasant houses of stone, and fair damsels therein, and swains with +them who toil not over-much for a scant livelihood, as do they of the +waste, whose heads may not be seen in the Holy Places.' + +Said Gold-mane: 'Father, it is ill to set the words of a lonely man +afar from his kin against the song that cometh from the heart of a +noble house; yet may I not gainsay thee, but will sing to thee what I +may call to mind, and it is called the Song of the Ford.' + +Therewith he sang in a sweet and clear voice: and this is the +meaning of his words: + + +In hay-tide, through the day new-born, + Across the meads we come; +Our hauberks brush the blossomed corn + A furlong short of home. + +Ere yet the gables we behold + Forth flasheth the red sun, +And smites our fallow helms and cold + Though all the fight be done. + +In this last mend of mowing-grass + Sweet doth the clover smell, +Crushed neath our feet red with the pass + Where hell was blent with hell. + +And now the willowy stream is nigh, + Down wend we to the ford; +No shafts across its fishes fly, + Nor flasheth there a sword. + +But lo! what gleameth on the bank + Across the water wan, +As when our blood the mouse-ear drank + And red the river ran? + +Nay, hasten to the ripple clear, + Look at the grass beyond! +Lo ye the dainty band and dear + Of maidens fair and fond! + +Lo how they needs must take the stream! + The water hides their feet; +On fair kind arms the gold doth gleam, + And midst the ford we meet. + +Up through the garden two and two, + And on the flowers we drip; +Their wet feet kiss the morning dew + As lip lies close to lip. + +Here now we sing; here now we stay: + By these grey walls we tell +The love that lived from out the fray, + The love that fought and fell. + + +When he was done they all said that he had sung well, and that the +song was sweet. Yet did Wild-wearer smile somewhat; and Bow-may said +outright: 'Soft is the song, and hath been made by lads and +minstrels rather than by warriors.' + +'Nay, kinswoman,' said Wood-father, 'thou art hard to please; the +guest is kind, and hath given us that I asked for, and I give him all +thanks therefor.' + +Face-of-god smiled, but he heeded little what they said, for as he +sang he had noted that the Friend looked kindly on him; and he +thought he saw that once or twice she put out her hand as if to touch +him, but drew it back again each time. She spake after a little and +said: + +'Here now hath been a stream of song running betwixt the Mountain and +the Dale even as doth a river; and this is good to come between our +dreams of what hath been and what shall be.' Then she turned to +Gold-mane, and said to him scarce loud enough for all to hear: + +'Herewith I bid thee good-night, O Dalesman; and this other word I +have to thee: heed not what befalleth in the night, but sleep thy +best, for nought shall be to thy scathe. And when thou wakest in the +morning, if we are yet here, it is well; but if we are not, then +abide us no long while, but break thy fast on the victual thou wilt +find upon the board, and so depart and go thy ways home. And yet +thou mayst look to it to see us again before thou diest.' + +Therewith she held out her hand to him, and he took it and kissed it; +and she went to her chamber-aloft at the lower end of the hall. And +when she was gone, once more he had a deeming of her that she was of +the kindred of the Gods. At her departure him-seemed that the hall +grew dull and small and smoky, and the night seemed long to him and +doubtful the coming of the day. + + + +CHAPTER VII. FACE-OF-GOD TALKETH WITH THE FRIEND ON THE MOUNTAIN + + + +So now went all men to bed; and Face-to-god's shut-bed was over +against the outer door and toward the lower end of the hall, and on +the panel about it hung the weapons and shields of men. Fair was +that chamber and roomy, and the man was weary despite his eagerness, +so that he went to sleep as soon as his head touched the pillow; but +within a while (he deemed about two hours after midnight) he was +awaked by the clattering of the weapons against the panel, and the +sound of men's hands taking them down; and when he was fully awake, +he heard withal men going up and down the house as if on errands: +but he called to mind what the Friend had said to him, and he did not +so much as turn himself toward the hall; for he said: 'Belike these +men are outlaws and Wolves of the Holy Places, yet by seeming they +are good fellows and nought churlish, nor have I to do with taking up +the feud against them. I will abide the morning. Yet meseemeth that +she drew me hither: for what cause?' + +Therewith he fell asleep again, and dreamed no more. But when he +awoke the sun was shining broad upon the hall-floor, and he sat up +and listened, but could hear no sound save the moaning of the wind in +the pine-boughs and the chatter of the starlings about the gables of +the house; and the place seemed so exceeding lonely to him that he +was in a manner feared by that loneliness. + +Then he arose and clad himself, and went forth into the hall and +gazed about him, and at first he deemed indeed that there was no one +therein. But at last he looked and beheld the upper gable and there +underneath a most goodly hanging was the glorious shape of a woman +sitting on a bench covered over with a cloth of gold and silver; and +he looked and looked to see if the woman might stir, and if she were +alive, and she turned her head toward him, and lo it was the Friend; +and his heart rose to his mouth for wonder and fear and desire. For +now he doubted whether the other folk were aught save shows and +shadows, and she the Goddess who had fashioned them out of nothing +for his bewilderment, presently to return to nothing. + +Yet whatever he might fear or doubt, he went up the hall towards her +till he was quite nigh to her, and there he stood silent, wondering +at her beauty and desiring her kindness. + +Grey-eyed she was like her brother; but her hair the colour of red +wheat: her lips full and red, her chin round, her nose fine and +straight. Her hands and all her body fashioned exceeding sweetly and +delicately; yet not as if she were an image of which the like might +be found if the craftsman were but deft enough to make a perfect +thing, but in such a way that there was none like to her for those +that had eyes to behold her as she was; and none could ever be made +like to her, even by such a master-craftsman as could fashion a body +without a blemish. + +She was clad in a white smock, whose hems were broidered with gold +wire and precious gems of the Mountains, and over that a gown woven +of gold and silver: scarce hath the world such another. On her head +was a fillet of gold and gems, and there were wondrous gold rings on +her arms: her feet lay bare on the dark grey wolf-skin that was +stretched before her. + +She smiled kindly upon his solemn and troubled face, and her voice +sounded strangely familiar to him coming from all that loveliness, as +she said: 'Hail, Face-of-god! here am I left alone, although I +deemed last night that I should be gone with the others. Therefore +am I fain to show myself to thee in fairer array than yesternight; +for though we dwell in the wild-wood, from the solace of folk, yet +are we not of thralls' blood. But come now, I bid thee break thy +fast and talk with me a little while; and then shalt thou depart in +peace.' + +Spake Face-of-god, and his voice trembled as he spake: 'What art +thou? Last night I deemed at whiles once and again that thou wert of +the Gods; and now that I behold thee thus, and it is broad daylight, +and of those others is no more to be seen than if they had never +lived, I cannot but deem that it is even so, and that thou comest +from the City that shall never perish. Now if thou be a goddess, I +have nought to pray thee, save to slay me speedily if thou hast a +mind for my death. But if thou art a woman--' + +She broke in: 'Gold-mane, stay thy prayer and hold thy peace for +this time, lest thou repent when repentance availeth not. And this I +say because I am none of the Gods nor akin to them, save far off +through the generations, as art thou also, and all men of goodly +kindred. Now I bid thee eat thy meat, since 'tis ill talking betwixt +a full man and a fasting; and I have dight it myself with mine own +hands; for Bow-may and the Wood-mother went away with the rest three +hours before dawn. Come sit and eat as thou hast a hardy heart; as +forsooth thou shouldest do if I were a very goddess. Take heed, +friend, lest I take thee for some damsel of the lower Dale arrayed in +Earl's garments.' + +She laughed therewith, and leaned toward him and put forth her hand +to him, and he took it and caressed it; and the exceeding beauty of +her body and of the raiment which was as it were a part of her and +her loveliness, made her laughter and her friendly words strange to +him, as if one did not belong to the other; as in a dream it might +be. Nevertheless he did as she bade him, and sat at the board and +ate, while she leaned forward on the arm of her chair and spake to +him in friendly wise. And he wondered as she spake that she knew so +much of him and his: and he kept saying to himself: 'She drew me +hither; wherefore did she so?' + +But she said: 'Gold-mane, how fareth thy father the Alderman? is he +as good a wright as ever?' + +He told her: Yea, that ever was his hammer on the iron, the copper, +and the gold, and that no wright in the Dale was as deft as he. + +Said she: 'Would he not have had thee seek to the Cities, to see the +ways of the outer world?' + +'Yea,' said he. + +She said: 'Thou wert wise to naysay that offer; thou shalt have +enough to do in the Dale and round about it in twelve months' time.' + +'Art thou foresighted?' said he. + +'Folk have called me so,' she said, 'but I wot not. But thy brother +Hall-face, how fareth he?' + +'Well;' said he, 'to my deeming he is the Sword of our House, and the +Warrior of the Dale, if the days were ready for him.' + +'And Stone-face, that stark ancient,' she said, 'doth he still love +the Folk of the Dale, and hate all other folks?' + +'Nay,' he said, 'I know not that, but I know that he loveth as, and +above all me and my father.' + +Again she spake: 'How fareth the Bride, the fair maid to whom thou +art affianced?' + +As she spake, it was to him as if his heart was stricken cold; but he +put a force upon himself, and neither reddened nor whitened, nor +changed countenance in any way; so he answered: + +'She was well the eve of yesterday.' Then he remembered what she +was, and her beauty and valour, and he constrained himself to say: +'Each day she groweth fairer; there is no man's son and no daughter +of woman that does not love her; yea, the very beasts of field and +fold love her.' + +The Friend looked at him steadily and spake no word, but a red flush +mounted to her cheeks and brow and changed her face; and he marvelled +thereat; for still he misdoubted that she was a Goddess. But it +passed away in a moment, and she smiled and said: + +'Guest, thou seemest to wonder that I know concerning thee and the +Dale and thy kindred. But now shalt thou wot that I have been in the +Dale once and again, and my brother oftener still; and that I have +seen thee before yesterday.' + +'That is marvellous,' quoth he, 'for sure am I that I have not seen +thee.' + +'Yet thou hast seen me,' she said; 'yet not altogether as I am now;' +and therewith she smiled on him friendly. + +'How is this?' said he; 'art thou a skin-changer?' + +'Yea, in a fashion,' she said. 'Hearken! dost thou perchance +remember a day of last summer when there was a market holden in +Burgstead; and there stood in the way over against the House of the +Face a tall old carle who was trucking deer-skins for diverse gear; +and with him was a queen, tall and dark-skinned, somewhat well- +liking, her hair bound up in a white coif so that none of it could be +seen; by the token that she had a large stone of mountain blue set in +silver stuck in the said coif?' + +As she spoke she set her hand to her bosom and drew something from +it, and held forth her hand to Gold-mane, and lo amidst the palm the +great blue stone set in silver. + +'Wondrous as a dream is this,' said Face-of-god, 'for these twain I +remember well, and what followed.' + +She said: 'I will tell thee that. There came a man of the Shepherd- +Folk, drunk or foolish, or both, who began to chaffer with the big +carle; but ever on the queen were his eyes set, and presently he put +forth his hand to her to clip her, whereon the big carle hove up his +fist and smote him, so that he fell to earth noseling. Then ran the +folk together to hale off the stranger and help the shepherd, and it +was like that the stranger should be mishandled. Then there thrust +through the press a young man with yellow hair and grey eyes, who +cried out, "Fellows, let be! The stranger had the right of it; this +is no matter to make a quarrel or a court case of. Let the market go +on! This man and maid are true folk." So when the folk heard the +young man and his bidding, they forebore and let the carle and the +queen be, and the shepherd went his ways little hurt. Now then, who +was this young man?' + +Quoth Gold-mane: 'It was even I, and meseemeth it was no great deed +to do.' + +'Yea,' she said, 'and the big carle was my brother, and the tall +queen, it was myself.' + +'How then,' said he, 'for she was as dark-skinned as a dwarf, and +thou so bright and fair?' + +She said: 'Well, if the woods are good for nothing else, yet are +they good for the growing of herbs, and I know the craft of simpling; +and with one of these herbs had I stained my skin and my brother's +also. And it showed the darker beneath the white coif.' + +'Yea,' said he, 'but why must ye needs fare in feigned shapes? Ye +would have been welcome guests in the Dale howsoever ye had come.' + +'I may not tell thee hereof as now,' said she. + +Said Gold-mane: 'Yet thou mayst belike tell me wherefore was that +thy brother desired to slay me yesterday, if he knew me, who I was.' + +'Gold-mane,' she said, 'thou art not slain, so little story need be +made of that: for the rest, belike he knew thee not at that moment. +So it falls with us, that we look to see foes rather than friends in +the wild-woods. Many uncouth things are therein. Moreover, I must +tell thee of my brother that whiles he is as the stalled bull late +let loose, and nothing is good to him save battle and onset; and then +is he blind and knows not friend from foe.' Said Face-of-god: 'Thou +hast asked of me and mine; wilt thou not tell me of thee and thine?' + +'Nay,' she said, 'not as now; thou must betake thee to the way. +Whither wert thou wending when thou happenedst upon us?' + +He said: 'I know not; I was seeking something, but I knew not what-- +meseemeth that now I have found it.' + +'Art thou for the great mountains seeking gems?' she said. 'Yet go +not thither to-day: for who knoweth what thou shalt meet there that +shall be thy foe?' + +He said: 'Nay, nay; I have nought to do but to abide here as long as +I may, looking upon thee and hearkening to thy voice.' + +Her eyes were upon his, but yet she did not seem to see him, and for +a while she answered not; and still he wondered that mere words +should come from so fair a thing; for whether she moved foot, or +hand, or knee, or turned this way or that, each time she stirred it +was a caress to his very heart. + +He spake again: 'May I not abide here a while? What scathe may be +in that?' + +'It is not so,' she said; 'thou must depart, and that straightway: +lo, there lieth thy spear which the Wood-mother hath brought in from +the waste. Take thy gear to thee and wend thy ways. Have patience! +I will lead thee to the place where we first met and there give thee +farewell.' + +Therewith she arose and he also perforce, and when they came to the +doorway she stepped across the threshold and then turned back and +gave him her hand and so led him forth, the sun flashing back from +her golden raiment. Together they went over the short grey grass of +that hillside till they came to the place where he had arisen from +that wrestle with her brother. There she stayed him and said: + +'This is the place; here must we part.' + +But his heart failed him and he faltered in his speech as he said: + +'When shall I see thee again? Wilt thou slay me if I seek to thee +hither once more?' + +'Hearken,' she said, 'autumn is now a-dying into winter: let winter +and its snows go past: nor seek to me hither; for me thou should'st +not find, but thy death thou mightest well fall in with; and I would +not that thou shouldest die. When winter is gone, and spring is on +the land, if thou hast not forgotten us thou shalt meet us again. +Yet shalt thou go further than this Woodland Hall. In Shadowy Vale +shalt thou seek to me then, and there will I talk with thee.' + +'And where,' said he, 'is Shadowy Vale? for thereof have I never +heard tell.' + +She said: 'The token when it cometh to thee shall show thee thereof +and the way thither. Art thou a babbler, Gold-mane?' + +He said: 'I have won no prize for babbling hitherto.' + +She said: 'If thou listest to babble concerning what hath befallen +thee on the Mountain, so do, and repent it once only, that is, thy +life long.' + +'Why should I say any word thereof?' said he. 'Dost thou not know +the sweetness of such a tale untold?' + +He spake as one who is somewhat wrathful, and she answered humbly and +kindly: + +'Well is that. Bide thou the token that shall lead thee to Shadowy +Vale. Farewell now.' + +She drew her hand from his, and turned and went her ways swiftly to +the house: he could not choose but gaze on her as she went +glittering-bright and fair in that grey place of the mountains, till +the dark doorway swallowed up her beauty. Then he turned away and +took the path through the pine-woods, muttering to himself as he +went: + +'What thing have I done now that hitherto I had not done? What +manner of man am I to-day other than the man I was yesterday?' + + + +CHAPTER VIII. FACE-OF-GOD COMETH HOME AGAIN TO BURGSTEAD + + + +Face-of-God went back through the wood by the way he had come, paying +little heed to the things about him. For whatever he thought of +strayed not one whit from the image of the Fair Woman of the +Mountain-side. + +He went through the wood swiftlier than yesterday, and made no stay +for noon or aught else, nor did he linger on the road when he was +come into the Dale, either to speak to any or to note what they did. +So he came to the House of the Face about dusk, and found no man +within the hall either carle or queen. So he cried out on the folk, +and there came in a damsel of the house, whom he greeted kindly and +she him again. He bade her bring the washing-water, and she did so +and washed his feet and his hands. She was a fair maid enough, as +were most in the Dale, but he heeded her little; and when she was +done he kissed not her cheek for her pains, as his wont was, but let +her go her ways unthanked. But he went to his shut-bed and opened +his chest, and drew fair raiment from it, and did off his wood-gear, +and did on him a goodly scarlet kirtle fairly broidered, and a collar +with gems of price therein, and other braveries. And when he was so +attired he came out into the hall, and there was old Stone-face +standing by the hearth, which was blazing brightly with fresh brands, +so that things were clear to see. + +Stone-face noted Gold-mane's gay raiment, for he was not wont to wear +such attire, save on the feasts and high days when he behoved to. So +the old man smiled and said: + +'Welcome back from the Wood! But what is it? Hast thou been wedded +there, or who hath made thee Earl and King?' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Foster-father, sooth it is that I have been to +the wood, but there have I seen nought of manfolk worse than myself. +Now as to my raiment, needs must I keep it from the moth. And I am +weary withal, and this kirtle is light and easy to me. Moreover, I +look to see the Bride here again, and I would pleasure her with the +sight of gay raiment upon me.' + +'Nay,' said Stone-face, 'hast thou not seen some woman in the wood +arrayed like the image of a God? and hath she not bidden thee thus to +worship her to-night? For I know that such wights be in the wood, +and that such is their wont.' + +Said Gold-mane: 'I worship nought save the Gods and the Fathers. +Nor saw I in the wood any such as thou sayest.' + +Therewith Stone-face shook his head; but after a while he said: + +'Art thou for the wood to-morrow?' + +'Nay,' said Gold-mane angrily, knitting his brows. + +'The morrow of to-morrow,' said Stone-face, 'is the day when we look +to see the Westland merchants: after all, wilt thou not go hence +with them when they wend their ways back before the first snows +fall?' + +'Nay,' said he, 'I have no mind to it, fosterer; cease egging me on +hereto.' + +Then Stone-face shook his head again, and looked on him long, and +muttered: 'To the wood wilt thou go to-morrow or next day; or some +day when doomed is thine undoing.' + +Therewith entered the service and torches, and presently after came +the Alderman with Hall-face; and Iron-face greeted his son and said +to him: 'Thou hast not hit the time to do on thy gay raiment, for +the Bride will not be here to-night; she bideth still at the Feast at +the Apple-tree House: or wilt thou be there, son?' + +'Nay,' said Face-of-god, 'I am over-weary. And as for my raiment, it +is well; it is for thine honour and the honour of the name.' + +So to table they went, and Iron-face asked his son of his ways again, +and whether he was quite fixed in his mind not to go down to the +Plain and the Cities: 'For,' said he, 'the morrow of to-morrow shall +the merchants be here, and this were great news for them if the son +of the Alderman should be their faring-fellow back.' + +But Face-of-god answered without any haste or heat: 'Nay, father, it +may not be: fear not, thou shalt see that I have a good will to work +and live in the Dale.' + +And in good sooth, though he was a young man and loved mirth and the +ways of his own will, he was a stalwarth workman, and few could mow a +match with him in the hay-month and win it; or fell trees as +certainly and swiftly, or drive as straight and clean a furrow +through the stiff land of the lower Dale; and in other matters also +was he deft and sturdy. + + + +CHAPTER IX. THOSE BRETHREN FARE TO THE YEWWOOD WITH THE BRIDE + + + +Next morning Face-of-god dight himself for work, and took his axe; +for his brother Hall-face had bidden him go down with him to the Yew- +wood and cut timber there, since he of all men knew where to go +straight to the sticks that would quarter best for bow-staves; +whereas the Alderman had the right of hewing in that wood. So they +went forth, those brethren, from the House of the Face, but when they +were gotten to the gate, who should be there but the Bride awaiting +them, and she with an ass duly saddled for bearing the yew-sticks. +Because Hall-face had told her that he and belike Gold-mane were +going to hew in the wood, and she thought it good to be of the +company, as oft had befallen erst. When they met she greeted Face- +of-god and kissed him as her wont was; and he looked upon her and saw +how fair she was, and how kind and friendly were her eyes that beheld +him, and how her whole face was eager for him as their lips parted. +Then his heart failed him, when he knew that he no longer desired her +as she did him, and he said within himself: + +'Would that she had been of our nighest kindred! Would that I had +had a sister and that this were she!' + +So the three went along the highway down the Dale, and Hall-face and +the Bride talked merrily together and laughed, for she was happy, +since she knew that Gold-mane had been to the wood and was back safe +and much as he had been before. So indeed it seemed of him; for +though at first he was moody and of few words, yet presently he +cursed himself for a mar-sport, and so fell into the talk, and +enforced himself to be merry; and soon he was so indeed; for he +thought: 'She drew me thither: she hath a deed for me to do. I +shall do the deed and have my reward. Soon will the spring-tide be +here, and I shall be a young man yet when it comes.' + +So came they to the place where he had met the three maidens +yesterday; there they also turned from the highway; and as they went +down the bent, Gold-mane could not but turn his eyes on the beauty of +the Bride and the lovely ways of her body: but presently he +remembered all that had betid, and turned away again as one who is +noting what it behoves him not to note. And he said to himself: +'Where art thou, Gold-mane? Whose art thou? Yea, even if that had +been but a dream that I have dreamed, yet would that this fair woman +were my sister!' + +So came they to the Yew-wood, and the brethren fell to work, and the +Bride with them, for she was deft with the axe and strong withal. +But at midday they rested on the green slope without the Yew-wood; +and they ate bread and flesh and onions and apples, and drank red +wine of the Dale. And while they were resting after their meat, the +Bride sang to them, and her song was a lay of time past; and here ye +have somewhat of it: + + +'Tis over the hill and over the dale + Men ride from the city fast and far, +If they may have a soothfast tale, + True tidings of the host of war. + +And first they hap on men-at-arms, + All clad in steel from head to foot: +Now tell true tale of the new-come harms, + And the gathered hosts of the mountain-root. + +Fair sirs, from murder-carles we flee, + Whose fashion is as the mountain-trolls'; +No man can tell how many they be, + And the voice of their host as the thunder rolls. + +They were weary men at the ending of day, + But they spurred nor stayed for longer word. +Now ye, O merchants, whither away? + What do ye there with the helm and the sword? + +O we must fight for life and gear, + For our beasts are spent and our wains are stayed, +And the host of the Mountain-men draws near, + That maketh all the world afraid. + +They left the chapmen on the hill, + And through the eve and through the night +They rode to have true tidings still, + And were there on the way when the dawn was bright. + +O damsels fair, what do ye then + To loiter thus upon the way, +And have no fear of the Mountain-men, + The host of the carles that strip and slay? + +O riders weary with the road, + Come eat and drink on the grass hereby! +And lay you down in a fair abode + Till the midday sun is broad and high; + +Then unto you shall we come aback, + And lead you forth to the Mountain-men, +To note their plenty and their lack, + And have true tidings there and then. + +'Tis over the hill and over the dale + They ride from the mountain fast and far; +And now have they learned a soothfast tale, + True tidings of the host of war. + +It was summer-tide and the Month of Hay, + And men and maids must fare afield; +But we saw the place were the bow-staves lay, + And the hall was hung with spear and shield. + +When the moon was high we drank in the hall, + And they drank to the guests and were kind and blithe, +And they said: Come back when the chestnuts fall, + And the wine-carts wend across the hythe. + +Come oft and o'er again, they said; + Wander your ways; but we abide +For all the world in the little stead; + For wise are we, though the world be wide. + +Yea, come in arms if ye will, they said; + And despite your host shall we abide +For life or death in the little stead; + For wise are we, though the world be wide. + + +So she made an end and looked at the fairness of the dale spreading +wide before her, and a robin came nigh from out of a thorn-bush and +sung his song also, the sweet herald of coming winter; and the +lapwings wheeled about, black and white, above the meadow by the +river, sending forth their wheedling pipe as they hung above the soft +turf. + +She felt the brothers near her, and knew their friendliness from of +old, and she was happy; nor had she looked closer at Gold-mane would +she have noted any change in him belike; for the meat and the good +wine, and the fair sunny time, and the Bride's sweet voice, and the +ancient song softened his heart while it fed the desire therein. + +So in a while they arose from their rest and did what was left them +of their work, and so went back to Burgstead through the fair +afternoon; by seeming all three in all content. But yet Gold-mane, +as from time to time he looked upon the Bride, kept saying to +himself: 'O if she had been but my sister! sweet had the kinship +been!' + + + +CHAPTER X. NEW TIDINGS IN THE DALE + + + +It was three days thereafter that Gold-mane, leading an ass, went +along the highway to fetch home certain fleeces which were needed for +the house from a stead a little west of Wildlake; but he had gone +scant half a mile ere he fell in with a throng of folk going to +Burgstead. They were of the Shepherds; they had weapons with them, +and some were clad in coats of fence. They went along making a great +noise, for they were all talking each to each at the same time, and +seemed very hot and eager about some matter. When they saw Gold-mane +anigh, they stopped, and the throng opened as if to let him into +their midmost; so he mingled with them, and they stood in a ring +about him and an old man more ill-favoured than it was the wont of +the Dalesmen to be. + +For he was long, stooping, gaunt and spindle-shanked, his hands big +and crippled with gout: his cheeks were red after an old man's +fashion, covered with a crimson network like a pippin; his lips thin +and not well hiding his few teeth; his nose long like a snipe's neb. +In short, a shame and a laughing-stock to the Folk, and a man whom +the kindreds had in small esteem, and that for good reasons. + +Face-of-god knew him at once for a notable close-fist and starve-all +fool of the Shepherds; and his name was now become Penny-thumb the +Lean, whatever it might once have been. + +So Face-of-god greeted all men, and they him again; and he said: +'What aileth you, neighbours? Your weapons, are bare, but I see not +that they be bloody. What is it, goodman Penny-thumb?' + +Penny-thumb did but groan for all answer; but a stout carle who stood +by with a broad grin on his face answered and said: + +'Face-of-god, evil tidings be abroad; the strong-thieves of the wood +are astir; and some deem that the wood-wights be helping them.' + +'Yea, and what is the deed they have done?' said Gold-mane. + +Said the carle: 'Thou knowest Penny-thumb's abode?' + +'Yea surely,' said Face-of-god; 'fair are the water-meadows about it; +great gain of cheese can be gotten thence.' + +'Hast thou been within the house?' said the carle. + +'Nay,' said Gold-mane. + +Then spake Penny-thumb: 'Within is scant gear: we gather for others +to scatter; we make meat for others' mouths.' + +The carle laughed: 'Sooth is that,' said he, 'that there is little +gear therein now; for the strong-thieves have voided both hall and +bower and byre.' + +'And when was that?' said Face-of-god. + +'The night before last night,' said the carle, 'the door was smitten +on, and when none answered it was broken down.' + +'Yea,' quoth Penny-thumb, 'a host entered, and they in arms.' + +'No host was within,' said the carle, 'nought but Penny-thumb and his +sister and his sister's son, and three carles that work for him; and +one of them, Rusty to wit, was the worst man of the hill-country. +These then the host whereof the goodman telleth bound, but without +doing them any scathe; and they ransacked the house, and took away +much gear; yet left some.' + +'Thou liest,' said Penny-thumb; 'they took little and left none.' + +Thereat all men laughed, for this seemed to them good game, and +another man said: 'Well, neighbour Penny-thumb, if it was so little, +thou hast done unneighbourly in giving us such a heap of trouble +about it.' + +And they laughed again, but the first carle said: 'True it is, +goodman, that thou wert exceeding eager to raise the hue and cry +after that little when we happed upon thee and thy housemates bound +in your chairs yesterday morning. Well, Alderman's son, short is the +tale to tell: we could not fail to follow the gear, and the slot led +us into the wood, and ill is the going there for us shepherds, who +are used to the bare downs, save Rusty, who was a good woodsman and +lifted the slot for us; so he outwent us all, and ran out of sight of +us, so presently we came upon him dead-slain, with the manslayer's +spear in his breast. What then could we do but turn back again, for +now was the wood blind now Rusty was dead, and we knew not whither to +follow the fray; and the man himself was but little loss: so back we +turned, and told goodman Penny-thumb of all this, for we had left him +alone in his hall lamenting his gear; so we bided to-day's morn, and +have come out now, with our neighbour and the spear, and the dead +corpse of Rusty. Stand aside, neighbours, and let the Alderman's son +see it.' + +They did so, and there was the corpse of a thin-faced tall wiry man, +somewhat foxy of aspect, lying on a hand-bier covered with black +cloth. + +'Yea, Face-of-god,' said the carle, 'he is not good to see now he is +dead, yet alive was he worser: but, look you, though the man was no +good man, yet was he of our people, and the feud is with us; so we +would see the Alderman, and do him to wit of the tidings, that he may +call the neighbours together to seek a blood-wite for Rusty and +atonement for the ransacking. Or what sayest thou?' + +'Have ye the spear that ye found in Rusty?' quoth Gold-mane. + +'Yea verily,' said the carle. 'Hither with it, neighbours; give it +to the Alderman's son.' + +So the spear came into his hand, and he looked at it and said: + +'This is no spear of the smiths' work of the Dale, as my father will +tell you. We take but little keep of the forging of spearheads here, +so that they be well-tempered and made so as to ride well on the +shaft; but this head, daintily is it wrought, the blood-trench as +clean and trim as though it were an Earl's sword. See you withal +this inlaying of runes on the steel? It is done with no tin or +copper, but with very silver; and these bands about the shaft be of +silver also. It is a fair weapon, and the owner hath a loss of it +greater than his gain in the slaying of Rusty; and he will have left +it in the wound so that he might be known hereafter, and that he +might be said not to have murdered Rusty but to have slain him. Or +how think ye?' + +They all said that this seemed like to be; but that if the man who +had slain Rusty were one of the ransackers they might have a blood- +wite of him, if they could find him. Gold-mane said that so it was, +and therewithal he gave the shepherds good-speed and went on his way. + +But they came to Burgstead and found the Alderman, and in due time +was a Court held, and a finding uttered, and outlawry given forth for +the manslaying and the ransacking against certain men unknown. As +for the spear, it was laid up in the House of the Face. + +But Face-of-god pondered these matters in his mind, for such +ransackings there had been none of in late years; and he said to +himself that his friends of the Mountain must have other folk, of +which the Dalesmen knew nought, whose gear they could lift, or how +could they live in that place. And he marvelled that they should +risk drawing the Dalesmen's wrath upon them; whereas they of the Dale +were strong men not easily daunted, albeit peaceable enough if not +stirred to wrath. For in good sooth he had no doubt concerning that +spear, whose it was and whence it came: for that very weapon had +been leaning against the panel of his shut-bed the night he slept on +the Mountain, and all the other spears that he saw there were more or +less of the same fashion, and adorned with silver. + +Albeit all that he knew, and all that he thought of, he kept in his +own heart and said nothing of it. + +So wore the autumn into early winter; and the Westland merchants came +in due time, and departed without Face-of-god, though his father made +him that offer one last time. He went to and fro about his work in +the Dale, and seemed to most men's eyes nought changed from what he +had been. But the Bride noted that he saw her less often than his +wont was, and abode with her a lesser space when he met her; and she +could not think what this might mean; nor had she heart to ask him +thereof, though she was sorry and grieved, but rather withdrew her +company from him somewhat; and when she perceived that he noted it +not, and made no question of it, then was she the sorrier. + +But the first winter-snow came on with a great storm of wind from the +north-east, so that no man stirred abroad who was not compelled +thereto, and those who went abroad risked life and limb thereby. +Next morning all was calm again, and the snow was deep, but it did +not endure long, for the wind shifted to the southwest and the thaw +came, and three days after, when folk could fare easily again up and +down the Dale, came tidings to Burgstead and the Alderman from the +Lower Dale, how a house called Greentofts had been ransacked there, +and none knew by whom. Now the goodman of Greentofts was little +loved of the neighbours: he was grasping and overbearing, and had +often cowed others out of their due: he was very cross-grained, both +at home and abroad: his wife had fled from his hand, neither did his +sons find it good to abide with him: therewithal he was wealthy of +goods, a strong man and a deft man-at-arms. When his sons and his +wife departed from him, and none other of the Dalesmen cared to abide +with him, he went down into the Plain, and got thence men to be with +him for hire, men who were not well seen to in their own land. These +to the number of twelve abode with him, and did his bidding whenso it +pleased them. Two more had he had who had been slain by good men of +the Dale for their masterful ways; and no blood-wite had been paid +for them, because of their ill-doings, though they had not been made +outlaws. This man of Greentofts was called Harts-bane after his +father, who was a great hunter. + +Now the full tidings of the ransacking were these: The storm began +two hours before sunset, and an hour thereafter, when it was quite +dark, for without none could see because the wind was at its height +and the drift of the snow was hard and full, the hall-door flew open; +and at first men thought it had been the wind, until they saw in the +dimness (for all lights but the fire on the hearth had been quenched) +certain things tumbling in which at first they deemed were wolves; +but when they took swords and staves against them, lo they were met +by swords and axes, and they saw that the seeming wolves were men +with wolf-skins drawn over them. So the new-comers cowed them that +they threw down their weapons, and were bound in their places; but +when they were bound, and had had time to note who the ransackers +were, they saw that there were but six of them all told, who had +cowed and bound Harts-bane and his twelve masterful men; and this +they deemed a great shaming to them, as might well be. + +So then the stead was ransacked, and those wolves took away what they +would, and went their ways through the fierce storm, and none could +tell whether they had lived or died in it; but at least neither the +men nor their prey were seen again; nor did they leave any slot, for +next morning the snow lay deep over everything. + +No doubt had Gold-mane but that these ransackers were his friends of +the Mountain; but he held his peace, abiding till the winter should +be over. + + + +CHAPTER XI. MEN MAKE OATH AT BURGSTEAD ON THE HOLY BOAR + + + +A week after the ransacking at Greentofts the snow and the winter +came on in earnest, and all the Dale lay in snow, and men went on +skids when they fared up and down the Dale or on the Mountain. + +All was now tidingless till Yule over, and in Burgstead was there +feasting and joyance enough; and especially at the House of the Face +was high-tide holden, and the Alderman and his sons and Stone-face +and all the kindred and all their men sat in glorious attire within +the hall; and many others were there of the best of the kindreds of +Burgstead who had been bidden. + +Face-of-god sat between his father and Stone-face; and he looked up +and down the tables and the hall and saw not the Bride, and his heart +misgave him because she was not there, and he wondered what had +befallen and if she were sick of sorrow. + +But Iron-face beheld him how he gazed about, and he laughed; for he +was exceeding merry that night and fared as a young man. Then he +said to his son: 'Whom seekest thou, son? is there someone lacking?' + +Face-of-god reddened as one who lies unused to it, and said: + +'Yea, kinsman, so it is that I was seeking the Bride my kinswoman.' + +'Nay,' said Iron-face, 'call her not kinswoman: therein is ill-luck, +lest it seem that thou art to wed one too nigh thine own blood. Call +her the Bride only: to thee and to me the name is good. Well, son, +desirest thou sorely to see her?' + +'Yea, yea, surely,' said Face-of-god; but his eyes went all about the +hall still, as though his mind strayed from the place and that home +of his. + +Said Iron-face: 'Have patience, son, thou shalt see her anon, and +that in such guise as shall please thee.' + +Therewithal came the maidens with the ewers of wine, and they filled +all horns and beakers, and then stood by the endlong tables on either +side laughing and talking with the carles and the older women; and +the hall was a fair sight to see, for the many candles burned bright +and the fire on the hearth flared up, and those maids were clad in +fair raiment, and there was none of them but was comely, and some +were fair, and some very fair: the walls also were hung with goodly +pictured cloths, and the image of the God of the Face looked down +smiling terribly from the gable-end above the high-seat. + +Thus as they sat they heard the sound of a horn winded close outside +the hall door, and the door was smitten on. Then rose Iron-face +smiling merrily, and cried out: + +'Enter ye, whether ye be friends or foes: for if ye be foemen, yet +shall ye keep the holy peace of Yule, unless ye be the foes of all +kindreds and nations, and then shall we slay you.' + +Thereat some who knew what was toward laughed; but Gold-mane, who had +been away from Burgstead some days past, marvelled and knit his +brows, and let his right hand fall on his sword-hilt. For this folk, +who were of merry ways, were wont to deal diversely with the Yule- +tide customs in the manner of shows; and he knew not that this was +one of them. + +Now was the Outer door thrown open, and there entered seven men, +whereof two were all-armed in bright war-gear, and two bore slug- +horns, and two bore up somewhat on a dish covered over with a piece +of rich cloth, and the seventh stood before them all wrapped up in a +dark fur mantle. + +Thus they stood a moment; and when he saw their number, back to Gold- +mane's heart came the thought of those folk on the Mountain: for +indeed he was somewhat out of himself for doubt and longing, else +would he have deemed that all this was but a Yule-tide play. + +Now the men with the slug-horns set them to their mouths and blew a +long blast; while the first of the new-comers set hand to the clasps +of the fur cloak and let it fall to the ground, and lo! a woman +exceeding beauteous, clad in glistering raiment of gold and fine web; +her hair wreathed with bay, and in her hand a naked sword with +goodly-wrought golden hilt and polished blue-gleaming blade. + +Face-of-god started up in his sear, and stared like a man new-wakened +from a strange dream: because for one moment he deemed verily that +it was the Woman of the Mountain arrayed as he had last seen her, and +he cried aloud 'The Friend, the Friend!' + +His father brake out into loud laughter thereat, and clapped his son +on the shoulder and said: 'Yea, yea, lad, thou mayst well say the +Friend; for this is thine old playmate whom thou hast been looking +round the hall for, arrayed this eve in such fashion as is meet for +her goodliness and her worthiness. Yea, this is the Friend indeed!' + +Then waxed Face-of-god as red as blood for shame, and he sat him down +in his place again: for now he wotted what was toward, and saw that +this fair woman was the Bride. + +But Stone-face from the other side looked keenly on him. + +Then blew the horns again, and the Bride stepped daintily up the +hall, and the sweet odour of her raiment went from her about the +fire-warmed dwelling, and her beauty moved all hearts with love. So +stood she at the high-table; and those two who bore the burden set it +down thereon and drew off the covering, and lo! there was the Holy +Boar of Yule on which men were wont to make oath of deeds that they +would do in the coming year, according to the custom of their +forefathers. Then the Bride laid the goodly sword beside the dish, +and then went round the table and sat down betwixt Face-of-god and +Stone-face, and turned kindly to Gold-mane, and was glad; for now was +his fair face as its wont was to be. He in turn smiled upon her, for +she was fair and kind and his fellow for many a day. + +Now the men-at-arms stood each side the Boar, and out from them on +each side stood the two hornsmen: then these blew up again, whereon +the Alderman stood up and cried: + +'Ye sons of the brave who have any deed that ye may be desirous of +doing, come up, come lay your hand on the sword, and the point of the +sword to the Holy Beast, and swear the oath that lieth on your +hearts.' + +Therewith he sat down, and there strode a man up the hall, strong- +built and sturdy, but short of stature; black-haired, red-bearded, +and ruddy-faced: and he stood on the dais, and took up the sword and +laid its point on the Boar, and said: + +'I am Bristler, son of Brightling, a man of the Shepherds. Here by +the Holy Boar I swear to follow up the ransackers of Penny-thumb and +the slayers of Rusty. And I take this feud upon me, although they be +no good men, because I am of the kin and it falleth to me, since +others forbear; and when the Court was hallowed hereon I was away out +of the Dale and the Downs. So help me the Warrior, and the God of +the Earth.' + +Then the Alderman nodded his head to him kindly, and reached him out +a cup of wine, and as he drank there went up a rumour of praise from +the hall; and men said that his oath was manly and that he was like +to keep it; for he was a good man-at-arms and a stout heart. + +Then came up three men of the Shepherds and two of the Dale and swore +to help Bristler in his feud, and men thought it well sworn. + +After that came a braggart, a man very gay of his raiment, and swore +with many words that if he lived the year through he would be a +captain over the men of the Plain, and would come back again with +many gifts for his friends in the Dale. This men deemed foolishly +sworn, for they knew the man; so they jeered at him and laughed as he +went back to his place ashamed. + +Then swore three others oaths not hard to be kept, and men laughed +and were merry. + +At last uprose the Alderman, and said: 'Kinsmen, and good fellows, +good days and peaceable are in the Dale as now; and of such days +little is the story, and little it availeth to swear a deed of +derring-do: yet three things I swear by this Beast; and first to +gainsay no man's asking if I may perform it; and next to set right +above law and mercy above custom; and lastly, if the days change and +war cometh to us or we go to meet it, I will be no backwarder in the +onset than three fathoms behind the foremost. So help me the +Warrior, and the God of the Face and the Holy Earth!' + +Therewith he sat down, and all men shouted for joy of him, and said +that it was most like that he would keep his oath. + +Last of all uprose Face-of-god and took up the sword and looked at +it; and so bright was the blade that he saw in it the image of the +golden braveries which the Bride bore, and even some broken image of +her face. Then he handled the hilt and laid the point on the Boar, +and cried: + +'Hereby I swear to wed the fairest woman of the Earth before the year +is worn to an end; and that whether the Dalesmen gainsay me or the +men beyond the Dale. So help me the Warrior, and the God of the Face +and the Holy Earth!' + +Therewith he sat down; and once more men shouted for the love of him +and of the Bride, and they said he had sworn well and like a +chieftain. + +But the Bride noted him that neither were his eyes nor his voice like +to their wont as he swore, for she knew him well; and thereat was she +ill at ease, for now whatever was new in him was to her a threat of +evil to come. + +Stone-face also noted him, and he knew the young man better than all +others save the Bride, and he saw withal that she was ill-pleased, +and he said to himself: 'I will speak to my fosterling to-morrow if +I may find him alone.' + +So came the swearing to an end, and they fell to on their meat and +feasted on the Boar of Atonement after they had duly given the Gods +their due share, and the wine went about the hall and men were merry +till they drank the parting cup and fared to rest in the shut-beds, +and whereso else they might in the Hall and the House, for there were +many men there. + + + +CHAPTER XII. STONE-FACE TELLETH CONCERNING THE WOOD-WIGHTS + + + +Early on the morrow Gold-mane arose and clad himself and went out-a- +doors and over the trodden snow on to the bridge over the Weltering +Water, and there betook himself into one of the coins of safety built +over the up-stream piles; there he leaned against the wall and turned +his face to the Thorp, and fell to pondering on his case. And first +he thought about his oath, and how that he had sworn to wed the +Mountain Woman, although his kindred and her kindred should gainsay +him, yea and herself also. Great seemed that oath to him, yet at +that moment he wished he had made it greater, and made all the +kindred, yea and the Bride herself, sure of the meaning of the words +of it: and he deemed himself a dastard that he had not done so. +Then he looked round him and beheld the winter, and he fell into mere +longing that the spring were come and the token from the Mountain. +Things seemed too hard for him to deal with, and he between a mighty +folk and two wayward women; and he went nigh to wish that he had +taken his father's offer and gone down to the Cities; and even had he +met his bane: well were that! And, as young folk will, he set to +work making a picture of his deeds there, had he been there. He +showed himself the stricken fight in the plain, and the press, and +the struggle, and the breaking of the serried band, and himself +amidst the ring of foemen doing most valiantly, and falling there at +last, his shield o'er-heavy with the weight of foemen's spears for a +man to uphold it. Then the victory of his folk and the lamentation +and praise over the slain man of the Mountain Dales, and the burial +of the valiant warrior, the praising weeping folk meeting him at the +City-gate, laid stark and cold in his arms on the gold-hung garlanded +bier. + +There ended his dream, and he laughed aloud and said: 'I am a fool! +All this were good and sweet if I should see it myself; and forsooth +that is how I am thinking of it, as if I still alive should see +myself dead and famous!' + +Then he turned a little and looked at the houses of the Thorp lying +dark about the snowy ways under the starlit heavens of the winter +morning: dark they were indeed and grey, save where here and there +the half-burned Yule-fire reddened the windows of a hall, or where, +as in one place, the candle of some early waker shone white in a +chamber window. There was scarce a man astir, he deemed, and no +sound reached him save the crowing of the cocks muffled by their +houses, and a faint sound of beasts in the byres. + +Thus he stood a while, his thoughts wandering now, till presently he +heard footsteps coming his way down the street and turned toward +them, and lo it was the old man Stone-face. He had seen Gold-mane go +out, and had risen and followed him that he might talk with him +apart. Gold-mane greeted him kindly, though, sooth to say, he was +but half content to see him; since he doubted, what was verily the +case, that his foster-father would give him many words, counselling +him to refrain from going to the wood, and this was loathsome to him; +but he spake and said: + +'Meseems, father, that the eastern sky is brightening toward dawn.' + +'Yea,' quoth Stone-face. + +'It will be light in an hour,' said Face-of-god. + +'Even so,' said Stone-face. + +'And a fair day for the morrow of Yule,' said the swain. + +'Yea,' said Stone-face, 'and what wilt thou do with the fair day? +Wilt thou to the wood?' + +'Maybe, father,' said Gold-mane; 'Hall-face and some of the swains +are talking of elks up the fells which may be trapped in the drifts, +and if they go a-hunting them, I may go in their company.' + +'Ah, son,' quoth Stone-face, 'thou wilt look to see other kind of +beasts than elks. Things may ye fall in with there who may not be +impounded in the snow like to elks, but can go light-foot on the top +of the soft drift from one place to another.' + +Said Gold-mane: 'Father, fear me not; I shall either refrain me from +the wood, or if I go, I shall go to hunt the wood-deer with other +hunters. But since thou hast come to me, tell me more about the +wood, for thy tales thereof are fair.' + +'Yea,' said Stone-face, 'fair tales of foul things, as oft it +befalleth in the world. Hearken now! if thou deemest that what thou +seekest shall come readier to thine hand because of the winter and +the snow, thou errest. For the wights that waylay the bodies and +souls of the mighty in the wild-wood heed such matters nothing; yea +and at Yule-tide are they most abroad, and most armed for the fray. +Even such an one have I seen time agone, when the snow was deep and +the wind was rough; and it was in the likeness of a woman clad in +such raiment as the Bride bore last night, and she trod the snow +light-foot in thin raiment where it would scarce bear the skids of a +deft snow-runner. Even so she stood before me; the icy wind blew her +raiment round about her, and drifted the hair from her garlanded head +toward me, and she as fair and fresh as in the midsummer days. Up +the fell she fared, sweetest of all things to look on, and beckoned +on me to follow; on me, the Warrior, the Stout-heart; and I followed, +and between us grief was born; but I it was that fostered that child +and not she. Always when she would be, was she merry and lovely; and +even so is she now, for she is of those that be long-lived. And I +wot that thou hast seen even such an one!' + +'Tell me more of thy tales, foster-father,' said Gold-mane, 'and fear +not for me!' + +'Ah, son,' he said, 'mayst thou have no such tales to tell to those +that shall be young when thou art old. Yet hearken! We sat in the +hall together and there was no third; and methought that the birds +sang and the flowers bloomed, and sweet was their savour, though it +was midwinter. A rose-wreath was on her head; grapes were on the +board, and fair unwrinkled summer apples on the day that we feasted +together. When was the feast? sayst thou. Long ago. What was the +hall, thou sayest, wherein ye feasted? I know not if it were on the +earth or under it, or if we rode the clouds that even. But on the +morrow what was there but the stark wood and the drift of the snow, +and the iron wind howling through the branches, and a lonely man, a +wanderer rising from the ground. A wanderer through the wood and up +the fell, and up the high mountain, and up and up to the edges of the +ice-river and the green caves of the ice-hills. A wanderer in +spring, in summer, autumn and winter, with an empty heart and a +burning never-satisfied desire; who hath seen in the uncouth places +many an evil unmanly shape, many a foul hag and changing ugly +semblance; who hath suffered hunger and thirst and wounding and +fever, and hath seen many things, but hath never again seen that fair +woman, or that lovely feast-hall. + +'All praise and honour to the House of the Face, and the bounteous +valiant men thereof! and the like praise and honour to the fair women +whom they wed of the valiant and goodly House of the Steer!' + +'Even so say I,' quoth Gold-mane calmly; 'but now wend we aback to +the House, for it is morning indeed, and folk will be stirring +there.' + +So they turned from the bridge together; and Stone-face was kind and +fatherly, and was telling his foster-son many wise things concerning +the life of a chieftain, and the giving-out of dooms and the +gathering for battle; to all which talk Face-of-god seemed to hearken +gladly, but indeed hearkened not at all; for verily his eyes were +beholding that snowy waste, and the fair woman upon it; even such an +one as Stone-face had told of. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. THEY FARE TO THE HUNTING OF THE ELK + + + +When they came into the Hall, the hearth-fire had been quickened, and +the sleepers on the floor had been wakened, and all folk were astir. +So the old man sat down by the hearth while Gold-mane busied himself +in fetching wood and water, and in sweeping out the Hall, and other +such works of the early morning. In a little while Hall-face and the +other young men and warriors were afoot duly clad, and the Alderman +came from his chamber and greeted all men kindly. Soon meat was set +upon the boards, and men broke their fast; and day dawned while they +were about it, and ere it was all done the sun rose clear and golden, +so that all men knew that the day would be fair, for the frost seemed +hard and enduring. + +Then the eager young men and the hunters, and those who knew the +mountain best drew together about the hearth, and fell to talking of +the hunting of the elk; and there were three there who knew both the +woods and also the fells right up to the ice-rivers better than any +other; and these said that they who were fain of the hunting of the +elk would have no likelier time than that day for a year to come. +Short was the rede betwixt them, for they said they would go to the +work at once and make the most of the short winter daylight. So they +went each to his place, and some outside that House to their fathers' +houses to fetch each man his gear. Face-of-god for his part went to +his shut-bed, and stood by his chest, and opened it, and drew out of +it a fine hauberk of ring-mail which his father had made for him: +for though Face-of-god was a deft wright, he was not by a long way so +deft as his father, who was the deftest of all men of that time and +country; so that the alien merchants would give him what he would for +his hauberks and helms, whenso he would chaffer with them, which was +but seldom. So Face-of-god did on this hauberk over his kirtle, and +over it he cast his foul-weather weed, so that none might see it: he +girt a strong war-sword to his side, cast his quiver over his +shoulder, and took his bow in his hand, although he had little lust +to shoot elks that day, even as Stone-face had said; therewithal he +took his skids, and went forth of the hall to the gate of the Burg; +whereto gathered the whole company of twenty-three, and Gold-mane the +twenty-fourth. And each man there had his skids and his bow and +quiver, and whatso other weapon, as short-sword, or wood-knife, or +axe, seemed good to him. + +So they went out-a-gates, and clomb the stairway in the cliff which +led to the ancient watch-tower: for it was on the lower slopes of +the fells which lay near to the Weltering Water that they looked to +find the elks, and this was the nighest road thereto. When they had +gotten to the top they lost no time, but went their ways nearly due +east, making way easily where there were but scattered trees close to +the lip of the sheer cliffs. + +They went merrily on their skids over the close-lying snow, and were +soon up on the great shoulders of the fells that went up from the +bank of the Weltering Water: at noon they came into a little dale +wherein were a few trees, and there they abided to eat their meat, +and were very merry, making for themselves tables and benches of the +drifted snow, and piling it up to windward as a defence against the +wind, which had now arisen, little but bitter from the south-east; so +that some, and they the wisest, began to look for foul weather: +wherefore they tarried the shorter while in the said dale or hollow. + +But they were scarcely on their way again before the aforesaid south- +east wind began to grow bigger, and at last blew a gale, and brought +up with it a drift of fine snow, through which they yet made their +way, but slowly, till the drift grew so thick that they could not see +each other five paces apart. + +Then perforce they made stay, and gathered together under a bent +which by good luck they happened upon, where they were sheltered from +the worst of the drift. There they abode, till in less than an +hour's space the drift abated and the wind fell, and in a little +while after it was quite clear, with the sun shining brightly and the +young waxing moon white and high up in the heavens; and the frost was +harder than ever. + +This seemed good to them; but now that they could see each other's +faces they fell to telling over their company, and there was none +missing save Face-of-god. They were somewhat dismayed thereat, but +knew not what to do, and they deemed he might not be far off, either +a little behind or a little ahead; and Hall-face said: + +'There is no need to make this to-do about my brother; he can take +good care of himself; neither does a warrior of the Face die because +of a little cold and frost and snow-drift. Withal Gold-mane is a +wilful man, and of late days hath been wilful beyond his wont; let us +now find the elks.' + +So they went on their ways hoping to fall in with him again. No long +story need be made of their hunting, for not very far from where they +had taken shelter they came upon the elks, many of them, impounded in +the drifts, pretty much where the deft hunters looked to find them. +There then was battle between the elks and the men, till the beasts +were all slain and only one man hurt: then they made them sleighs +from wood which they found in the hollows thereby, and they laid the +carcasses thereon, and so turned their faces homeward, dragging their +prey with them. But they met not Face-of-god either there or on the +way home; and Hall-face said: 'Maybe Gold-mane will lie on the fell +to-night; and I would I were with him; for adventures oft befall such +folk when they abide in the wilds.' + +Now it was late at night by then they reached Burgstead, so laden as +they were with the dead beasts; but they heeded the night little, for +the moon was well-nigh as bright as day for them. But when they came +to the gate of the Thorp, there were assembled the goodmen and swains +to meet them with torches and wine in their honour. There also was +Gold-mane come back before them, yea for these two hours; and he +stood clad in his holiday raiment and smiled on them. + +Then was there some jeering at him that he was come back empty-handed +from the hunting, and that he was not able to abide the wind and the +drift; but he laughed thereat, for all this was but game and play, +since men knew him for a keen hunter and a stout woodsman; and they +had deemed it a heavy loss of him if he had been cast away, as some +feared he had been: and his brother Hall-face embraced him and +kissed him, and said to him: 'Now the next time that thou farest to +the wood will I be with thee foot to foot, and never leave thee, and +then meseemeth I shall wot of the tale that hath befallen thee, and +belike it shall be no sorry one.' + +Face-of-god laughed and answered but little, and they all betook them +to the House of the Face and held high feast therein, for as late as +the night was, in honour of this Hunting of the Elk. + +No man cared to question Face-of-god closely as to how or where he +had strayed from the hunt; for he had told his own tale at once as +soon as he came home, to wit, that his right-foot skid-strap had +broken, and even while he stopped to mend it came on that drift and +weather; and that he could not move from that place without losing +his way, and that when it had cleared he knew not whither they had +gone because the snow had covered their slot. So he deemed it not +unlike that they had gone back, and that he might come up with one or +two on the way, and that in any case he wotted well that they could +look after themselves; so he turned back, not going very swiftly. +All this seemed like enough, and a little matter except to jest +about, so no man made any question concerning it: only old Stone- +face said to himself: + +'Now were I fain to have a true tale out of him, but it is little +likely that anything shall come of my much questioning; and it is ill +forcing a young man to tell lies.' + +So he held his peace, and the feast went on merrily and blithely. + + + +CHAPTER XIV. CONCERNING FACE-OF-GOD AND THE MOUNTAIN + + + +But it must be told of Gold-mane that what had befallen him was in +this wise. His skid-strap brake in good sooth, and he stayed to mend +it; but when he had done what was needful, he looked up and saw no +man nigh, what for the drift, and that they had gone on somewhat; so +he rose to his feet, and without more delay, instead of keeping on +toward the elk-ground and the way his face had been set, he turned +himself north-and-by-east, and went his ways swiftly towards that +airt, because he deemed that it might lead him to the Mountain-hall +where he had guested. He abode not for the storm to clear, but swept +off through the thick of it; and indeed the wind was somewhat at his +back, so that he went the swiftlier. But when the drift was gotten +to its very worst, he sheltered himself for a little in a hollow +behind a thorn-bush he stumbled upon. As soon as it began to abate +he went on again, and at last when it was quite clear, and the sun +shone out, he found himself on a long slope of the fells covered deep +with smooth white snow, and at the higher end a great crag rising +bare fifty feet above the snow, and more rocks, but none so great, +and broken ground as he judged (the snow being deep) about it on the +hither side; and on the further, three great pine-trees all bent down +and mingled together by their load of snow. + +Thitherward he made, as a man might, seeing nothing else to note +before him; but he had not made many strides when forth from behind +the crag by the pine-trees came a man; and at first Face-of-god +thought it might be one of his hunting-fellows gone astray, and he +hailed him in a loud voice, but as he looked he saw the sun flash +back from a bright helm on the new-comer's head; albeit he kept on +his way till there was but a space of two hundred yards between them; +when lo! the helm-bearer notched a shaft to his bent bow and loosed +at Face-of-god, and the arrow came whistling and passed six inches by +his right ear. Then Face-of-god stopped perplexed with his case; for +he was on the deep snow in his skids, with his bow unbent, and he +knew not how to bend it speedily. He was loth to turn his back and +flee, and indeed he scarce deemed that it would help him. Meanwhile +of his tarrying the archer loosed again at him, and this time the +shaft flew close to his left ear. Then Face-of-god thought to cast +himself down into the snow, but he was ashamed; till there came a +third shaft which flew over his head amidmost and close to it. 'Good +shooting on the Mountain!' muttered he; 'the next shaft will be +amidst my breast, and who knows whether the Alderman's handiwork will +keep it out.' + +So he cried aloud: 'Thou shootest well, brother; but art thou a foe? +If thou art, I have a sword by my side, and so hast thou; come hither +to me, and let us fight it out friendly if we must needs fight.' + +A laugh came down the wind to him clear but somewhat shrill, and the +archer came swiftly towards him on his skids with no weapon in his +hand save his bow; so that Face-of-god did not draw his sword, but +stood wondering. + +As they drew nearer he beheld the face of the new-comer, and deemed +that he had seen it before; and soon, for all that it was hooded +close by the ill-weather raiment, he perceived it to be the face of +Bow-may, ruddy and smiling. + +She laughed out loud again, as she stopped herself within three feet +of him, and said: + +'Yea, friend Yellow-hair, we heard of the elks and looked to see thee +hereabouts, and I knew thee at once when I came out from behind the +crag and saw thee stand bewildered.' + +Said Gold-mane: 'Hail to thee, Bow-may! and glad am I to see thee. +But thou liest in saying that thou knewest me; else why didst thou +shoot those three shafts at me? Surely thou art not so quick as that +with all thy friends: these be sharp greetings of you Mountain- +folk.' + +'Thou lad with the sweet mouth,' she said, 'I like to see thee and +hear thee talk, but now must I hasten thy departure; so stand we here +no longer. Let us get down into the wood where we can do off our +skids and sit down, and then will I tell thee the tidings. Come on!' + +And she caught his hand in hers, and they went speedily down the +slopes toward the great oak-wood, the wind whistling past their ears. + +'Whither are we going?' said he. + +Said she: 'I am to show thee the way back home, which thou wilt not +know surely amidst this snow. Come, no words! thou shalt not have my +tale from me till we are in the wood: so the sooner we are there the +sooner shalt thou be pleased.' + +So Face-of-god held his peace, and they went on swiftly side by side. +But it was not Bow-may's wont to be silent for long, so presently she +said: + +'Thou art good so do as I bid thee; but see thou, sweet playmate, for +all thou art a chieftain's son, thou wert but feather-brained to ask +me why I shot at thee. I shoot at thee! that were a fine tale to +tell her this even! Or dost thou think that I could shoot at a big +man on the snow at two hundred paces and miss him three times? +Unless I aimed to miss.' + +'Yea, Bow-may,' said he, 'art thou so deft a Bow-may? Thou shalt be +in my company whenso I fare to battle.' + +'Indeed,' she said, 'therein thou sayest but the bare truth: nowhere +else shall I be, and thou shalt find my bow no worse than a good +shield.' + +He laughed somewhat lightly; but she looked on him soberly and said: +'Laugh in that fashion on the day of battle, and we shall be well +content with thee!' + +So on they sped very swiftly, for their way was mostly down hill, so +that they were soon amongst the outskirting trees of the wood, and +presently after reached the edge of the thicket, beyond which the +ground was but thinly covered with snow. + +There they took off their skids, and went into the thick wood and sat +down under a hornbeam tree; and ere Gold-mane could open his mouth to +speak Bow-may began and said: + +'Well it was that I fell in with thee, Dalesman, else had there been +murders of men to tell of; but ever she ordereth all things wisely, +though unwisely hast thou done to seek to her. Hearken! dost thou +think that thou hast done well that thou hast me here with my tale? +Well, hadst thou busied thyself with the slaying of elks, or with +sitting quietly at home, yet shouldest thou have heard my tale, and +thou shouldest have seen me in Burgstead in a day or two to tell thee +concerning the flitting of the token. And ill it is that I have +missed it, for fain had I been to behold the House of the Face, and +to have seen thee sitting there in thy dignity amidst the kindred of +chieftains.' + +And she sighed therewith. But he said: 'Hold up thine heart, Bow- +may! On the word of a true man that shall befall thee one day. But +come, playmate, give me thy tale!' + +'Yea,' she said, 'I must now tell thee in the wild-wood what else I +had told thee in the Hall. Hearken closely, for this is the message: + +'Seek not to me again till thou hast the token; else assuredly wilt +thou be slain, and I shall be sorry for many a day. Thereof as now I +may not tell thee more. Now as to the token: When March is worn two +weeks fail not to go to and fro on the place of the Maiden Ward for +an hour before sunrise every day till thou hear tidings.' + +'Now,' quoth Bow-may, 'hast thou hearkened and understood?' + +'Yea,' said he. + +She said: 'Then tell me the words of my message concerning the +token.' And he did so word for word. Then she said: + +'It is well, there is no more to say. Now must I lead thee till thou +knowest the wood; and then mayst thou get on to the smooth snow +again, and so home merrily. Yet, thou grey-eyed fellow, I will have +my pay of thee before I do that last work.' + +Therewith she turned about to him and took his head between her +hands, and kissed him well favouredly both cheeks and mouth; and she +laughed, albeit the tears stood in her eyes as she said: 'Now +smelleth the wood sweeter, and summer will come back again. And even +thus will I do once more when we stand side by side in battle array.' + +He smiled kindly on her and nodded as they both rose up from the +earth: she had taken off her foul-weather gloves while they spake, +and he kissed her hand, which was shapely of fashion albeit somewhat +brown, and hard of palm, and he said in friendly wise: + +'Thou art a merry faring-fellow, Bow-may, and belike shalt be withal +a true fighting-fellow. Come now, thou shalt be my sister and I thy +brother, in despite of those three shafts across the snow.' + +He laughed therewith; she laughed not, but seemed glad, and said +soberly: + +'Yea, I may well be thy sister; for belike I also am of the people of +the Gods, who have come into these Dales by many far ways. I am of +the House of the Ragged Sword of the Kindred of the Wolf. Come, +brother, let us toward Wildlake's Way.' + +Therewith she went before him and led through the thicket as by an +assured and wonted path, and he followed hard at heel; but his +thought went from her for a while; for those words of brother and +sister that he had spoken called to his mind the Bride, and their +kindness of little children, and the days when they seemed to have +nought to do but to make the sun brighter, and the flowers fairer, +and the grass greener, and the birds happier each for the other; and +a hard and evil thing it seemed to him that now he should be making +all these things nought and dreary to her, now when he had become a +man and deeds lay before him. Yet again was he solaced by what Bow- +may had said concerning battle to come; for he deemed that she must +have had this from the Friend's foreseeing; and he longed sore for +deeds to do, wherein all these things might be cleared up and washen +clean as it were. + +So passed they through the wood a long way, and it was getting dark +therein, and Gold-mane said: + +'Hold now, Bow-may, for I am at home here.' + +She looked around and said: 'Yea, so it is: I was thinking of many +things. Farewell and live merrily till March comes and the token!' + +Therewith she turned and went her ways and was soon out of sight, and +he went lightly through the wood, and then on skids over the hard +snow along the Dale's edge till he was come to the watch-tower, when +the moon was bright in heaven. + +Thus was he at Burgstead and the House of the Face betimes, and +before the hunters were gotten back. + + + +CHAPTER XV. MURDER AMONGST THE FOLK OF THE WOODLANDERS + + + +So wore away midwinter tidingless. Stone-face spake no more to Face- +of-god about the wood and its wights, when he saw that the young man +had come back hale and merry, seemed not to crave over-much to go +back thither. As for the Bride, she was sad, and more than +misdoubted all; but dauntless as she was in matters that try men's +hardihood, she yet lacked heart to ask of Face-of-god what had +befallen him since the autumn-tide, or where he was with her. So she +put a force upon herself not to look sad or craving when she was in +his company, as full oft she was; for he rather sought her than +shunned her. For when he saw her thus, he deemed things were +changing with her as they had changed with him, and he bethought him +of what he had spoken to Bow-may, and deemed that even so he might +speak with the Bride when the time came, and that she would not be +grieved beyond measure, and all would be well. + +Now came on the thaw, and the snow went, and the grass grew all up +and down the Dale, and all waters were big. And about this time +arose rumours of strange men in the wood, uncouth, vile, and +murderous, and many of the feebler sort were made timorous thereby. + +But a little before March was born came new tidings from the +Woodlanders; to wit: There came on a time to the house of a woodland +carle, a worthy goodman well renowned of all, two wayfarers in the +first watch of the night; and these men said that they were wending +down to the Plain from a far-away dale, Rose-dale to wit, which all +men had heard of, and that they had strayed from the way and were +exceeding weary, and they craved a meal's meat and lodging for the +night. + +This the goodman might nowise gainsay, and he saw no harm in it, +wherefore he bade them abide and be merry. + +These men, said they who told the tidings, were outlanders, and no +man had seen any like them before: they were armed, and bore short +bows made of horn, and round targets, and coats-of-fence done over +with horn scales; they had crooked swords girt to their sides, and +axes of steel forged all in one piece, right good weapons. They were +clad in scarlet and had much silver on their raiment and about their +weapons, and great rings of the same on their arms; and all this +silver seemed brand-new. + +Now the Woodland Carle gave them of such things as he had, and was +kind and blithe to them: there were in his house besides himself +five men of his sons and kindred, and his wife and three daughters +and two other maids. So they feasted after the Woodlanders' fashion, +and went to bed a little before midnight. Two hours after, the carle +awoke and heard a little stir, and he looked and saw the guests on +their feet amidst the hall clad in all their war-gear; and they had +betwixt them his two youngest daughters, maids of fifteen and twelve +winters, and had bound their hands and done clouts over their mouths, +so that they might not cry out; and they were just at point to carry +them off. Thereat the goodman, naked as he was, caught up his sword +and made at these murder-carles, and or ever they were ware of him he +had hewn down one and turned to face the other, who smote at him with +his steel axe and gave him a great wound on the shoulder, and +therewithal fled out at the open door and forth into the wood. + +The Woodlander made no stay to raise the cry (there was no need, for +the hall was astir now from end to end, and men getting to their +weapons), but ran out after the felon even as he was; and, in spite +of his grievous hurt, overran him no long way from the house before +he had gotten into the thicket. But the man was nimble and strong, +and the goodman unsteady from his wound, and by then the others of +the household came up with the hue and cry he had gotten two more +sore wounds and was just making an end of throttling the felon with +his bare hands. So he fell into their arms fainting from weakness, +and for all they could do he died in two hours' time from that axe- +wound in his shoulder, and another on the side of the head, and a +knife-thrust in his side; and he was a man of sixty winters. + +But the stranger he had slain outright; and the one whom he had +smitten in the hall died before the dawn, thrusting all help aside, +and making no sound of speech. + +When these tidings came to Burgstead they seemed great to men, and to +Gold-mane more than all. So he and many others took their weapons +and fared up to Wildlake's Way, and so came to the Woodland Carles. +But the Woodlanders had borne out the carcasses of those felons and +laid them on the green before Wood-grey's door (for that was the name +of the dead goodman), and they were saying that they would not bury +such accursed folk, but would bear them a little way so that they +should not be vexed with the stink of them, and cast them into the +thicket for the wolf and the wild-cat and the stoat to deal with; and +they should lie there, weapons and silver and all; and they deemed it +base to strip such wretches, for who would wear their raiment or bear +their weapons after them. + +There was a great ring of folk round about them when they of +Burgstead drew near, and they shouted for joy to see their +neighbours, and made way before them. Then the Dalesmen cursed these +murderers who had slain so good a man, and they all praised his +manliness, whereas he ran out into the night naked and wounded after +his foe, and had fallen like his folk of old time. + +It was a bright spring afternoon in that clearing of the Wood, and +they looked at the two dead men closely; and Gold-mane, who had been +somewhat silent and moody till then, became merry and wordy; for he +beheld the men and saw that they were utterly strange to him: they +were short of stature, crooked-legged, long-armed, very strong for +their size: with small blue eyes, snubbed-nosed, wide-mouthed, thin- +lipped, very swarthy of skin, exceeding foul of favour. He and all +others wondered who they were, and whence they came, for never had +they seen their like; and the Woodlanders, who often guested +outlanders strayed from the way of divers kindreds and nations, said +also that none such had they ever seen. But Stone-face, who stood by +Gold-mane, shook his head and quoth he: + +'The Wild-wood holdeth many marvels, and these be of them: the spawn +of evil wights quickeneth therein, and at other whiles it melteth +away again like the snow; so may it be with these carcasses.' + +And some of the older folk of the Woodlanders who stood by hearkened +what he said, and deemed his words wise, for they remembered their +ancient lore and many a tale of old time. + +Thereafter they of Burgstead went into Wood-grey's hall, or as many +of them as might, for it was but a poor place and not right great. +There they saw the goodman laid on the dais in all his war-gear, +under the last tie-beam of his hall, whereon was carved amidst much +goodly work of knots and flowers and twining stems the image of the +Wolf of the Waste, his jaws open and gaping: the wife and daughters +of the goodman and other women of the folk stood about the bier +singing some old song in a low voice, and some sobbing therewithal, +for the man was much beloved: and much people of the Woodlanders was +in the hall, and it was somewhat dusk within. + +So the Burgstead men greeted that folk kindly and humbly, and again +they fell to praising the dead man, saying how his deed should long +be remembered in the Dale and wide about; and they called him a +fearless man and of great worth. And the women hearkened, and ceased +their crooning and their sobbing, and stood up proudly and raised +their heads with gleaming eyes; and as the words of the Burgstead men +ended, they lifted up their voices and sang loudly and clearly, +standing together in a row, ten of them, on the dais of that poor +hall, facing the gable and the wolf-adorned tie-beam, heeding nought +as they sang what was about or behind them. + +And this is some of what they sang: + + +Why sit ye bare in the spinning-room? +Why weave ye naked at the loom? + +Bare and white as the moon we be, +That the Earth and the drifting night may see. + +Now what is the worst of all your work? +What curse amidst the web shall lurk? + +The worst of the work our hands shall win +Is wrack and ruin round the kin. + +Shall the woollen yarn and the flaxen thread +Be gear for living men or dead? + +The woollen yarn and the flaxen thread +Shall flare 'twixt living men and dead. + +O what is the ending of your day? +When shall ye rise and wend away? + +Our day shall end to-morrow morn, +When we hear the voice of the battle-horn. + +Where first shall eyes of men behold +This weaving of the moonlight cold? + +There where the alien host abides +The gathering on the Mountain-sides. + +How long aloft shall the fair web fly +When the bows are bent and the spears draw nigh? + +From eve to morn and morn till eve +Aloft shall fly the work we weave. + +What then is this, the web ye win? +What wood-beast waxeth stark therein? + +We weave the Wolf and the gift of war +From the men that were to the men that are. + + +So sang they: and much were all men moved at their singing, and +there was none but called to mind the old days of the Fathers, and +the years when their banner went wide in the world. + +But the Woodlanders feasted them of Burgstead what they might, and +then went the Dalesmen back to their houses; but on the morrow's +morrow they fared thither again, and Wood-grey was laid in mound +amidst a great assemblage of the Folk. + +Many men said that there was no doubt that those two felons were of +the company of those who had ransacked the steads of Penny-thumb and +Harts-bane; and so at first deemed Bristler the son of Brightling: +but after a while, when he had had time to think of it, he changed +his mind; for he said that such men as these would have slain first +and ransacked afterwards: and some who loved neither Penny-thumb nor +Harts-bane said that they would not have been at the pains to choose +for ransacking the two worst men about the Dale, whose loss was no +loss to any but themselves. + +As for Gold-mane he knew not what to think, except that his friends +of the Mountain had had nought to do with it. + +So wore the days awhile. + + + +CHAPTER XVI. THE BRIDE SPEAKETH WITH FACE-OF-GOD + + + +February had died into March, and March was now twelve days old, on a +fair and sunny day an hour before noon; and Face-of-god was in a +meadow a scant mile down the Dale from Burgstead. He had been +driving a bull into a goodman's byre nearby, and had had to spend +toil and patience both in getting him out of the fields and into the +byre; for the beast was hot with the spring days and the new grass. +So now he was resting himself in happy mood in an exceeding pleasant +place, a little meadow to wit, on one side whereof was a great +orchard or grove of sweet chestnuts, which went right up to the feet +of the Southern Cliffs: across the meadow ran a clear brook towards +the Weltering Water, free from big stones, in some places dammed up +for the flooding of the deep pasture-meadow, and with the grass +growing on its lips down to the very water. There was a low bank +just outside the chestnut trees, as if someone had raised a dyke +about them when they were young, which had been trodden low and +spreading through the lapse of years by the faring of many men and +beasts. The primroses bloomed thick upon it now, and here and there +along it was a low blackthorn bush in full blossom; from the mid- +meadow and right down to the lip of the brook was the grass well nigh +hidden by the blossoms of the meadow-saffron, with daffodils +sprinkled about amongst them, and in the trees and bushes the birds, +and chiefly the blackbirds, were singing their loudest. + +There sat Face-of-god on the bank resting after his toil, and happy +was his mood; since in two days' wearing he should be pacing the +Maiden Ward awaiting the token that was to lead him to Shadowy Vale; +so he sat calling to mind the Friend as he had last seen her, and +striving as it were to set her image standing on the flowery grass +before him, till all the beauty of the meadow seemed bare and empty +to him without her. Then it fell into his mind that this had been a +beloved trysting-place betwixt him and the Bride, and that often when +they were little would they come to gather chestnuts in the grove, +and thereafter sit and prattle on the old dyke; or in spring when the +season was warm would they go barefoot into the brook, seeking its +treasures of troutlets and flowers and clean-washed agate pebbles. +Yea, and time not long ago had they met here to talk as lovers, and +sat on that very bank in all the kindness of good days without a +blemish, and both he and she had loved the place well for its wealth +of blossoms and deep grass and goodly trees and clear running stream. + +As he thought of all this, and how often there he had praised to +himself her beauty, which he scarce dared praise to her, he frowned +and slowly rose to his feet, and turned toward the chestnut-grove, as +though he would go thence that way; but or ever he stepped down from +the dyke he turned about again, and even therewith, like the very +image and ghost of his thought, lo! the Bride herself coming up from +out the brook and wending toward him, her wet naked feet gleaming in +the sun as they trod down the tender meadow-saffron and brushed past +the tufts of daffodils. He stood staring at her discomforted, for on +that day he had much to think of that seemed happy to him, and he +deemed that she would now question him, and his mind pondered divers +ways of answering her, and none seemed good to him. She drew near +and let her skirts fall over her feet, and came to him, her gown hem +dragging over the flowers: then she stood straight up before him and +greeted him, but reached not forth her hand to him nor touched him. +Her face was paler that its wont, and her voice trembled as she spake +to him and said: + +'Face-of-god, I would ask thee a gift.' + +'All gifts,' he said, 'that thou mayest ask, and I may give, lie open +to thee.' + +She said: 'If I be alive when the time comes this gift thou mayst +well give me.' + +'Sweet kinswoman,' said he, 'tell me what it is that thou wouldest +have of me.' And he was ill-at-ease as he waited for her answer. + +She said: 'Ah, kinsman, kinsman! Woe on the day that maketh kinship +accursed to me because thou desirest it!' + +He held his peace and was exceeding sorry; and she said: + +'This is the gift that I ask of thee, that in the days to come when +thou art wedded, thou wilt give me the second man-child whom thou +begettest.' + +He said: 'This shalt thou have, and would that I might give thee +much more. Would that we were little children together other again, +as when we played here in other days.' + +She said: 'I would have a token of thee that thou shalt show to the +God, and swear on it to give me the gift. For the times change.' + +'What token wilt thou have?' said he. + +She said: 'When next thou farest to the Wood, thou shalt bring me +back, it maybe a flower from the bank ye sit upon, or a splinter from +the dais of the hall wherein ye feast, or maybe a ring or some matter +that the strangers are wont to wear. That shall be the token.' + +She spoke slowly, hanging her head adown, but she lifted it presently +and looked into his face and said: + +'Woe's me, woe's me, Gold-mane! How evil is this day, when bewailing +me I may not bewail thee also! For I know that thine heart is glad. +All through the winter have I kept this hidden in my heart, and durst +not speak to thee. But now the spring-tide hath driven me to it. +Let summer come, and who shall say?' + +Great was his grief, and his shame kept him silent, and he had no +word to say; and again she said: + +'Tell me, Gold-mane, when goest thou thither?' + +He said: 'I know not surely, may happen in two days, may happen in +ten. Why askest thou?' + +'O friend!' she said, 'is it a new thing that I should ask thee +whither thou goest and whence thou comest, and the times of thy +coming and going. Farewell to-day! Forget not the token. Woe's me, +that I may not kiss thy fair face!' + +She spread her arms abroad and lifted up her face as one who waileth, +but no sound came from her lips; then she turned about and went away +as she had come. + +But as for him he stood there after she was gone in all confusion, as +if he were undone: for he felt his manhood lessened that he should +thus and so sorely have hurt a friend, and in a manner against his +will. And yet he was somewhat wroth with her, that she had come upon +him so suddenly, and spoken to him with such mastery, and in so few +words, and he with none to make answer to her, and that she had so +marred his pleasure and his hope of that fair day. Then he sat him +down again on the flowery bank, and little by little his heart +softened, and he once more called to mind many a time when they had +been there before, and the plays and the games they had had together +there when they were little. And he bethought him of the days that +were long to him then, and now seemed short to him, and as if they +were all grown together into one story, and that a sweet one. Then +his breast heaved with a sob, and the tears rose to his eyes and +burned and stung him, and he fell a-weeping for that sweet tale, and +wept as he had wept once before on that old dyke when there had been +some child's quarrel between them, and she had gone away and left +him. + +Then after a while he ceased his weeping, and looked about him lest +anyone might be coming, and then he arose and went to and fro in the +chestnut-grove for a good while, and afterwards went his ways from +that meadow, saying to himself: 'Yet remaineth to me the morrow of +to-morrow, and that is the first of the days of the watching for the +token.' + +But all that day he was slow to meet the eyes of men; and in the hall +that eve he was silent and moody; for from time to time it came over +him that some of his manhood had departed from him. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. THE TOKEN COMETH FROM THE MOUNTAIN + + + +The next day wore away tidingless; and the day after Face-of-god +arose betimes; for it was the first day of his watch, and he was at +the Maiden Ward before the time appointed on a very fair and bright +morning, and he went to and fro on that place, and had no tidings. +So he came away somewhat cast down, and said within himself: 'Is it +but a lie and a mocking when all is said?' + +On the morrow he went thither again, and the morn was wild and stormy +with drift of rain, and low clouds hurrying over the earth, though +for the sunrise they lifted a little in the east, and the sun came up +over the passes, amidst the red and angry rack of clouds. This morn +also gave him no tidings of the token, and he was wroth and perturbed +in spirit: but towards evening he said: + +'It is well: ten days she gave me, so that she might be able to send +without fail on one of them; she will not fail me.' + +So again on the morrow he was there betimes, and the morn was windy +as on the day before, but the clouds higher and of better promise for +the day. Face-of-god walked to and fro on the Maiden Ward, and as he +turned toward Burgstead for the tenth time, he heard, as he deemed, a +bow-string twang afar off, and even therewith came a shaft flying +heavily like a winged bird, which smote a great standing stone on the +other side of the way, where of old some chieftain had been buried, +and fell to earth at its foot. He went up to it and handled it, and +saw that there was a piece of thin parchment wrapped about it, which +indeed he was eager to unwrap at once, but forebore; because he was +on the highway, and people were already astir, and even then passed +by him a goodman of the Dale with a man of his going afield together, +and they gave him the sele of the day. So he went along the highway +a little till he came to a place where was a footbridge over into the +meadow. He crossed thereby and went swiftly till he reached a rising +ground grown over with hazel-trees; there he sat down among the +rabbit-holes, the primrose and wild-garlic blooming about him, and +three blackbirds answering one another from the edges of the coppice. +Straightway when he had looked and seen none coming he broke the +threads that were wound about the scroll and the arrow, and unrolled +the parchment; and there was writing thereon in black ink of small +letters, but very fair, and this is what he read therein: + + +Come thou to the Mountain Hall by the path which thou knowest of, on +the morrow of the day whereon thou readest this. Rise betimes and +come armed, for there are other men than we in the wood; to whom thy +death should be a gain. When thou art come to the Hall, thou shalt +find no man therein; but a great hound only, tied to a bench nigh the +dais. Call him by his name, Sure-foot to wit, and give him to eat +from the meat upon the board, and give him water to drink. If the +day is then far spent, as it is like to be, abide thou with the hound +in the hall through the night, and eat of what thou shalt find there; +but see that the hound fares not abroad till the morrow's morn: then +lead him out and bring him to the north-east corner of the Hall, and +he shall lift the slot for thee that leadeth to the Shadowy Yale. +Follow him and all good go with thee. + + +Now when he had read this, earth seemed fair indeed about him, and he +scarce knew whither to turn or what to do to make the most of his +joy. He presently went back to Burgstead and into the House of the +Face, where all men were astir now, and the day was clearing. He hid +the shaft under his kirtle, for he would not that any should see it; +so he went to his shut-bed and laid it up in his chest, wherein he +kept his chiefest treasures; but the writing on the scroll he set in +his bosom and so hid it. He went joyfully and proudly, as one who +knoweth more tidings and better than those around him. But Stone- +face beheld him, and said 'Foster-son, thou art happy. Is it that +the spring-tide is in thy blood, and maketh thee blithe with all +things, or hast thou some new tidings? Nay, I would not have an +answer out of thee; but here is good rede: when next thou goest into +the wood, it were nought so ill for thee to have a valiant old carle +by thy side; one that loveth thee, and would die for thee if need +were; one who might watch when thou wert seeking. Or else beware! +for there are evil things abroad in the Wood, and moreover the +brethren of those two felons who were slain at Carlstead.' + +Then Gold-mane constrained himself to answer the old carle softly; +and he thanked him kindly for his offer, and said that so it should +be before long. So the talk between them fell, and Stone-face went +away somewhat well-pleased. + +And now was Face-of-god become wary; and he would not draw men's eyes +and speech on him; so he went afield with Hall-face to deal with the +lambs and the ewes, and did like other men. No less wary was he in +the hall that even, and neither spake much nor little; and when his +father spake to him concerning the Bride, and made game of him as a +somewhat sluggish groom, he did not change countenance, but answered +lightly what came to hand. + +On the morrow ere the earliest dawn he was afoot, and he clad himself +and did on his hauberk, his father's work, which was fine-wrought and +a stout defence, and reached down to his knees; and over that he did +on a goodly green kirtle well embroidered: he girt his war-sword to +his side, and it was the work of his father's father, and a very good +sword: its name was Dale-warden. He did a good helm on his head, +and slung a targe at his back, and took two spears in his hand, short +but strong-shafted and well-steeled. Thus arrayed he left Burgstead +before the dawn, and came to Wildlake's Way and betook him to the +Woodland. He made no stop or stay on the path, but ate his meat +standing by an oak-tree close by the half-blind track. When he came +to the little wood-lawn, where was the toft of the ancient house, he +looked all round about him, for he deemed that a likely place for +those ugly wood-wights to set on him; but nought befell him, though +he stooped and drank of the woodland rill warily enough. So he +passed on; and there were other places also where he fared warily, +because they seemed like to hold lurking felons; though forsooth the +whole wood might well serve their turn. But no evil befell him, and +at last, when it yet lacked an hour to sunset, he came to the wood- +lawn where Wild-wearer had made his onset that other eve. + +He went straight up to the house, his heart beating, and he scarce +believing but that he should find the Friend abiding him there: but +when he pushed the door it gave way before him at once, and he +entered and found no man therein, and the walls stripped bare and no +shield or weapon hanging on the panels. But the hound he saw tied to +a bench nigh the dais, and the bristles on the beast's neck arose, +and he snarled on Face-of-god, and strained on his leathern leash. +Then Face-of-god went up to him and called him by his name, Sure- +foot, and gave him his hand to lick, and he brought him water, and +fed him with flesh from the meat on the board; so the beast became +friendly and wagged his tail and whined and slobbered his hand. + +Then he went all about the house, and saw and heard no living thing +therein save the mice in the panels and Sure-foot. So he came back +to the dais, and sat him down at the board and ate his fill, and +thought concerning his case. And it came into his mind that the +Woman of the Mountain had some deed for him to do which would try his +manliness and exalt his fame; and his heart rose high and he was +glad, and he saw himself sitting beside her on the dais of a very +fair hall beloved and honoured of all the folk, and none had aught to +say against him or owed him any grudge. Thus he pleased himself in +thinking of the good days to come, sitting there till the hall grew +dusk and dark and the night-wind moaned about it. + +Then after a while he arose and raked together the brands on the +hearth, and made light in the hall and looked to the door. And he +found there were bolts and bars thereto, so he shot the bolts and +drew the bars into their places and made all as sure as might be. +Then he brought Sure-foot down from the dais, and tied him up so that +he might lie down athwart the door, and then lay down his hauberk +with his naked sword ready to his hand, and slept long while. + +When he awoke it was darker than when he had lain him for the moon +had set; yet he deemed that the day was at point of breaking. So he +fetched water and washed the night off him, and saw a little glimmer +of the dawn. Then he ate somewhat of the meat on the board, and did +on his helm and his other gear, and unbarred the door, and led Sure- +foot without, and brought him to the north-east corner of the house, +and in a little while he lifted the slot and they departed, the man +and the hound, just as broke dawn from over the mountains. + +Sure-foot led right into the heart of the pine-wood, and it was dark +enough therein, with nought but a feeble glimmer for some while, and +long was the way therethrough; but in two hours' space was there +something of a break, and they came to the shore of a dark deep tarn +on whose windless and green waters the daylight shone fully. The +hound skirted the water, and led on unchecked till the trees began to +grow smaller and the air colder for all that the sun was higher; for +they had been going up and up all the way. + +So at last after a six hours' journey they came clean out of the +pine-wood, and before them lay the black wilderness of the bare +mountains, and beyond them, looking quite near now, the great ice- +peaks, the wall of the world. It was but an hour short of noon by +this time, and the high sun shone down on a barren boggy moss which +lay betwixt them and the rocky waste. Sure-foot made no stay, but +threaded the ways that went betwixt the quagmires, and in another +hour led Face-of-god into a winding valley blinded by great rocks, +and everywhere stony and rough, with a trickle of water running +amidst of it. The hound fared on up the dale to where the water was +bridged by a great fallen stone, and so over it and up a steep bent +on the further side, on to a marvellously rough mountain-neck, whiles +mere black sand cumbered with scattered rocks and stones, whiles +beset with mires grown over with the cottony mire-grass; here and +there a little scanty grass growing; otherwhere nought but dwarf +willow ever dying ever growing, mingled with moss or red-blossomed +sengreen; and all blending together into mere desolation. + +Few living things they saw there; up on the neck a few sheep were +grazing the scanty grass, but there was none to tend them; yet Face- +of-god deemed the sight of them good, for there must be men anigh who +owned them. For the rest, the whimbrel laughed across the mires; +high up in heaven a great eagle was hanging; once and again a grey +fox leapt up before them, and the heath-fowl whirred up from under +Face-of-god's feet. A raven who was sitting croaking on a rock in +that first dale stirred uneasily on his perch as he saw them, and +when they were passed flapped his wings and flew after them croaking +still. + +Now they fared over that neck somewhat east, making but slow way +because the ground was so broken and rocky; and in another hour's +space Sure-foot led down-hill due east to where the stony neck sank +into another desolate miry heath still falling toward the east, but +whose further side was walled by a rampart of crags cleft at their +tops into marvellous-shapes, coal-black, ungrassed and unmossed. +Thitherward the hound led straight, and Gold-mane followed wondering: +as he drew near them he saw that they were not very high, the tallest +peak scant fifty feet from the face of the heath. + +They made their way through the scattered rocks at the foot of these +crags, till, just where the rock-wall seemed the closest, the way +through the stones turned into a path going through it skew-wise; and +it was now so clear a path that belike it had been bettered by men's +hands. Down thereby Face-of-god followed the hound, deeming that he +was come to the gates of the Shadowy Vale, and the path went down +steeply and swiftly. But when he had gone down a while, the rocks on +his right hand sank lower for a space, so that he could look over and +see what lay beneath. + +There lay below him a long narrow vale quite plain at the bottom, +walled on the further side as on the hither by sheer rocks of black +stone. The plain was grown over with grass, but he could see no tree +therein: a deep river, dark and green, ran through the vale, +sometimes through its midmost, sometimes lapping the further rock- +wall: and he thought indeed that on many a day in the year the sun +would never shine on that valley. + +Thus much he saw, and then the rocks rose again and shut it from his +sight; and at last they drew so close together over head that he was +in a way going through a cave with little daylight coming from above, +and in the end he was in a cave indeed and mere darkness: but with +the last feeble glimmer of light he thought he saw carved on a smooth +space of the living rock at his left hand the image of a wolf. + +This cave lasted but a little way, and soon the hound and the man +were going once more between sheer black rocks, and the path grew +steeper yet and was cut into steps. At last there was a sharp turn, +and they stood on the top of a long stony scree, down which Sure-foot +bounded eagerly, giving tongue as he went; but Face-of-god stood +still and looked, for now the whole Dale lay open before him. + +That river ran from north to south, and at the south end the cliffs +drew so close to it that looking thence no outgate could be seen; but +at the north end there was as it were a dreary street of rocks, the +river flowing amidmost and leaving little foothold on either side, +somewhat as it was with the pass leading from the mountains into +Burgdale. + +Amidmost of the Dale a little toward the north end he saw a doom-ring +of black stones, and hard by it an ancient hall builded of the same +black stone both wall and roof, and thitherward was Sure-foot now +running. Face-of-god looked up and down the Dale and could see no +break in the wall of sheer rock: toward the southern end he saw a +few booths and cots built roughly of stone and thatched with turf; +thereabout he saw a few folk moving about, the most of whom seemed to +be women and children; there were some sheep and lambs near these +cots, and a herd of fifty or so of somewhat goodly mountain-kine were +feeding higher up the valley. He could look down into the river from +where he stood, and he saw that it ran between rocky banks going +straight down from the face of the meadow, which was rather high +above the water, so that it seemed little likely that the water +should rise over its banks, either in summer or winter; and in summer +was it like to be highest, because the vale was so near to the high +mountains and their snows. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. FACE-OF-GOD TALKETH WITH THE FRIEND IN SHADOWY VALE + + + +It was now about two hours after noon, and a broad band of sunlight +lay upon the grass of the vale below Gold-mane's feet; he went +lightly down the scree, and strode forward over the level grass +toward the Doom-ring, his helm and war-gear glittering bright in the +sun. He must needs go through the Doom-ring to come to the Hall, and +as he stepped out from behind the last of the big upright-stones, he +saw a woman standing on the threshold of the Hall-door, which was but +some score of paces from him, and knew her at once for the Friend. + +She was clad like himself in a green kirtle gaily embroidered and +fitting close to her body, and had no gown or cloak over it; she had +a golden fillet on her head beset with blue mountain stones, and her +hair hung loose behind her. + +Her beauty was so exceeding, and so far beyond all memory of her that +his mind had held, that once more fear of her fell upon Face-of-god, +and he stood still with beating heart till she should speak to him. +But she came forward swiftly with both her hands held out, smiling +and happy-faced, and looking very kindly on him, and she took his +hands and said to him: + +'Now welcome, Gold-mane, welcome, Face-of-god! and twice welcome art +thou and threefold. Lo! this is the day that thou asked for: art +thou happy in it?' + +He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them timorously, but said +nought; and therewithal Sure-foot came running forth from the Hall, +and fell to bounding round about them, barking noisily after the +manner of dogs who have met their masters again; and still she held +his hands and beheld him kindly. Then she called the hound to her, +and patted him on the neck and quieted him, and then turned to Face- +of-god and laughed happily and said: + +'I do not bid thee hold thy peace; yet thou sayest nought. Is well +with thee?' + +'Yea,' he said, 'and more than well.' + +'Thou seemest to me a goodly warrior,' she said; 'hast thou met any +foemen yesterday or this morning?' + +'Nay,' said he, 'none hindered me; thou hast made the ways easy to +me.' + +She said soberly, 'Such as I might do, I did. But we may not wield +everything, for our foes are many, and I feared for thee. But come +thou into our house, which is ours, and far more ours than the booth +before the pine-wood.' + +She took his hand again and led him toward the door, but Face-of-god +looked up, and above the lintel he saw carved on the dark stone that +image of the Wolf, even as he had seen it carved on Wood-grey's tie- +beam; and therewith such thoughts came into his mind that he stopped +to look, pressing the Friend's hand hard as though bidding her note +it. The stone wherein the image was carved was darker than the other +building stones, and might be called black; the jaws of the wood- +beast were open and gaping, and had been painted with cinnabar, but +wind and weather had worn away the most of the colour. + +Spake the Friend: 'So it is: thou beholdest the token of the God +and Father of out Fathers, that telleth the tale of so many days, +that the days which now pass by us be to them but as the drop in the +sea of waters. Thou beholdest the sign of our sorrow, the memory of +our wrong; yet is it also the token of our hope. Maybe it shall lead +thee far.' + +'Whither?' said he. But she answered not a great while, and he +looked at her as she stood a-gazing on the image, and saw how the +tears stole out of her eyes and ran adown her cheeks. Then again +came the thought to him of Wood-grey's hall, and the women of the +kindred standing before the Wolf and singing of him; and though there +was little comeliness in them and she was so exceeding beauteous, he +could not but deem that they were akin to her. + +But after a while she wiped the tears from her face and turned to him +and said: 'My friend, the Wolf shall lead thee no-whither but where +I also shall be, whatsoever peril or grief may beset the road or lurk +at the ending thereof. Thou shalt be no thrall, to labour while I +look on.' + +His heart swelled within him as she spoke, and he was at point to +beseech her love that moment; but now her face had grown gay and +bright again, and she said while he was gathering words to speak +withal: + +'Come in, Gold-mane, come into our house; for I have many things to +say to thee. And moreover thou art so hushed, and so fearsome in thy +mail, that I think thou yet deemest me to be a Wight of the Waste, +such as Stone-face thy Fosterer told thee tales of, and forewarned +thee. So would I eat before thee, and sign the meat with the sign of +the Earth-god's Hammer, to show thee that he is in error concerning +me, and that I am a very woman flesh and fell, as my kindred were +before me.' + +He laughed and was exceeding glad, and said: 'Tell me now, kind +friend, dost thou deem that Stone-face's tales are mere mockery of +his dreams, and that he is beguiled by empty semblances or less? Or +are there such Wights in the Waste.' + +'Nay,' she said, 'the man is a true man; and of these things are +there many ancient tales which we may not doubt. Yet so it is that +such wights have I never yet seen, nor aught to scare me save evil +men: belike it is that I have been over-much busied in dealing with +sorrow and ruin to look after them: or it may be that they feared me +and the wrath-breeding grief of the kindred.' + +He looked at her earnestly, and the wisdom of her heart seemed to +enter into his; but she said: 'It is of men we must talk, and of me +and thee. Come with me, my friend.' + +And she stepped lightly over the threshold and drew him in. The Hall +was stern and grim and somewhat dusky, for its windows were but +small: it was all of stone, both walls and roof. There was no +timber-work therein save the benches and chairs, a little about the +doors at the lower end that led to the buttery and out-bowers; and +this seemed to have been wrought of late years; yea, the chairs +against the gable on the dais were of stone built into the wall, +adorned with carving somewhat sparingly, the image of the Wolf being +done over the midmost of them. He looked up and down the Hall, and +deemed it some seventy feet over all from end to end; and he could +see in the dimness those same goodly hangings on the wall which he +had seen in the woodland booth. + +She led him up to the dais, and stood there leaning up against the +arm of one of those stone seats silent for a while; then she turned +and looked at him, and said: + +'Yea, thou lookest a goodly warrior; yet am I glad that thou camest +hither without battle. Tell me, Gold-mane,' she said, taking one of +his spears from his hand, 'art thou deft with the spear?' + +'I have been called so,' said he. + +She looked at him sweetly and said: 'Canst thou show me the feat of +spear-throwing in this Hall, or shall we wend outside presently that +I may see thee throw?' + +'The Hall sufficeth,' he said. 'Shall I set this steel in the lintel +of the buttery door yonder?' + +'Yea, if thou canst,' she said. + +He smiled and took the spear from her, and poised it and shook it +till it quivered again, then suddenly drew back his arm and cast, and +the shaft sped whistling down the dim hall, and smote the aforesaid +door-lintel and stuck there quivering: then he sprang down from the +dais, and ran down the hall, and put forth his hand and pulled it +forth from the wood, and was on the dais again in a trice, and cast +again, and the second time set the spear in the same place, and then +took his other spear from the board and cast it, and there stood the +two staves in the wood side by side; then he went soberly down the +hall and drew them both out of the wood and came back to her, while +she stood watching him, her cheek flushed, her lips a little parted. + +She said: 'Good spear-casting, forsooth! and far above what our folk +can do, who be no great throwers of the spear.' + +Gold-mane laughed: 'Sooth is that,' said he, 'or hardly were I here +to teach thee spear-throwing.' + +'Wilt thou NEVER be paid for that simple onslaught?' she said. + +'Have I been paid then?' said he. + +She reddened, for she remembered her word to him on the mountain; and +he put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek, but timorously; +nor did she withstand him or shrink aback, but said soberly: + +'Good indeed is thy spear-throwing, and meseems my brother will love +thee when he hath seen thee strike a stroke or two in wrath. But, +fair warrior, there be no foemen here: so get thee to the lower end +of the Hall, and in the bower beyond shalt thou find fresh water; +there wash the waste from off thee, and do off thine helm and +hauberk, and come back speedily and eat with me; for I hunger, and so +dost thou.' + +He did as she bade him, and came back presently bearing in his hand +both helm and hauberk, and he looked light-limbed and trim and +lissome, an exceeding goodly man. + + + +CHAPTER XIX. THE FAIR WOMAN TELLETH FACE-OF-GOD OF HER KINDRED + + + +When he came back to the dais he saw that there was meat upon the +board, and the Friend said to him: + +'Now art thou Gold-mane indeed: but come now, sit by me and eat, +though the Wood-woman giveth thee but a sorry banquet, O guest; but +from the Dale it is, and we be too far now from the dwellings of men +to have delicate meat on the board, though to-night when they come +back thy cheer shall be better. Yet even then thou shalt have no +such dainties as Stone-face hath imagined for thee at the hands of +the Wood-wight.' + +She laughed therewith, and he no less; and in sooth the meat was but +simple, of curds and new cheese, meat of the herdsmen. But Face-of- +god said gaily: 'Sweet it shall be to me; good is all that the +Friend giveth.' + +Then she raised her hand and made the sign of the Hammer over the +board, and looked up at him and said: + +'Hath the Earth-god changed my face, Gold-mane, to what I verily am?' + +He held his face close to hers and looked into it, and him-seemed it +was as pure as the waters of a mountain lake, and as fine and well- +wrought every deal of it as when his father had wrought in his stithy +many days and fashioned a small piece of great mastery. He was +ashamed to kiss her again, but he said to himself, 'This is the +fairest woman of the world, whom I have sworn to wed this year.' +Then he spake aloud and said: + +'I see the face of the Friend, and it will not change to me.' + +Again she reddened a little, and the happy look in her face seemed to +grow yet sweeter, and he was bewildered with longing and delight. + +But she stood up and went to an ambrye in the wall and brought forth +a horn shod and lipped with silver of ancient fashion, and she poured +wine into it and held it forth and said: + +'O guest from the Dale, I pledge thee! and when thou hast drunk to me +in turn we will talk of weighty matters. For indeed I bear hopes in +my hands too heavy for the daughters of men to bear; and thou art a +chieftain's son, and mayst well help me to bear them; so let us talk +simply and without guile, as folk that trust one another.' + +So she drank and held out the horn to him, and he took the horn and +her hand both, and he kissed her hand and said: + +'Here in this Hall I drink to the Sons of the Wolf, whosoever they +be.' Therewith he drank and he said: 'Simply and guilelessly indeed +will I talk with thee; for I am weary of lies, and for thy sake have +I told a many.' + +'Thou shalt tell no more,' she said; 'and as for the health thou hast +drunk, it is good, and shall profit thee. Now sit we here in these +ancient seats and let us talk.' + +So they sat them down while the sun was westering in the March +afternoon, and she said: + +'Tell me first what tidings have been in the Dale.' + +So he told her of the ransackings and of the murder at Carlstead. + +She said: 'These tidings have we heard before, and some deal of them +we know better than ye do, or can; for we were the ransackers of +Penny-thumb and Harts-bane. Thereof will I say more presently. What +other tidings hast thou to tell of? What oaths were sworn upon the +Boar last Yule?' + +So he told her of the oath of Bristler the son of Brightling. She +smiled and said: 'He shall keep his oath, and yet redden no blade.' + +Then he told of his father's oath, and she said: + +'It is good; but even so would he do and no oath sworn. All men may +trust Iron-face. And thou, my friend, what oath didst thou swear?' + +His face grew somewhat troubled as he said: 'I swore to wed the +fairest woman in the world, though the Dalesmen gainsaid me, and they +beyond the Dale.' + +'Yea,' she said, 'and there is no need to ask thee whom thou didst +mean by thy "fairest woman," for I have seen that thou deemest me +fair enough. My friend, maybe thy kindred will be against it, and +the kindred of the Bride; and it might be that my kindred would have +gainsaid it if things were not as they are. But though all men +gainsay it, yet will not I. It is meet and right that we twain wed.' + +She spake very soberly and quietly, but when she had spoken there was +nothing in his heart but joy and gladness: yet shame of her +loveliness refrained him, and he cast down his eyes before hers. +Then she said in a kind voice: + +'I know thee, how glad thou art of this word of mine, because thou +lookest on me with eyes of love, and thinkest of me as better than I +am; though I am no ill woman and no beguiler. But this is not all +that I have to say to thee, though it be much; for there are more +folk in the world than thou and I only. But I told thee this first, +that thou mightest trust me in all things. So, my friend, if thou +canst, refrain thy joy and thy longing a little, and hearken to what +concerneth thee and me, and thy people and mine.' + +'Fair woman and sweet friend,' he said, 'thou knowest of a gladness +which is hard to bear if one must lay it aside for a while; and of a +longing which is hard to refrain if it mingle with another longing-- +knowest thou not?' + +'Yea,' she said, 'I know it.' + +'Yet,' said Face-of-god, 'I will forbear as thou biddest me. Tell +me, then, what were the felons who were slain at Carlstead? Knowest +thou of them?' + +'Over well,' she said, 'they are our foes this many a year; and since +we met last autumn they have become foes of you Dalesmen also. Soon +shall ye have tidings of them; and it was against them that I bade +thee arm yesterday.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Is it against them that thou wouldst have us do +battle along with thy folk?' + +'So it is,' she said; 'no other foemen have we. And now, Gold-mane, +thou art become a friend of the Wolf, and shalt before long be of +affinity with our House; that other day thou didst ask me to tell +thee of me and mine, and now will I do according to thine asking. +Short shall my tale be; because maybe thou shalt hear it told again, +and in goodly wise, before thine whole folk. + +'As thou wottest we be now outlaws and Wolves' Heads; and whiles we +lift the gear of men, but ever if we may of ill men and not of good; +there is no worthy goodman of the Dale from whom we would take one +hoof, or a skin of wine, or a cake of wax. + +'Wherefore are we outlaws? Because we have been driven from our own, +and we bore away our lives and our weapons, and little else; and for +our lands, thou seest this Vale in the howling wilderness and how +narrow and poor it is, though it hath been the nurse of warriors in +time past. + +'Hearken! Time long ago came the kindred of the Wolf to these +Mountains of the World; and they were in a pass in the stony maze and +the utter wilderness of the Mountains, and the foe was behind them in +numbers not to be borne up against. And so it befell that the pass +forked, and there were two ways before our Folk; and one part of them +would take the way to the north and the other the way to the south; +and they could not agree which way the whole Folk should take. So +they sundered into two companies, and one took one way and one +another. Now as to those who fared by the southern road, we knew not +what befell them, nor for long and long had we any tale of them. + +'But we who took the northern road, we happened on this Vale amidst +the wilderness, and we were weary of fleeing from the over-mastering +foe; and the dale seemed enough, and a refuge, and a place to dwell +in, and no man was there before us, and few were like to find it, and +we were but a few. So we dwelt here in this Vale for as wild as it +is, the place where the sun shineth never in the winter, and scant is +the summer sunshine therein. Here we raised a Doom-ring and builded +us a Hall, wherein thou now sittest beside me, O friend, and we dwelt +here many seasons. + +'We had a few sheep in the wilderness, and a few neat fed down the +grass of the Vale; and we found gems and copper in the rocks about us +wherewith at whiles to chaffer with the aliens, and fish we drew from +our river the Shivering Flood. Also it is not to be hidden that in +those days we did not spare to lift the goods of men; yea, whiles +would our warriors fare down unto the edges of the Plain and lie in +wait there till the time served, and then drive the spoil from under +the very walls of the Cities. Our men were not little-hearted, nor +did our women lament the death of warriors over-much, for they were +there to bear more warriors to the Folk. + +'But the seasons passed, and the Folk multiplied in Shadowy Vale, and +livelihood seemed like to fail them, and needs must they seek wider +lands. So by ways which thou wilt one day wot of, we came into a +valley that lieth north-west of Shadowy Vale: a land like thine of +Burgdale, or better; wide it was, plenteous of grass and trees, well +watered, full of all things that man can desire. + +'Were there men before us in this Dale? sayest thou. Yea, but not +very many, and they feeble in battle, weak of heart, though strong of +body. These, when they saw the Sons of the Wolf with weapons in +their hands, felt themselves puny before us, and their hearts failed +them; and they came to us with gifts, and offered to share the Dale +between them and us, for they said there was enough for both folks. +So we took their offer and became their friends; and some of our +Houses wedded wives of the strangers, and gave them their women to +wife. Therein they did amiss; for the blended Folk as the +generations passed became softer than our blood, and many were +untrusty and greedy and tyrannous, and the days of the whoredom fell +upon us, and when we deemed ourselves the mightiest then were we the +nearest to our fall. But the House whereof I am would never wed with +these Westlanders, and other Houses there were who had affinity with +us who chiefly wedded with us of the Wolf, and their fathers had come +with ours into that fruitful Dale; and these were called the Red +Hand, and the Silver Arm, and the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged +Sword. Thou hast heard those names once before, friend?' + +'Yea,' he said, and as he spoke the picture of that other day came +back to him, and he called to mind all that he had said, and his +happiness of that hour seemed the more and the sweeter for that +memory. + +She went on: 'Fair and goodly is that Dale as mine own eyes have +seen, and plentiful of all things, and up in its mountains to the +east are caves and pits whence silver is digged abundantly; therefore +is the Dale called Silver-dale. Hast thou heard thereof, my friend?' + +'Nay,' said Face-of-god, 'though I have marvelled whence ye gat such +foison of silver.' + +He looked on her and marvelled, for now she seemed as if it were +another woman: her eyes were gleaming bright, her lips were parted; +there was a bright red flush on the pommels of her two cheeks as she +spake again and said: + +'Happy lived the Folk in Silver-dale for many and many winters and +summers: the seasons were good and no lack was there: little +sickness there was and less war, and all seemed better than well. It +is strange that ye Dalesmen have not heard of Silver-dale.' + +'Nay,' said he, 'but I have not; of Rose-dale have I heard, as a land +very far away: but no further do we know of toward that airt. Lieth +Silver-dale anywhere nigh to Rose-dale?' + +She said: 'It is the next dale to it, yet is it a far journey +betwixt the two, for the ice-sea pusheth a horn in betwixt them; and +even below the ice the mountain-neck is passable to none save a bold +crag-climber, and to him only bearing his life in his hands. But, my +friend, I am but lingering over my tale, because it grieveth me sore +to have to tell it. Hearken then! In the days when I had seen but +ten summers, and my brother was a very young man, but exceeding +strong, and as beautiful as thou art now, war fell on us without +rumour or warning; for there swarmed into Silver-dale, though not by +the ways whereby we had entered it, a host of aliens, short of +stature, crooked of limb, foul of aspect, but fierce warriors and +armed full well: they were men having no country to go back to, +though they had no women or children with them, as we had when we +were young in these lands, but used all women whom they took as their +beastly lust bade them, making them their thralls if they slew them +not. Soon we found that these foemen asked no more of us than all we +had, and therewithal our lives to be cast away or used for their +service as beasts of burden or pleasure. There then we gathered our +fighting-men and withstood them; and if we had been all of the +kindreds of the Wolf and the fruit of the wives of warriors, we +should have driven back these felons and saved the Dale, though it +maybe more than half ruined: but the most part of us were of that +mingled blood, or of the generations of the Dalesmen whom we had +conquered long ago, and stout as they were of body their hearts +failed them, and they gave themselves up to the aliens to be as their +oxen and asses. + +'Why make a long tale of it? We who were left, and could brook death +but not thraldom, fought it out together, women as well as men, till +the sweetness of life and a happy chance for escape bid us flee, +vanquished but free men. For at the end of three days' fight we had +been driven up to the easternmost end of the Dale, and up anigh to +the jaws of the pass whereby the Folk had first come into Silver- +dale, and we had those with us who knew every cranny of that way, +while to strangers who knew it not it was utterly impassable; night +was coming on also, and even those murder-carles were weary with +slaying; and, moreover, on this last day, when they saw that they had +won all, they were fighting to keep, and not to slay, and a few +stubborn carles and queens, of what use would they be, or where was +the gain of risking life to win them? + +'So they forbore us, and night came on moonless and dark; and it was +the early spring season, when the days are not yet long, and so by +night and cloud we fled away, and back again to Shadowy Vale. + +'Forsooth, we were but a few; for when we were gotten into this Vale, +this strip of grass and water in the wilderness, and had told up our +company, we were but two hundred and thirty and five of men and women +and children. For there were an hundred and thirty and three grown +men of all ages, and of women grown seventy and five, and one score +and seven children, whereof I was one; for, as thou mayst deem, it +was easier for grown men with weapons in their hands to escape from +that slaughter than for women and children. + +'There sat we in yonder Doom-ring and took counsel, and to some it +seemed good that we should all dwell together in Shadowy Vale, and +beset the skirts of the foemen till the days should better; but +others deemed that there was little avail therein; and there was a +mighty man of the kindred, Stone-wolf by name, a man of middle-age, +and he said, that late in life had he tasted of war, and though the +banquet was made bitter with defeat, yet did the meat seem wholesome +to him. "Come down with me to the Cities of the Plain," said he, +"all you who are stout warriors; and leave we here the old men and +the swains and the women and children. Hateful are the folk there, +and full of malice, but soft withal and dastardly. Let us go down +thither and make ourselves strong amongst them, and sell our valour +for their wealth till we come to rule them, and they make us their +kings, and we establish the Folk of the Wolf amongst the aliens; then +will we come back hither and bring away that which we have left." + +'So he spake, and the more part of the warriors yea said his rede, +and they went with him to the Westland, and amongst these was my +brother Folk-might (for that is his name in the kindred). And I +sorrowed at his departure, for he had borne me thither out of the +flames and the clash of swords and the press of battle, and to me had +he ever been kind and loving, albeit he hath had the Words of hard +and froward used on him full oft. + +'So in this Vale abode we that were left, and the seasons passed; +some of the elders died, and some of the children also; but more +children were born, for amongst us were men and women to whom it was +lawful to wed with each other. Even with this scanty remnant was +left some of the life of the kindred of old days; and after we had +been here but a little while, the young men, yea and the old also, +and even some of the women, would steal through passes that we, and +we only, knew of, and would fall upon the Aliens in Silver-dale as +occasion served, and lift their goods both live and dead; and this +became both a craft and a pastime amongst us. Nor may I hide that we +sometimes went lifting otherwhere; for in the summer and autumn we +would fare west a little and abide in the woods the season through, +and hunt the deer thereof, and whiles would we drive the spoil from +the scattered folk not far from your Shepherd-Folk; but with the +Shepherds themselves and with you Dalesmen we meddled not. + +'Now that little wood-lawn with the toft of an ancient dwelling in +it, wherein, saith Bow-may, thou didst once rest, was one of our +summer abodes; and later on we built the hall under the pine-wood +that thou knowest. + +'Thus then grew up our young men; and our maids were little softer; +e'en such as Bow-may is (and kind is she withal), and it seemed in +very sooth as if the Spirit of the Wolf was with us, and the +roughness of the Waste made us fierce; and law we had not and heeded +not, though love was amongst us.' + +She stopped awhile and fell a-musing, and her face softened, and she +turned to him with that sweet happy look upon it and said: + +'Desolate and dreary is the Dale, thou deemest, friend; and yet for +me I love it and its dark-green water, and it is to me as if the +Fathers of the kindred visit it and hold converse with us; and there +I grew up when I was little, before I knew what a woman was, and +strange communings had I with the wilderness. Friend, when we are +wedded, and thou art a great chieftain, as thou wilt be, I shall ask +of thee the boon to suffer me to abide here at whiles that I may +remember the days when I was little and the love of the kindred waxed +in me.' + +'This is but a little thing to ask,' said Face-of-god; 'I would thou +hadst asked me more.' + +'Fear not,' she said, 'I shall ask thee for much and many things; and +some of them belike thou shalt deny me.' + +He shook his head; but she smiled in his face and said: + +'Yea, so it is, friend; but hearken. The seasons passed, and six +years wore, and I was grown a tall slim maiden, fleet of foot and +able to endure toil enough, though I never bore weapons, nor have +done. So on a fair even of midsummer when we were together, the most +of us, round about this Hall and the Doom-ring, we saw a tall man in +bright war-gear come forth into the Dale by the path that thou +camest, and then another and another till there were two score and +seven men-at-arms standing on the grass below the scree yonder; by +that time had we gotten some weapons in our hands, and we stood +together to meet the new-comers, but they drew no sword and notched +no shaft, but came towards us laughing and joyous, and lo! it was my +brother Folk-might and his men, those that were left of them, come +back to us from the Westland. + +'Glad indeed was I to behold him; and for him when he had taken me in +his arms and looked up and down the Dale, he cried out: 'In many +fair places and many rich dwellings have I been; but this is the hour +that I have looked for.' + +'Now when we asked him concerning Stone-wolf and the others who were +missing (for ten tens of stalwarth men had fared to the Westland), he +swept out his hand toward the west and said with a solemn face: +"There they lie, and grass groweth over their bones, and we who have +come aback, and ye who have abided, these are now the children of the +Wolf: there are no more now on the earth." + +'Let be! It was a fair even and high was the feast in the Hall that +night, and sweet was the converse with our folk come back. A glad +man was my brother Folk-might when he heard that for years past we +had been lifting the gear of men, and chiefly of the Aliens in +Silver-dale: and he himself was become learned in war and a deft +leader of men. + +'So the days passed and the seasons, and we lived on as we might; but +with Folk-might's return there began to grow up in all our hearts +what had long been flourishing in mine, and that was the hope of one +day winning back our own again, and dying amidst the dear groves of +Silver-dale. Within these years we had increased somewhat in number; +for if we had lost those warriors in the Westland, and some old men +who had died in the Dale, yet our children had grown up (I have now +seen twenty and one summers) and more were growing up. Moreover, +after the first year, from the time when we began to fall upon the +Dusky Men of Silver-dale, from time to time they who went on such +adventures set free such thralls of our blood as they could fall in +with and whom they could trust in, and they dwelt (and yet dwell) +with us in the Dale: first and last we have taken in three score and +twelve of such men, and a score of women-thralls withal. + +'Now during these seasons, and not very long ago, after I was a woman +grown, the thought came to me, and to Folk-might also, that there +were kindreds of the people dwelling anear us whom we might so deal +with that they should become our friends and brothers in arms, and +that through them we might win back Silver-dale. + +'Of Rose-dale we wotted already that the Folk were nought of our +blood, feeble in the field, cowed by the Dusky Men, and at last made +thralls to them; so nought was to do there. But Folk-might went to +and fro to gather tidings: at whiles I with him, at whiles one or +more of Wood-father's children, who with their father and mother and +Bow-may have abided in the Vale ever since the Great Undoing. + +'Soon he fell in with thy Folk, and first of all with the +Woodlanders, and that was a joy to him; for wot ye what? He got to +know that these men were the children of those of our Folk who had +sundered from us in the mountain passes time long and long ago; and +he loved them, for he saw that they were hardy and trusty, and +warriors at heart. + +'Then he went amongst the Shepherd-Folk, and he deemed them good men +easily stirred, and deemed that they might soon be won to friendship; +and he knew that they were mostly come from the Houses of the +Woodlanders, so that they also were of the kindred. + +'And last he came into Burgdale, and found there a merry and happy +Folk, little wont to war, but stout-hearted, and nowise puny either +of body or soul; he went there often and learned much about them, and +deemed that they would not be hard to win to fellowship. And he +found that the House of the Face was the chiefest house there; and +that the Alderman and his sons were well beloved of all the folk, and +that they were the men to be won first, since through them should all +others be won. I also went to Burgstead with him twice, as I told +thee erst; and I saw thee, and I deemed that thou wouldest lightly +become our friend; and it came into my mind that I myself might wed +thee, and that the House of the Face thereby might have affinity +thenceforth with the Children of the Wolf.' + +He said: 'Why didst thou deem thus of me, O friend?' + +She laughed and said: 'Dost thou long to hear me say the words when +thou knowest my thought well? So be it. I saw thee both young and +fair; and I knew thee to be the son of a noble, worthy, guileless man +and of a beauteous woman of great wits and good rede. And I found +thee to be kind and open-handed and simple like thy father, and like +thy mother wiser than thou thyself knew of thyself; and that thou +wert desirous of deeds and fain of women.' + +She was silent for a while, and he also: then he said: 'Didst thou +draw me to the woods and to thee?' + +She reddened and said: 'I am no spell-wife: but true it is that +Wood-mother made a waxen image of thee, and thrust through the heart +thereof the pin of my girdle-buckle, and stroked it every morning +with an oak-bough over which she had sung spells. But dost thou not +remember, Gold-mane, how that one day last Hay-month, as ye were +resting in the meadows in the cool of the evening, there came to you +a minstrel that played to you on the fiddle, and therewith sang a +song that melted all your hearts, and that this song told of the +Wild-wood, and what was therein of desire and peril and beguiling and +death, and love unto Death itself? Dost thou remember, friend?' + +'Yea,' he said, 'and how when the minstrel was done Stone-face fell +to telling us more tales yet of the woodland, and the minstrel sang +again and yet again, till his tales had entered into my very heart.' + +'Yea,' she said, 'and that minstrel was Wood-wont; and I sent him to +sing to thee and thine, deeming that if thou didst hearken, thou +would'st seek the woodland and happen upon us.' + +He laughed and said: 'Thou didst not doubt but that if we met, thou +mightest do with me as thou wouldest?' + +'So it is,' she said, 'that I doubted it little.' + +'Therein wert thou wise,' said Face-of-god; 'but now that we are +talking without guile to each other, mightest thou tell me wherefore +it was that Folk-might made that onslaught upon me? For certain it +is that he was minded to slay me.' + +She said: 'It was sooth what I told thee, that whiles he groweth so +battle-eager that whatso edge-tool he beareth must needs come out of +the scabbard; but there was more in it than that, which I could not +tell thee erst. Two days before thy coming he had been down to +Burgstead in the guise of an old carle such as thou sawest him with +me in the market-place. There was he guested in your Hall, and once +more saw thee and the Bride together; and he saw the eyes of love +wherewith she looked on thee (for so much he told me), and deemed +that thou didst take her love but lightly. And he himself looked on +her with such love (and this he told me not) that he deemed nought +good enough for her, and would have had thee give thyself up wholly +to her; for my brother is a generous man, my friend. So when I told +him on the morn of that day whereon we met that we looked to see thee +that eve (for indeed I am somewhat foreseeing), he said: "Look thou, +Sun-beam, if he cometh, it is not unlike that I shall drive a spear +through him." "Wherefore?" said I; "can he serve our turn when he is +dead?" Said he: "I care little. Mine own turn will I serve. Thou +sayest WHEREFORE? I tell thee this stripling beguileth to her +torment the fairest woman that is in the world--such an one as is +meet to be the mother of chieftains, and to stand by warriors in +their day of peril. I have seen her; and thus have I seen her." +Then said I: "Greatly forsooth shalt thou pleasure her by slaying +him!" And he answered: "I shall pleasure myself. And one day she +shall thank me, when she taketh my hand in hers and we go together to +the Bride-bed." Therewith came over me a clear foresight of the +hours to come, and I said to him: "Yea, Folk-might, cast the spear +and draw the sword; but him thou shalt not slay: and thou shalt one +day see him standing with us before the shafts of the Dusky Men." So +I spake; but he looked fiercely at me, and departed and shunned me +all that day, and by good hap I was hard at hand when thou drewest +nigh our abode. Nay, Gold-mane, what would'st thou with thy sword? +Why art thou so red and wrathful? Would'st thou fight with my +brother because he loveth thy friend, thine old playmate, thy +kinswoman, and thinketh pity of her sorrow?' + +He said, with knit brow and gleaming eyes: 'Would the man take her +away from me perforce?' + +'My friend,' she said, 'thou art not yet so wise as not to be a fool +at whiles. Is it not so that she herself hath taken herself from +thee, since she hath come to know that thou hast given thyself to +another? Hath she noted nought of thee this winter and spring? Is +she well pleased with the ways of thee?' + +He said: 'Thou hast spoken simply with me, and I will do no less +with thee. It was but four days agone that she did me to wit that +she knew of me how I sought my love on the Mountain; and she put me +to sore shame, and afterwards I wept for her sorrow.' + +Therewith he told her all that the Bride had said to him, as he well +might, for he had forgotten no word of it. + +Then said the Friend: 'She shall have the token that she craveth, +and it is I that shall give it to her.' + +Therewith she took from her finger a ring wherein was set a very fair +changeful mountain-stone, and gave it to him, and said: + +'Thou shalt give her this and tell her whence thou hadst it; and tell +her that I bid her remember that To-morrow is a new day.' + + + +CHAPTER XX. THOSE TWO TOGETHER HOLD THE RING OF THE EARTH-GOD + + + +And now they fell silent both of them, and sat hearkening the sounds +of the Dale, from the whistle of the plover down by the water-side to +the far-off voices of the children and maidens about the kine in the +lower meadows. At last Gold-mane took up the word and said: + +'Sweet friend, tell me the uttermost of what thou would'st have of +me. Is it not that I should stand by thee and thine in the Folk-mote +of the Dalesmen, and speak for you when ye pray us for help against +your foemen; and then again that I do my best when ye and we are +arrayed for battle against the Dusky Men? This is easy to do, and +great is the reward thou offerest me.' + +'I look for this service of thee,' she said, 'and none other.' + +'And when I go down to the battle,' said he, 'shalt thou be sorry for +our sundering?' + +She said: 'There shall be no sundering; I shall wend with thee.' + +Said he: 'And if I were slain in the battle, would'st thou lament +me?' + +'Thou shalt not be slain,' she said. + +Again was there silence betwixt them, till at last he said: + +'This then is why thou didst draw me to thee in the Wild-wood?' + +'Yea,' said she. + +Again for a while no word was spoken, and Face-of-god looked on her +till she cast her eyes down before him. + +Then at last he spake, and the colour came and went in his face as he +said: 'Tell me thy name what it is.' + +She said: 'I am called the Sun-beam.' + +Then he said, and his voice trembled therewith: 'O Sun-beam, I have +been seeking pleasant and cunning words, and can find none such. But +tell me this if thou wilt: dost thou desire me as I desire thee? or +is it that thou wilt suffer me to wed thee and bed thee at last as +mere payment for the help that I shall give to thee and thine? Nay, +doubt it not that I will take the payment, if this is what thou wilt +give me and nought else. Yet tell me.' + +Her face grew troubled, and she said: + +'Gold-mane, maybe that thou hast now asked me one question too many; +for this is no fair game to be played between us. For thee, as I +deem, there are this day but two people in the world, and that is +thou and I, and the earth is for us two alone. But, my friend, +though I have seen but twenty and one summers, it is nowise so with +me, and to me there are many in the world; and chiefly the Folk of +the Wolf, amidst whose very heart I have grown up. Moreover, I can +think of her whom I have supplanted, the Bride to wit; and I know +her, and how bitter and empty her days shall be for a while, and how +vain all our redes for her shall seem to her. Yea, I know her +sorrow, and see it and grieve for it: so canst not thou, unless thou +verily see her before thee, her face unhappy, and her voice changed +and hard. Well, I will tell thee what thou askest. When I drew thee +to me on the Mountain I thought but of the friendship and brotherhood +to be knitted up between our two Folks, nor did I anywise desire thy +love of a young man. But when I saw thee on the heath and in the +Hall that day, it pleased me to think that a man so fair and +chieftain-like should one day lie by my side; and again when I saw +that the love of me had taken hold of thee, I would not have thee +grieved because of me, but would have thee happy. And now what shall +I say?--I know not; I cannot tell. Yet am I the Friend, as erst I +called myself. + +'And, Gold-mane, I have seen hitherto but the outward show and image +of thee, and though that be goodly, how would it be if thou didst +shame me with little-heartedness and evil deeds? Let me see thee in +the Folk-mote and the battle, and then may I answer thee.' + +Then she held her peace, and he answered nothing; and she turned her +face from him and said: + +'Out on it! have I beguiled myself as well as thee? These are but +empty words I have been saying. If thou wilt drag the truth out of +me, this is the very truth: that to-day is happy to me as it is to +thee, and that I have longed sore for its coming. O Gold-mane, O +speech-friend, if thou wert to pray me or command me that I lie in +thine arms to-night, I should know not how to gainsay thee. Yet I +beseech thee to forbear, lest thy death and mine come of it. And why +should we die, O friend, when we are so young, and the world lies so +fair before us, and the happy days are at hand when the Children of +the Wolf and the kindreds of the Dale shall deliver the Folk, and all +days shall be good and all years?' + +They had both risen up as she spake, and now he put forth his hands +to her and took her in his arms, wondering the while, as he drew her +to him, how much slenderer and smaller and weaker she seemed in his +embrace than he had thought of her; and when their lips met, he felt +that she kissed him as he her. Then he held her by the shoulders at +arms' length from him, and beheld her face how her eyes were closed +and her lips quivering. But before him, in a moment of time, passed +a picture of the life to be in the fair Dale, and all she would give +him there, and the days good and lovely from morn to eve and eve to +morn; and though in that moment it was hard for him to speak, at last +he spoke in a voice hoarse at first, and said: + +'Thou sayest sooth, O friend; we will not die, but live; I will not +drag our deaths upon us both, nor put a sword in the hands of Folk- +might, who loves me not.' + +Then he kissed her on the brow and said: 'Now shalt thou take me by +the hand and lead me forth from the Hall. For the day is waxing old, +and here meseemeth in this dim hall there are words crossing in the +air about us--words spoken in days long ago, and tales of old time, +that keep egging me on to do my will and die, because that is all +that the world hath for a valiant man; and to such words I would not +hearken, for in this hour I have no will to die, nor can I think of +death.' + +She took his hand and led him forth without more words, and they went +hand in hand and paced slowly round the Doom-ring, the light air +breathing upon them till their faces were as calm and quiet as their +wont was, and hers especially as bright and happy as when he had +first seen her that day. + +The sun was sinking now, and only sent one golden ray into the valley +through a cleft in the western rock-wall, but the sky overhead was +bright and clear; from the meadows came the sound of the lowing of +kine and the voices of children a-sporting, and it seemed to Gold- +mane that they were drawing nigher, both the children and the kine, +and somewhat he begrudged it that he should not be alone with the +Friend. + +Now when they had made half the circuit of the Doom-ring, the Sun- +beam stopped him, and then led him through the Ring of Stones, and +brought him up to the altar which was amidst of it; and the altar was +a great black stone hewn smooth and clean, and with the image of the +Wolf carven on the front thereof; and on its face lay the gold ring +which the priest or captain of the Folk bore on his arm between the +God and the people at all folk-motes. + +So she said: 'This is the altar of the God of Earth, and often hath +it been reddened by mighty men; and thereon lieth the Ring of the +Sons of the Wolf; and now it were well that we swore troth on that +ring before my brother cometh; for now will he soon be here.' + +Then Gold-mane took the Ring and thrust his right hand through it, +and took her right hand in his; so that the Ring lay on both their +hands, and therewith he spake aloud: + +'I am Face-of-god of the House of the Face, and I do thee to wit, O +God of the Earth, that I pledge my troth to this woman, the Sun-beam +of the Kindred of the Wolf, to beget my offspring on her, and to live +with her, and to die with her: so help me, thou God of the Earth, +and the Warrior and the God of the Face!' + +Then spake the Sun-beam: 'I, the Sun-beam of the Children of the +Wolf, pledge my troth to Face-of-god to lie in his bed and to bear +his children and none other's, and to be his speech-friend till I +die: so help me the Wolf and the Warrior and the God of the Earth!' + +Then they laid the Ring on the altar again, and they kissed each +other long and sweetly, and then turned away from the altar and +departed from the Doom-ring, going hand in hand together down the +meadow, and as they went, the noise of the kine and the children grew +nearer and nearer, and presently came the whole company of them round +a ness of the rock-wall; there were some thirty little lads and +lasses driving on the milch-kine, with half a score of older maids +and grown women, one of whom was Bow-may, who was lightly and +scantily clad, as one who heeds not the weather, or deems all months +midsummer. + +The children came running up merrily when they saw the Sun-beam, but +stopped short shyly when they noted the tall fair stranger with her. +They were all strong and sturdy children, and some very fair, but +brown with the weather, if not with the sun. Bow-may came up to +Gold-mane and took his hand and greeted him kindly and said: + +'So here thou art at last in Shadowy Vale; and I hope that thou art +content therewith, and as happy as I would wish thee to be. Well, +this is the first time; and when thou comest the second time it may +well be that the world shall be growing better.' + +She held the distaff which she bore in her hand (for she had been +spinning) as if it were a spear; her limbs were goodly and shapely, +and she trod the thick grass of the Vale with a kind of wary +firmness, as though foemen might be lurking nearby. The Sun-beam +smiled upon her kindly and said: + +'That shall not fail to be, Bow-may: ye have won a new friend to- +day. But tell me, when dost thou look to see the men here, for I was +down by the water when they went away yesterday?' + +'They shall come into the Dale a little after sunset,' said Bow-may. + +'Shall I abide them, my friend?' said Gold-mane, turning to the Sun- +beam. + +'Yea,' she said; 'for what else art thou come hither? or art thou so +pressed to depart from us? Last time we met thou wert not so hasty +to sunder.' + +They smiled on each other; and Bow-may looked on them and laughed +outright; then a flush showed in her cheeks through the tan of them, +and she turned toward the children and the other women who were +busied about the milking of the kine. + +But those two sat down together on a bank amidst the plain meadow, +facing the river and the eastern rock-wall, and the Sun-beam said: + +'I am fain to speak to thee and to see thine eyes watching me while I +speak; and now, my friend, I will tell thee something unasked which +has to do with what e'en now thou didst ask me; for I would have thee +trust me wholly, and know me for what I am. Time was I schemed and +planned for this day of betrothal; but now I tell thee it has become +no longer needful for bringing to pass our fellowship in arms with +thy people. Yea yesterday, ere he went on a hunt, whereof he shall +tell thee, Folk-might was against it, in words at least; and yet as +one who would have it done if he might have no part in it. So, in +good sooth, this hand that lieth in thine is the hand of a wilful +woman, who desireth a man, and would keep him for her speech-friend. +Now art thou fond and happy; yet bear in mind that there are deeds to +be done, and the troth we have just plighted must be paid for. So +hearken, I bid thee. Dost thou care to know why the wheedling of +thee is no longer needful to us?' + +He said: 'A little while ago I should have said, Yea, If thy lips +say the words. But now, O friend, it seemeth as if thine heart were +already become a part of mine, and I feel as if the chieftain were +growing up in me and the longing for deeds: so I say, Tell me, for I +were fain to hear what toucheth the welfare of thy Folk and their +fellowship with my Folk; for on that also have I set my heart?' + +She said gravely and with solemn eyes: + +'What thou sayest is good: full glad am I that I have not plighted +my troth to a mere goodly lad, but rather to a chieftain and a +warrior. Now then hearken! Since I saw thee first in the autumn +this hath happened, that the Dusky Men, increasing both in numbers +and insolence, have it in their hearts to win more than Silver-dale, +and it is years since they have fallen upon Rose-dale and conquered +it, rather by murder than by battle, and made all men thralls there, +for feeble were the Folk thereof; and doubt it not but that they will +look into Burgdale before long. They are already abroad in the +woods, and were it not for the fear of the Wolf they would be thicker +therein, and faring wider; for we have slain many of them, coming +upon them unawares; and they know not where we dwell, nor who we be: +so they fear to spread about over-much and pry into unknown places +lest the Wolf howl on them. Yet beware! for they will gather in +numbers that we may not meet, and then will they swarm into the Dale; +and if ye would live your happy life that ye love so well, ye must +now fight for it; and in that battle must ye needs join yourselves to +us, that we may help each other. Herein have ye nought to choose, +for now with you it is no longer a thing to talk of whether ye will +help certain strangers and guests and thereby win some gain to +yourselves, but whether ye have the hearts to fight for yourselves, +and the wits to be the fellows of tall men and stout warriors who +have pledged their lives to win or die for it.' + +She was silent a little and then turned and looked fondly on Face-of- +god and said: + +'Therefore, Gold-mane, we need thee no longer; for thou must needs +fight in our battle. I have no longer aught to do to wheedle thee to +love me. Yet if thou wilt love me, then am I a glad woman.' + +He said: 'Thou wottest well that thou hast all my love, neither will +I fail thee in the battle. I am not little-hearted, though I would +have given myself to thee for no reward.' + +'It is well,' said the Sun-beam; 'nought is undone by that which I +have done. Moreover, it is good that we have plighted troth to-day. +For Folk-might will presently hear thereof, and he must needs abide +the thing which is done. Hearken! he cometh.' + +For as she spoke there came a glad cry from the women and children, +and those two stood up and turned toward the west and beheld the +warriors of the Wolf coming down into the Dale by the way that Gold- +mane had come. + +'Come,' said the Sun-beam, 'here are your brethren in arms, let us go +greet them; they will rejoice in thee.' + +So they went thither, and there stood eighty and seven men on the +grass below the scree and Folk-might their captain; and besides some +valiant women, and a few carles who were on watch on the waste, and a +half score who had been left in the Dale, these were all the warriors +of the Wolf. They were clad in no holiday raiment, not even Folk- +might, but were in sheep-brown gear of the coarsest, like to +husbandmen late come from the plough, but armed well and goodly. + +But when the twain drew near, the men clashed their spears on their +shields, and cried out for joy of them, for they all knew what Face- +of-god's presence there betokened of fellowship with the kindreds; +but Folk-might came forward and took Face-of-god's hand and greeted +him and said: + +'Hail, son of the Alderman! Here hast thou come into the ancient +abode of chieftains and warriors, and belike deeds await thee also.' + +Yet his brow was knitted as he said these words, and he spake slowly, +as one that constraineth himself; but presently his face cleared +somewhat and he said: + +'Dalesman, it behoveth thy people to bestir them if ye would live and +see good days. Hath my sister told thee what is toward? Or what +sayest thou?' + +'Hail to thee, son of the Wolf!' said Face-of-god. 'Thy sister hath +told me all; and even if these Dusky Felons were not our foe-men +also, yet could I have my way, we should have given thee all help, +and should have brought back peace and good days to thy folk.' + +Then Folk-might flushed red and spake, as he cast out his hand +towards the warriors and up and down toward the Dale: + +'These be my folk, and these only: and as to peace, only those of us +know of it who are old men. Yet is it well; and if we and ye +together be strong enough to bring back good days to the feeble men +whom the Dusky Ones torment in Silver-dale it shall be better yet.' + +Then he turned about to his sister, and looked keenly into her eyes +till she reddened, and took her hand and looked at the wrist and +said: + +'O sister, see I not the mark on thy wrist of the Ring of the God of +the Earth? Have not oaths been sworn since yesterday?' + +'True it is,' she said, 'that this man and I have plighted troth +together at the altar of the Doom-ring.' + +Said Folk-might: 'Thou wilt have thy will, and I may not amend it.' +Therewith he turned about to Face-of-god and said: + +'Thou must look to it to keep this oath, whatever other one thou hast +failed in.' + +Said Face-of-god somewhat wrathfully: 'I shall keep it, whether thou +biddest me to keep it or break it.' + +'That is well,' said Folk-might, 'and then for all that hath gone +before thou mayest in a manner pay, if thou art dauntless before the +foe.' + +'I look to be no blencher in the battle,' said Face-of-god; 'that is +not the fashion of our kindred, whosoever may be before us. Yea, and +even were it thy blade, O mighty warrior of the Wolf, I would do my +best to meet it in manly fashion.' + +As he spake he half drew forth Dale-warden from his sheath, looking +steadily into the eyes of Folk-might; and the Sun-beam looked upon +him happily. But Folk-might laughed and said: + +'Thy sword is good, and I deem that thine heart will not fail thee; +but it is by my side and not in face of me that thou shalt redden the +good blade: I see not the day when we twain shall hew at each +other.' + +Then in a while he spake again: + +'Thou must pardon us if our words are rough; for we have stood in +rough places, where we had to speak both short and loud, whereas +there was much to do. But now will we twain talk of matters that +concern chieftains who are going on a hard adventure. And ye women, +do ye dight the Hall for the evening feast, which shall be the feast +of the troth-plight for you twain. This indeed we owe thee, O guest; +for little shall be thine heritage which thou shalt have with my +sister, over and above that thy sword winneth for thee.' + +But the Sun-beam said: 'Hast thou any to-night?' + +'Yea,' he said; 'Spear-god, how many was it?' + +There came forward a tall man bearing an axe in his right hand, and +carrying over his shoulder by his left hand a bundle of silver arm- +rings just such as Gold-mane had seen on the felons who were slain by +Wood-grey's house. The carle cast them on the ground and then knelt +down and fell to telling them over; and then looked up and said: +'Twelve yesterday in the wood where the battle was going on; and this +morning seven by the tarn in the pine-wood and six near this eastern +edge of the wood: one score and five all told. But, Folk-might, +they are coming nigh to Shadowy Vale.' + +'Sooth is that,' said Folk-might; 'but it shall be looked to. Come +now apart with me, Face-of-god.' + +So the others went their ways toward the Hall, while Folk-might led +the Burgdaler to a sheltered nook under the sheer rocks, and there +they sat down to talk, and Folk-might asked Gold-mane closely of the +muster of the Dalesmen and the Shepherds and the Woodland Caries, and +he was well pleased when Face-of-god told him of how many could march +to a stricken field, and of their archery, and of their weapons and +their goodness. + +All this took some time in the telling, and now night was coming on +apace, and Folk-might said: + +'Now will it be time to go to the Hall; but keep in thy mind that +these Dusky Men will overrun you unless ye deal with them betimes. +These are of the kind that ye must cast fear into their hearts by +falling on them; for if ye abide till they fall upon you, they are +like the winter wolves that swarm on and on, how many soever ye slay. +And this above all things shall help you, that we shall bring you +whereas ye shall fall on them unawares and destroy them as boys do +with a wasp's nest. Yet shall many a mother's son bite the dust. + +'Is it not so that in four weeks' time is your spring-feast and +market at Burgstead, and thereafter the great Folk-mote?' + +'So it is,' said Gold-mane. + +'Thither shall I come then,' said Folk-might, 'and give myself out +for the slayer of Rusty and the ransacker of Harts-bane and Penny- +thumb; and therefor shall I offer good blood-wite and theft-wite; and +thy father shall take that; for he is a just man. Then shall I tell +my tale. Yet it may be thou shalt see us before if battle betide. +And now fair befall this new year; for soon shall the scabbards be +empty and the white swords be dancing in the air, and spears and axes +shall be the growth of this spring-tide.' + +And he leaped up from his seat and walked to and fro before Gold- +mane, and now was it grown quite dark. Then Folk-might turned to +Face-of-god and said: + +'Come, guest, the windows of the Hall are yellow; let us to the +feast. To-morrow shalt thou get thee to the beginning of this work. +I hope of thee that thou art a good sword; else have I done a folly +and my sister a worse one. But now forget that, and feast.' + +Gold-mane arose, not very well at ease, for the man seemed +overbearing; yet how might he fall upon the Sun-beam's kindred, and +the captain of these new brethren in arms? So he spake not. But +Folk-might said to him: + +'Yet I would not have thee forget that I was wroth with thee when I +saw thee to-day; and had it not been for the coming battle I had +drawn sword upon thee.' + +Then Face-of-god's wrath was stirred, and he said: + +'There is yet time for that! but why art thou wroth with me? And I +shall tell thee that there is little manliness in thy chiding. For +how may I fight with thee, thou the brother of my plighted speech- +friend and my captain in this battle?' + +'Therein thou sayest sooth,' said Folk-might; 'but hard it was to see +you two standing together; and thou canst not give the Bride to me as +I give my sister to thee. For I have seen her, and I have seen her +looking at thee; and I know that she will not have it so.' + +Then they went on together toward the Hall, and Face-of-god was +silent and somewhat troubled; and as they drew near to the Hall, +Folk-might spake again: + +'Yet time may amend it; and if not, there is the battle, and maybe +the end. Now be we merry!' + +So they went into the Hall together, and there was the Sun-beam +gloriously arrayed, as erst in the woodland bower, and Face-of-god +sat on the dais beside her, and the uttermost sweetness of desire +entered into his soul as he noted her eyes and her mouth, that were +grown so kind to him, and her hand that strayed toward his. + +The Hall was full of folk, and all those warriors were there with +Wood-father and his sons, and Wood-mother, and Bow-may and many other +women; and Gold-mane looked down the Hall and deemed that he had +never seen such stalwarth bodies of men, or so bold and meet for +battle: as for the women he had seen fairer in Burgdale, but these +were fair of their own fashion, shapely and well-knit, and strong- +armed and large-limbed, yet sweet-voiced and gentle withal. Nay, the +very lads of fifteen winters or so, whereof a few were there, seemed +bold and bright-eyed and keen of wit, and it seemed like that if the +warriors fared afield these would be with them. + +So wore the feast; and Folk-might as aforetime amongst the healths +called on men to drink to the Jaws of the Wolf, and the Red Hand, and +the Silver Arm, and the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged Sword. But now +had Face-of-god no need to ask what these meant, since he knew that +they were the names of the kindreds of the Wolf. They drank also to +the troth-plight and to those twain, and shouted aloud over the +health and clashed their weapons: and Gold-mane wondered what echo +of that shout would reach to Burgstead. + +Then sang men songs of old time, and amongst them Wood-wont stood +with his fiddle amidst the Hall and Bow-may beside him, and they sang +in turn to it sweetly and clearly; and this is some of what they +sang: + + +She singeth. + +Wild is the waste and long leagues over; + Whither then wend ye spear and sword, +Where nought shall see your helms but the plover, + Far and far from the dear Dale's sward? + +He singeth. + +Many a league shall we wend together + With helm and spear and bended bow. +Hark! how the wind blows up for weather: + Dark shall the night be whither we go. + +Dark shall the night be round the byre, + And dark as we drive the brindled kine; +Dark and dark round the beacon-fire, + Dark down in the pass round our wavering line. + +Turn on thy path, O fair-foot maiden, + And come our ways by the pathless road; +Look how the clouds hang low and laden + Over the walls of the old abode! + +She singeth. + +Bare are my feet for the rough waste's wending, + Wild is the wind, and my kirtle's thin; +Faint shall I be ere the long way's ending + Drops down to the Dale and the grief therein. + +He singeth. + +Do on the brogues of the wild-wood rover, + Do on the byrnies' ring-close mail; +Take thou the staff that the barbs hang over, + O'er the wind and the waste and the way to prevail. + +Come, for how from thee shall I sunder? + Come, that a tale may arise in the land; +Come, that the night may be held for a wonder, + When the Wolf was led by a maiden's hand! + +She singeth. + +Now will I fare as ye are faring, + And wend no way but the way ye wend; +And bear but the burdens ye are bearing, + And end the day as ye shall end. + +And many an eve when the clouds are drifting + Down through the Dale till they dim the roof, +Shall they tell in the Hall of the Maiden's Lifting, + And how we drave the spoil aloof. + +They sing together. + +Over the moss through the wind and the weather, + Through the morn and the eve and the death of the day, +Wend we man and maid together, + For out of the waste is born the fray. + + +Then the Sun-beam spake to Gold-mane softly, and told him how this +song was made by a minstrel concerning a foray in the early days of +their first abode in Shadowy Vale, and how in good sooth a maiden led +the fray and was the captain of the warriors: + +'Erst,' she said, 'this was counted as a wonder; but now we are so +few that it is no wonder though the women will do whatsoever they +may.' + +So they talked, and Gold-mane was very happy; but ere the good-night +cup was drunk, Folk-might spake to Face-of-god and said: + +'It were well that ye rose betimes in the morning: but thou shalt +not go back by the way thou camest. Wood-wise and another shall go +with thee, and show thee a way across the necks and the heaths, which +is rough enough as far as toil goes, but where thy life shall be +safer; and thereby shalt thou hit the ghyll of the Weltering Water, +and so come down safely into Burgdale. Now that we are friends and +fellows, it is no hurt for thee to know the shortest way to Shadowy +Vale. What thou shalt tell concerning us in Burgdale I leave the +tale thereof to thee; yet belike thou wilt not tell everything till I +come to Burgstead at the spring market-tide. Now must I presently to +bed; for before daylight to-morrow must I be following the hunt along +with two score good men of ours.' + +'What beast is afield then?' said Gold-mane. + +Said Folk-might: 'The beasts that beset our lives, the Dusky Men. +In these days we have learned how to find companies of them; and +forsooth every week they draw nigher to this Dale; and some day they +should happen upon us if we were not to look to it, and then would +there be a murder great and grim; therefore we scour the heaths round +about, and the skirts of the woodland, and we fall upon these felons +in divers guises, so that they may not know us for the same men; +whiles are we clad in homespun, as to-day, and seem like to field- +working carles; whiles in scarlet and gold, like knights of the +Westland; whiles in wolf-skins; whiles in white glittering gear, like +the Wights of the Waste: and in all guises these felons, for all +their fierce hearts, fear us, and flee from us, and we follow and +slay them, and so minish their numbers somewhat against the great day +of battle.' + +'Tell me,' said Gold-mane; 'when we fall upon Silver-dale shall their +thralls, the old Dale-dwellers, fight for them or for us?' + +Said Folk-might: 'The Dusky Men will not dare to put weapons into +the hands of their thralls. Nay, the thralls shall help us; for +though they have but small stomach for the fight, yet joyfully when +the fight is over shall they cut their masters' throats.' + +'How is it with these thralls?' said Gold-mane. 'I have never seen a +thrall.' + +'But I,' said Folk-might, 'have seen a many down in the Cities. And +there were thralls who were the tyrants of thralls, and held the whip +over them; and of the others there were some who were not very hardly +entreated. But with these it is otherwise, and they all bear +grievous pains daily; for the Dusky Men are as hogs in a garden of +lilies. Whatsoever is fair there have they defiled and deflowered, +and they wallow in our fair halls as swine strayed from the dunghill. +No delight in life, no sweet days do they have for themselves, and +they begrudge the delight of others therein. Therefore their thralls +know no rest or solace; their reward of toil is many stripes, and the +healing of their stripes grievous toil. To many have they appointed +to dig and mine in the silver-yielding cliffs, and of all the tasks +is that the sorest, and there do stripes abound the most. Such +thralls art thou happy not to behold till thou hast set them free; as +we shall do.' + +'Tell me again,' said Face-of-god; 'Is there no mixed folk between +these Dusky Men and the Dalesmen, since they have no women of their +own, but lie with the women of the Dale? Moreover, do not the poor +folk of the Dale beget and bear children, so that there are thralls +born of thralls?' + +'Wisely thou askest this,' said Folk-might, 'but thereof shall I tell +thee, that when a Dusky Carle mingles with a woman of the Dale, the +child which she beareth shall oftenest favour his race and not hers; +or else shall it be witless, a fool natural. But as for the children +of these poor thralls; yea, the masters cause them to breed if so +their masterships will, and when the children are born, they keep +them or slay them as they will, as they would with whelps or calves. +To be short, year by year these vile wretches grow fiercer and more +beastly, and their thralls more hapless and down-trodden; and now at +last is come the time either to do or to die, as ye men of Burgdale +shall speedily find out. But now must I go sleep if I am to be where +I look to be at sunrise to-morrow.' + +Therewith he called for the sleeping-cup, and it was drunk, and all +men fared to bed. But the Sun-beam took Gold-mane's hand ere they +parted, and said: + +'I shall arise betimes on the morrow; so I say not farewell to-night; +yea, and after to-morrow it shall not be long ere we meet again.' + +So Gold-mane lay down in that ancient hall, and it seemed to him ere +he slept as if his own kindred were slipping away from him and he +were becoming a child of the Wolf. 'And yet,' said he to himself, 'I +am become a man; for my Friend, now she no longer telleth me to do or +forbear, and I tremble. Nay, rather she is fain to take the word +from me; and this great warrior and ripe man, he talketh with me as +if I were a chieftain meet for converse with chieftains. Even so it +is and shall be.' + +And soon thereafter he fell asleep in the Hall in Shadowy Vale. + + + +CHAPTER XXI. FACE-OF-GOD LOOKETH ON THE DUSKY MEN + + + +When he awoke again he saw a man standing over him, and knew him for +Wood-wise: he was clad in his war-gear, and had his quiver at his +back and his bow in his hand, for Wood-father's children were all +good bowmen, though not so sure as Bow-may. He spake to Face-of-god: + +'Dawn is in the sky, Dalesman; there is yet time for thee to wash the +night off of thee in our bath of the Shivering Flood and to put thy +mouth to the milk-bowl; but time for nought else: for I and Bow-may +are appointed thy fellows for the road, and it were well that we were +back home speedily.' + +So Face-of-god leapt up and went forth from the Hall, and Wood-wise +led to where was a pool in the river with steps cut down to it in the +rocky bank. + +'This,' said Wood-wise, 'is the Carle's Bath; but the Queen's is +lower down, where the water is wider and shallower below the little +mid-dale force.' + +So Gold-mane stripped off his raiment and leapt into the ice-cold +pool; and they had brought his weapons and war-gear with them; so +when he came out he clad and armed himself for the road, and then +turned with Wood-wise toward the outgate of the Dale; and soon they +saw two men coming from lower down the water in such wise that they +would presently cross their path, and as yet it was little more than +twilight, so that they saw not at first who they were, but as they +drew nearer they knew them for the Sun-beam and Bow-may. The Sun- +beam was clad but in her white linen smock and blue gown as he had +first seen her, her hair was wet and dripping with the river, her +face fresh and rosy: she carried in her two hands a great bowl of +milk, and stepped delicately, lest she should spill it. But Bow-may +was clad in her war-gear with helm and byrny, and a quiver at her +back, and a bended bow in her hand. So they greeted each other +kindly, and the Sun-beam gave the bowl to Face-of-god and said: + +'Drink, guest, for thou hast a long and thirsty road before thee.' + +So Face-of-god drank, and gave her the bowl back again, and she +smiled on him and drank, and the others after her till the bowl was +empty: then Bow-may put her hand on Wood-wise's shoulder, and they +led on toward the outgate, while those twain followed them hand in +hand. But the Sun-beam said: + +'This then is the new day I spoke of, and lo! it bringeth our +sundering with it; yet shall it be no longer than a day when all is +said, and new days shall follow after. And now, my friend, I shall +see thee no later than the April market; for doubt not that I shall +go thither with Folk-might, whether he will or not. Also as I led +thee out of the house when we last met, so shall I lead thee out of +the Dale to-day, and I will go with thee a little way on the waste; +and therefore am I shod this morning, as thou seest, for the ways on +the waste are rough. And now I bid thee have courage while my hand +holdeth thine. For afterwards I need not bid thee anything; for thou +wilt have enough to do when thou comest to thy Folk, and must needs +think more of warriors then than of maidens.' + +He looked at her and longed for her, but said soberly: 'Thou art +kind, O friend, and thinkest kindly of me ever. But methinks it were +not well done for thee to wend with me over a deal of the waste, and +come back by thyself alone, when ye have so many foemen nearby.' + +'Nay,' she said, 'they be nought so near as that yet, and I wot that +Folk-might hath gone forth toward the north-west, where he looketh to +fall in with a company of the foemen. His battle shall be a guard +unto us.' + +'I pray thee turn back at the top of the outgate,' said he, 'and be +not venturesome. Thou wottest that the pitcher is not broken the +first time it goeth to the well, nor maybe the twentieth, but at last +it cometh not back.' + +She said: 'Nevertheless I shall have my will herein. And it is but +a little way I will wend with thee.' + +Therewith were they come to the scree, and talk fell down between +them as they clomb it; but when they were in the darksome passage of +the rocks, and could scarce see one another, Face-of-god said: + +'Where then is another outgate from the Dale? Is it not up the +water?' + +'Yea,' she said, 'and there is none other: at the lower end the +rocks rise sheer from out the water, and a little further down is a +great force thundering betwixt them; so that by no boat or raft may +ye come out of the Dale. But the outgate up the water is called the +Road of War, as this is named the Path of Peace. But now are all +ways ways of war.' + +'There is peace in my heart,' said Gold-mane. + +She answered not for a while, but pressed his hand, and he felt her +breath on his cheek; and even therewithal they came out of the dark, +and Gold-mane saw that her cheek was flushed; and now she spake: + +'One thing would I say to thee, my friend. Thou hast seen me amongst +men of war, amongst outlaws who seek violence; thou hast heard me bid +my brother to count the slain, and I shrinking not; thou knowest (for +I have told thee) how I have schemed and schemed for victorious +battle. Yet I would not have thee think of me as a Chooser of the +Slain, a warrior maiden, or as of one who hath no joy save in the +battle whereto she biddeth others. O friend, the many peaceful hours +that I have had on the grass down yonder, sitting with my rock and +spindle in hand, the children round about my knees hearkening to some +old story so well remembered by me! or the milking of the kine in the +dewy summer even, when all was still but for the voice of the water +and the cries of the happy children, and there round about me were +the dear and beauteous maidens with whom I had grown up, happy amidst +all our troubles, since their life was free and they knew no guile. +In such times my heart was at peace indeed, and it seemed to me as if +we had won all we needed; as if war and turmoil were over, after they +had brought about peace and good days for our little folk. + +'And as for the days that be, are they not as that rugged pass, full +of bitter winds and the voice of hurrying waters, that leadeth yonder +to Silver-dale, as thou hast divined? and there is nought good in it +save that the breath of life is therein, and that it leadeth to +pleasant places and the peace and plenty of the fair dale.' + +'Sweet friend,' he said, 'what thou sayest is better than well: for +time shall be, if we come alive out of this pass of battle and bitter +strife, when I shall lead thee into Burgdale to dwell there. And +thou wottest of our people that there is little strife and grudging +amongst them, and that they are merry, and fair to look on, both men +and women; and no man there lacketh what the earth may give us, and +it is a saying amongst us that there may a man have that which he +desireth save the sun and moon in his hands to play with: and of +this gladness, which is made up of many little matters, what story +may be told? Yet amongst it shall I live and thou with me; and ill +indeed it were if it wearied thee and thou wert ever longing for some +day of victorious strife, and to behold me coming back from battle +high-raised on the shields of men and crowned with bay; if thine ears +must ever be tickled with the talk of men and their songs concerning +my warrior deeds. For thus it shall not be. When I drive the herds +it shall be at the neighbours' bidding whereso they will; not necks +of men shall I smite, but the stalks of the tall wheat, and the boles +of the timber-trees which the woodreeve hath marked for felling; the +stilts of the plough rather than the hilts of the sword shall harden +my hands; my shafts shall be for the deer, and my spears for the +wood-boar, till war and sorrow fall upon us, and I fight for the +ceasing of war and trouble. And though I be called a chief and of +the blood of chiefs, yet shall I not be masterful to the goodman of +the Dale, but rather to my hound; for my chieftainship shall be that +I shall be well beloved and trusted, and that no man shall grudge +against me. Canst thou learn to love such a life, which to me +seemeth lovely? And thou? of whom I say that thou art as if thou +wert come down from the golden chairs of the Burg of the Gods.' + +They were well-nigh out of the steep path by now, and the daylight +was bright about them; there she stayed her feet a moment and turned +to him and said: + +'All this should I love even now, if the grief of our Folk were but +healed, and hereafter shall I learn yet more of thy well-beloved +face.' + +Therewith she laid her face to his and kissed him fondly, and put his +hand to her side and held it there, saying: 'Soon shall we be one in +body and in soul.' + +And he laughed with joy and pride of life, and took her hand and led +her on again, and said: + +'Yet feel the cold rings of my hauberk, my friend; look at the spears +that cumber my hand, and at Dale-warden hanging by my side. Thou +shalt yet see me as the Slain's Chooser would see her speech-friend; +for there is much to do ere we win wheat-harvest in Burgdale.' + +Therewith they stepped together on to the level ground of the waste, +and saw Bow-may sitting on a stone hard by, and Wood-wise standing +beside her bending his bow. Bow-may smiled on Gold-mane and rose up, +and they all went on together, turning so that they went nearly +alongside the wall of the Vale, but westering a little; then the Sun- +beam said: + +'Many a time have I trodden this heath alongside our rock-wall; for +if ye wend a little further as our faces are turned, ye come to the +crags over the place where the Shivering Flood goeth out of Shadowy +Vale. There when ye have clomb a little may'st thou stand on the +edge of the rock-wall, and look down and behold the Flood swirling +and eddying in the black gorge of the rocks, and see presently the +reek of the force go up, and hear the thunder of the waters as they +pour over it: and all this about us now is as the garden of our +house--is it not so, Bow-may?' + +'Yea,' said she, 'and there are goodly cluster-berries to be gotten +hereabout in the autumn; many a time have the Sun-beam and I reddened +our lips with them. Yet is it best to be wary when war is abroad and +hot withal.' + +'Yea,' said the Sun-beam, 'and all this place comes into the story of +our House: lo! Gold-mane, two score paces before us a little on our +right hand those five grey stones. They are called the Rocks of the +Elders: for there in the first days of our abiding in Shadowy Vale +the Elders were wont to come together to talk privily upon our +matters.' + +Face-of-god looked thither as she spoke, but therewith saw Bow-may, +who went on the left hand of the Sun-beam, as Face-of-god on her +right hand, notch a shaft on her bent bow, and Wood-wise, who was on +his right hand, saw it also and did the like, and therewithal Face- +of-god got his target on to his arm, and even as he did so Bow-may +cried out suddenly: + +'Yea, yea! Cast thyself on to the ground, Sun-beam! Gold-mane, +targe and spear, targe and spear! For I see steel gleaming yonder +out from behind the Elders' Rocks.' + +Scarce were the words out of her mouth ere three shafts came flying, +and the bow-strings twanged. Gold-mane felt that one smote his helm +and glanced from it. Therewithal he saw the Sun-beam fall to earth, +though he knew not if she had but cast herself down as Bow-may bade. +Bow-may's string twanged at once, and a yell came from the foemen: +but Wood-wise loosed not, but set his hand to his mouth and gave a +loud wild cry--Ha! ha! ha! ha! How-ow-ow!--ending in a long and +exceeding great whoop like nought but the wolf's howl. Now Gold-mane +thinking swiftly, in a moment of time, as war-meet men do, judged +that if the Sun-beam were hurt (and she had made no cry), it were yet +wiser to fall on the foe before turning to tend her, or else all +might be lost; so he rushed forward spear in hand and target on arm, +and saw, as he opened up the flank of the Elders' Rocks, six men, +whereof one leaned aback on the rock with Bow-may's shaft in his +shoulder, and two others were just in act of loosing at him. In a +moment, as he rushed at them, one shaft went whistling by him, and +the other glanced from off his target; he cast a spear as he bounded +on, and saw it smite one of the shooters full in the naked face, and +saw the blood spout out and change his face and the man roll over, +and then in another moment four men were hewing at him with their +short steel axes. He thrust out his target against them, and then +let the weight of his body come on his other spear, and drave it +through the second shooter's throat, and even therewith was smitten +on the helm so hard that, though the Alderman's work held out, he +fell to his knees, holding his target over his head and striving to +draw forth Dale-warden; in that nick of time a shaft whistled close +by his ear, and as he rose to his feet again he saw his foeman +rolling over and over, clutching at the ling with both hands. Then +rang out again the terrible wolf-whoop from Wood-wise's mouth, and +both he and Bow-may loosed a shaft, for the two other foes had turned +their backs and were fleeing fast. Again Bow-may hit the clout, and +the Dusky Man fell dead at once, but Wood-wise's arrow flew over the +felon's shoulder as he ran. Then in a trice was Gold-mane bounding +after him like the hare just roused from her form; for it came into +his head that these felons had beheld them coming up out of the Vale, +and that if even this one man escaped, he would bring his company +down upon the Vale-dwellers. + +Strong and light-foot as any was Face-of-god, and though he was +cumbered with his hauberk, yet was Iron-face's handiwork far lighter +than the war-coat of the Dusky Man, and the race was soon over. The +felon turned breathless to meet Gold-mane, who drave his target +against him and cast him to earth, and as he strove to rise smote off +his head at one stroke; for Dale-warden was a good sword and the +Dalesman as fierce of mood as might be. There he let the felon lie, +and, turning, walked back swiftly toward the Elders' Rocks, and found +there Wood-wise and the dead foemen, for the carle had slain the +wounded, and he was now drawing the silver arm-rings off the slain +men; for all these Dusky Felons bore silver arm-rings. But Bow-may +was walking towards the Sun-beam, and thitherward followed Gold-mane +speedily. + +He found her sitting on a tussock of grass close by where she had +fallen, her face pale, her eyes eager and gleaming; she looked up at +him as he drew nigher and said: + +'Friend, art thou hurt?' + +'Nay,' he said, 'and thou? Thou art pale.' + +'I am not hurt,' she said. Then she smiled and said again: + +'Did I not tell thee that I am no warrior like Bow-may here? Such +deeds make maidens pale.' + +Said Bow-may: 'If ye will have the truth, Gold-mane, she is not wont +to grow pale when battle is nigh her. Look you, she hath had the +gift of a new delight, and findeth it sweeter and softer than she had +any thought of; and now hath she feared lest it should be taken from +her.' + +'Bow-may saith but the sooth,' said the Sun-beam simply, 'and kind it +is of her to say it. I saw thee, Bow-may, and good was thy shooting, +and I love thee for it.' + +Said Bow-may: 'I never shoot otherwise than well. But those idle +shooters of the Dusky Ones, whereabouts nigh to thee went their +shafts?' + +Said the Sun-beam: 'One just lifted the hair by my left ear, and +that was not so ill-aimed; as for the other, it pierced my raiment by +my right knee, and pinned me to the earth, so that I tottered and +fell, and my gown and smock are grievously wounded, both of them.' + +And she took the folds of the garments in her hands to show the rents +therein; and her colour was come again, and she was glad. + +'What were best to do now?' she said. + +Said Face-of-god: 'Let us tarry a little; for some of thy carles +shall surely come up from the Vale: because they will have heard +Wood-wise's whoop, since the wind sets that way.' + +'Yea, they will come,' said the Sun-beam. + +'Good is that,' said Face-of-god; 'for they shall take the dead +felons and cast them where they be not seen if perchance any more +stray hereby. For if they wind them, they may well happen on the +path down to the Vale. Also, my friend, it were well if thou wert to +bid a good few of the carles that are in the Vale to keep watch and +ward about here, lest there be more foemen wandering about the +waste.' + +She said: 'Thou art wise in war, Gold-mane; I will do as thou +biddest me. But soothly this is a perilous thing that the Dusky Men +are gotten so close to the Vale.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'This will Folk-might look to when he cometh home; +and it is most like that he will deem it good to fall on them +somewhere a good way aloof, so as to draw them off from wandering +over the waste. Also I will do my best to busy them when I am home +in Burgdale.' + +Therewith came up Wood-wise, and fell to talk with them; and his mind +it was that these foemen were but a band of strayers, and had had no +inkling of Shadowy Vale till they had heard them talking together as +they came up the path from the Vale, and that then they had made that +ambush behind the Elders' Rocks, so that they might slay the men, and +then bear off the woman. He said withal that it would be best to +carry their corpses further on, so that they might be cast over the +cliffs into the fierce stream of the Shivering Flood. + +Amidst this talk came up men from the Vale, a score of them, well +armed; and they ran to meet the wayfarers; and when they heard what +had befallen, they rejoiced exceedingly, and were above all glad that +Face-of-god had shown himself doughty and deft; and they deemed his +rede wise, to set a watch thereabouts till Folk-might came home, and +said that they would do even so. + +Then spake the Sun-beam and said: + +'Now must ye wayfarers depart; for the road is but rough, and the day +not over-long.' + +Then she turned to Face-of-god and put her hand on his shoulder, and +brought her face close to his and spake to him softly: + +'Doth this second parting seem at all strange to thee, and that I am +now so familiar to thee, I whom thou didst once deem to be a very +goddess? And now thou hast seen me redden before thine eyes because +of thee; and thou hast seen me grow pale with fear because of thee; +and thou hast felt my caresses which I might not refrain; even as if +I were altogether such a maiden as ye warriors hang about for a nine +days' wonder, and then all is over save an aching heart--wilt thou do +so with me? Tell me, have I not belittled myself before thee as if I +asked thee to scorn me? For thus desire dealeth both with maid and +man.' + +He said: 'In all this there is but one thing for me to say, and that +is that I love thee; and surely none the less, but rather the more, +because thou lovest me, and art of my kind, and mayest share in my +deeds and think well of them. Now is my heart full of joy, and one +thing only weigheth on it; and that is that my kinswoman the Bride +begrudgeth our love together. For this is the thing that of all +things most misliketh me, that any should bear a grudge against me.' + +She said: 'Forget not the token, and my message to her.' + +'I will not forget it,' said he. 'And now I bid thee to kiss me even +before all these that are looking on; for there is nought to belittle +us therein, since we be troth-plight.' + +And indeed those folk stood all round about them gazing on them, but +a little aloof, that they might not hear their words if they were +minded to talk privily. For they had long loved the Sun-beam, and +now the love of Face-of-god had begun to spring up in their hearts. + +So the twain embraced and kissed one another, and made no haste +thereover; and those men deemed that but meet and right, and clashed +their weapons on their shields in token of their joy. + +Then Face-of-god turned about and strode out of the ring of men, with +Bow-may and Wood-wise beside him, and they went on their journey over +the necks towards Burgstead. But the Sun-beam turned slowly from +that place toward the Vale, and two of the stoutest carles went along +with her to guard her from harm, and she went down into the Vale +pondering all these things in her heart. + +Then the other carles dragged off the corpses of the Dusky Men till +they had brought them to the sheer rocks above the Shivering Flood, +and there they tossed them over into the boiling caldron of the +force, and so departed taking with them the silver arm-rings of the +slain to add to the tale. + +But when they came back into the Vale the Sun-beam duly ordered that +watch and ward to keep the ingate thereto, and note all that should +befall till Folk-might came home. + + + +CHAPTER XXII. FACE-OF-GOD COMETH HOME TO BURGSTEAD + + + +But Face-of-god with Bow-may and Wood-wise fared over the waste, +going at first alongside the cliffs of the Shivering Flood, and then +afterwards turning somewhat to the west. They soon had to climb a +very high and steep bent going up to a mountain-neck; and the way +over the neck was rough indeed when they were on it, and they toiled +out of it into a barren valley, and out of the valley again on to a +rough neck; and such-like their journey the day long, for they were +going athwart all those great dykes that went from the ice-mountains +toward the lower dales like the outspread fingers of a hand or the +roots of a great tree. And the ice-mountains they had on their left +hands and whiles at their backs. + +They went very warily, with their bows bended and spear in hand, but +saw no man, good or bad, and but few living things. At noon they +rested in a valley where was a stream, but no grass, nought but +stones and sand; but where they were at least sheltered from the +wind, which was mostly very great in these high wastes; and there +Bow-may drew meat and wine from a wallet she bore, and they ate and +drank, and were merry enough; and Bow-may said: + +'I would I were going all the way with thee, Gold-mane; for I long +sore to let my eyes rest a while on the land where I shall one day +live.' + +'Yea,' said Face-of-god, 'art thou minded to dwell there? We shall +be glad of that.' + +'Whither are thy wits straying?' said she; 'whether I am minded to it +or not, I shall dwell there.' + +And Wood-wise nodded a yea to her. But Face-of-god said: + +'Good will be thy dwelling; but wherefore must it be so?' + +Then Wood-wise laughed and said: 'I shall tell thee in fewer words +than she will, and time presses now: Wood-father and Wood-mother, +and I and my two brethren and this woman have ever been about and +anigh the Sun-beam; and we deem that war and other troubles have made +us of closer kin to her than we were born, whether ye call it +brotherhood or what not, and never shall we sunder from her in life +or in death. So when thou goest to Burgdale with her, there shall we +be.' + +Then was Face-of-god glad when he found that they deemed his wedding +so settled and sure; but Wood-wise fell to making ready for the road. +And Face-of-god said to him: + +'Tell me one thing, Wood-wise; that whoop that thou gavest forth when +we were at handy-strokes e'en now--is it but a cry of thine own or is +it of thy Folk, and shall I hear it again?' + +'Thou may'st look to hear it many a time,' said Wood-wise, 'for it is +the cry of the Wolf. Seldom indeed hath battle been joined where men +of our blood are, but that cry is given forth. Come now, to the +road!' + +So they went their ways and the road worsened upon them, and toilsome +was the climbing up steep bents and the scaling of doubtful paths in +the cliff-sides, so that the journey, though the distance of it were +not so long to the fowl flying, was much eked out for them, and it +was not till near nightfall that they came on the ghyll of the +Weltering Water some six miles above Burgstead. Forsooth Wood-wise +said that the way might be made less toilsome though far longer by +turning back eastward a little past the vale where they had rested at +midday; and that seemed good to Gold-mane, in case they should be +wending hereafter in a great company between Burgdale and Shadowy +Vale. + +But now those two went with Face-of-god down a path in the side of +the cliff whereby him-seemed he had gone before; and they came down +into the ghyll and sat down together on a stone by the water-side, +and Face-of-god spake to them kindly, for he deemed them good and +trusty faring-fellows. + +'Bow-may,' said he, 'thou saidst a while ago that thou wouldst be +fain to look on Burgdale; and indeed it is fair and lovely, and ye +may soon be in it if ye will. Ye shall both be more than welcome to +the house of my father, and heartily I bid you thither. For night is +on us, and the way back is long and toilsome and beset with peril. +Sister Bow-may, thou wottest that it would be a sore grief to me if +thou camest to any harm, and thou also, fellow Wood-wise. Daylight +is a good faring-fellow over the waste.' + +Said Bow-may: 'Thou art kind, Gold-mane, and that is thy wont, I +know; and fain were I to-night of the candles in thine hall. But we +may not tarry; for thou wottest how busy we be at home; and Sun-beam +needeth me, if it were only to make her sure that no Dusky Man is +bearing off thine head by its lovely locks. Neither shall we journey +in the mirk night; for look you, the moon yonder.' + +'Well,' said Face-of-god, 'parting is ill at the best, and I would I +could give you twain a gift, and especially to thee, my sister Bow- +may.' + +Said Wood-wise: 'Thou may'st well do that; or at least promise the +gift; and that is all one as if we held it in our hands.' + +'Yea,' said Bow-may, 'Wood-wise and I have been thinking in one way +belike; and I was at point to ask a gift of thee.' + +'What is it?' said Gold-mane. 'Surely it is thine, if it were but a +guerdon for thy good shooting.' + +She laughed and handled the skirts of his hauberk as she said: + +'Show us the dint in thine helm that the steel axe made this +morning.' + +'There is no such great dint,' said he; 'my father forged that helm, +and his work is better than good.' + +'Yea,' said Bow-may, 'and might I have hauberk and helm of his +handiwork, and Wood-wise a good sword of the same, then were I a glad +woman, and this man a happy carle.' + +Said Gold-mane: 'I am well pleased at thine asking, and so shall +Iron-face be when he heareth of thine archery; and how that Hall-face +were now his only son but for thy close shooting. But now must I to +the way; for my heart tells me that there may have been tidings in +Burgstead this while I have been aloof.' + +So they rose all three, and Bow-may said: + +'Thou art a kind brother, and soon shall we meet again; and that will +be well.' + +Then he put his hands on her shoulders and kissed both her cheeks; +and he kissed Wood-wise, and turned and went his ways, threading the +stony tangle about the Weltering Water, which was now at middle +height, and running clear and strong; so turning once he beheld Wood- +wise and Bow-may climbing the path up the side of the ghyll, and Bow- +may turned to him also and waved her bow as token of farewell. Then +he went upon his way, which was rough enough to follow by night, +though the moon was shining brightly high aloft. Yet as he knew his +road he made but little of it all, and in somewhat more than an hour +and a half was come out of the pass into the broken ground at the +head of the Dale, and began to make his way speedily under the bright +moonlight toward the Gate, still going close by the water. But as he +went he heard of a sudden cries and rumour not far from him, unwonted +in that place, where none dwelt, and where the only folk he might +look to see were those who cast an angle into the pools and eddies of +the Water. Moreover, he saw about the place whence came the cries +torches moving swiftly hither and thither; so that he looked to hear +of new tidings, and stayed his feet and looked keenly about him on +every side; and just then, between his rough path and the shimmer of +the dancing moonlit water, he saw the moon smite on something +gleaming; so, as quietly as he could, he got his target on his arm, +and shortened his spear in his right hand, and then turned sharply +toward that gleam. Even therewith up sprang a man on his right hand, +and then another in front of him just betwixt him and the water; an +axe gleamed bright in the moon, and he caught a great stroke on his +target, and therewith drave his left shoulder straight forward, so +that the man before him fell over into the water with a mighty +splash; for they were at the very edge of the deepest eddy of the +Water. Then he spun round on his heel, heeding not that another +stroke had fallen on his right shoulder, yet ill-aimed, and not with +the full edge, so that it ran down his byrny and rent it not. So he +sent the thrust of his spear crashing through the face and skull of +the smiter, and looked not to him as he fell, but stood still, +brandishing his spear and crying out, 'For the Burg and the Face! +For the Burg and the Face!' + +No other foe came against him, but like to the echo of his cry rose a +clear shout not far aloof, 'For the Face, for the Face! For the Burg +and the Face!' He muttered, 'So ends the day as it begun,' and +shouted loud again, 'For the Burg and the Face!' And in a minute +more came breaking forth from the stone-heaps into the moonlit space +before the water the tall shapes of the men of Burgstead, the red +torchlight and the moonlight flashing back from their war-gear and +weapons; for every man had his sword or spear in hand. + +Hall-face was the first of them, and he threw his arms about his +brother and said: 'Well met, Gold-mane, though thou comest amongst +us like Stone-fist of the Mountain. Art thou hurt? With whom hast +thou dealt? Where be they? Whence comest thou?' + +'Nay, I am not hurt,' said Face-of-god. 'Stint thy questions then, +till thou hast told me whom thou seekest with spear and sword and +candle.' + +'Two felons were they,' said Hall-face, 'even such as ye saw lying +dead at Wood-grey's the other day.' + +'Then may ye sheathe your swords and go home,' said Gold-mane, 'for +one lieth at the bottom of the eddy, and the other, thy feet are +well-nigh treading on him, Hall-face.' + +Then arose a rumour of praise and victory, and they brought the +torches nigh and looked at the fallen man, and found that he was +stark dead; so they even let him lie there till the morrow, and all +turned about toward the Thorp; and many looked on Face-of-god and +wondered concerning him, whence he was and what had befallen him. +Indeed, they would have asked him thereof, but could not get at him +to ask; but whoso could, went as nigh to Hall-face and him as they +might, to hearken to the talk between the brothers. + +So as they went along Hall-face did verily ask him whence he came: +'For was it not so,' said he, 'that thou didst enter into the wood +seeking some adventure early in the morning the day before +yesterday?' + +'Sooth is that,' said Face-of-god, 'and I came to Shadowy Vale, and +thence am I come this morning.' + +Said Hall-face: 'I know not Shadowy Vale, nor doth any of us. This +is a new word. How say ye, friends, doth any man here know of +Shadowy Vale?' + +They all said, 'Nay.' + +Then said Hall-face: 'Hast thou been amongst mere ghosts and +marvels, brother, or cometh this tale of thy minstrelsy?' + +'For all your words,' said Gold-mane, 'to that Vale have I been; and, +to speak shortly (for I desire to have your tale, and am waiting for +it), I will tell thee that I found there no marvels or strange +wights, but a folk of valiant men; a folk small in numbers, but great +of heart; a folk come, as we be, from the Fathers and the Gods. And +this, moreover, is to be said of them, that they are the foes of +these felons of whom ye were chasing these twain. And these same +Dusky Men of Silver-dale would slay them every man if they might; and +if we look not to it they will soon be doing the same by us; for they +are many, and as venomous as adders, as fierce as bears, and as foul +as swine. But these valiant men, who bear on their banner the image +of the Wolf, should be our fellows in arms, and they have good will +thereto; and they shall show us the way to Silver-dale by blind +paths, so that we may fall upon these felons while they dwell there +tormenting the poor people of the land, and thus may we destroy them +as lads a hornet's nest. Or else the days shall be hard for us.' + +The men who hung about them drank in his words greedily. But Hall- +face was silent a little while, and then he said: 'Brother Gold- +mane, these be great tidings. Time was when we might have deemed +them but a minstrel's tale; for Silver-dale we know not, of which +thou speakest so glibly, nor the Dusky Men, any more than the Shadowy +Vale. Howbeit, things have befallen these two last days so strange +and new, that putting them together with the murder at Wood-grey's, +and thy words which seem somewhat wild, it may well seem to us that +tidings unlooked for are coming our way.' + +'Come, then,' said Face-of-god, 'give me what thou hast in thy scrip, +and trust me, I shall not jeer at thy tale.' + +Said Hall-face: 'I also will be short with the tale; and that the +more, as meseemeth it is not yet done, and that thou thyself shalt +share in the ending of it. It was the day before yesterday, that is +the day when thou departedst into the woods on that adventure whereof +thou shalt one day tell me more, wilt thou not?' + +'Yea, in good time,' said Face-of-god. + +'Well,' quoth Hall-face, 'we went into the woods that day and in the +morning, but after sunrise, to the number of a score: we looked to +meet a bear and a she-bear with cubs in a certain place; for one of +the Woodlanders, a keen hunter, had told us of their lair. Also we +were wishful to slay some of the wild-swine, the yearlings, if we +might. Therefore, though we had no helms or shields or coats of +fence, we had bowshot a plenty, and good store of casting-weapons, +besides our wood-knives and an axe or so; and some of us, of whom I +was one, bore our battle-swords, as we are wont ever to do, be the +foe beast or man. + +'Thus armed we went up Wildlake's Way and came to Carlstead, where +half-a-score Woodlanders joined themselves to us, so that we became a +band. We went up the half-cleared places past Carlstead for a mile, +and then turned east into the wood, and went I know not how far, for +the Woodlanders led us by crooked paths, but two hours wore away in +our going, till we came to the place where they looked to find the +bears. It is a place that may well be noted, for it is unlike the +wood round about. There is a close thicket some two furlongs about +of thorn and briar and ill-grown ash and oak and other trees, planted +by the birds belike; and it stands as it were in an island amidst of +a wide-spreading woodlawn of fine turf, set about in the most goodly +fashion with great tall straight-boled oak-trees, that seem to have +been planted of set purpose by man's hand. Yea, dost thou know the +place?' + +'Methinks I do,' said Gold-mane, 'and I seem to have heard the +Woodlanders give it a name and call it Boars-bait.' + +'That may be,' said Hall-face. 'Well, there we were, the dogs and +the men, and we drew nigh the thicket and beset it, and doubted not +to find prey therein: but when we would set the dogs at the thicket +to enter it, they were uneasy, and would not take up the slot, but +growled and turned about this way and that, so that we deemed that +they winded some fierce beast at our flanks or backs. + +'Even so it was, and fierce enough and deadly was the beast; for +suddenly we heard bow-strings twang, and shafts came flying; and +Iron-shield of the Upper Dale, who was close beside me, leapt up into +the air and fell down dead with an arrow through his back. Then I +bethought me in the twinkling of an eye, and I cried out, "The foe +are on us! take the cover of the tree-boles and be wary! For the +Burg and the Face! For the Burg and the Face!" + +'So we scattered and covered ourselves with the oak-boles, but +besides Iron-shield, who was slain outright, two goodmen were sorely +hurt, to wit Bald-face, a man of our house, and Stonyford of the +Lower Dale. + +'I looked from behind my tree-bole, a great one; and far off down the +glades I saw men moving, clad in gay raiment; but nearer to me, not a +hundred yards from my cover, I saw an arm clad in scarlet come out +from behind a tree-bole, so I loosed at it, and missed not; for +straight there tottered out from behind the tree one of those dusky +foul-favoured men like to those that were slain by Wood-grey. I had +another shaft ready notched, so I loosed and set the shaft in his +throat, and he fell. + +'Straightway was a yelling and howling about us like the cries of +scalded curs, and the oak-wood swarmed thick with these felons +rushing on us; for it seems that the man whom I had slain was a chief +amongst them, or we judged so by his goodly raiment. + +'Methought then our last day was come. What could we do but run +together again after we had loosed at a venture, and so withstand +them sword and spear in hand? Some fell beneath our shot, but not +many, for they came on very swiftly. + +'So they fell on us; but for all their fierceness and their numbers +they might not break our array, and we slew four and hurt many by +sword-hewing and spear-casting and push of spear; and five of us were +hurt and one slain by their dart-casting. So they drew off from us a +little, and strove to spread out and fall to shooting at us again; +but this we would not suffer, but pushed on as they fell back, +keeping as close together as we might for the trees. For we said +that we would all die together if needs must; and verily the stour +was hard. + +'Yet hearken! In that nick of time rose up a strange cry not far +from us, Ha! ha! ha! ha! How-ow-ow! ending like the howl of a wolf, +and then another and another and another, till the whole wood rang +again. + +'At first we deemed that here were come fresh foemen, and that we +were undone indeed; but when they heard it, the foe-men before us +faltered and gave way, and at last turned their backs and fled, and +we followed, keeping well together still: thereby the more part of +these men escaped us, for they fled wildly here and there from those +who bore that cry with them; so we knew that our work was being done +for us; therefore we stood, and saw tall men clad in sheep-brown weed +running through the glades pursuing those felons and smiting them +down, till both fleers and pursuers passed out of our sight like men +in a dream, or as when ye roll up a pictured cloth to lay it in the +coffer. + +'But to Stone-face's mind those brown-clad men were the Wights of the +Wood that be of the Fathers' blood, and our very friends; and when +some of us would yet have gone forward and foregathered with them, +and followed the chase along with them, Stone-face gainsaid it, +bidding us not to run into the arms of a second death, when we had +but just escaped from the first. Sooth to say, moreover, we had +divers hurt men that needed looking to. + +'So what with one thing, what with another, we turned back: but War- +cliff's brother, a tall man, had felled two of those felons with an +oak sapling which he had torn from the thicket; but he had not slain +them, and by now they were just awakening from their swoon, and were +sitting up looking round them with fierce rolling eyes, expecting the +stroke, for Raven of Longscree was standing over them with a naked +war-sword in his hand. But now that our blood was cool, we were loth +to slay them as they lay in our hands; so we bound them and brought +them away with us; and our own dead we carried also on such biers as +we might lightly make there, and with them three that were so +grievously hurt that they might not go afoot, these we left at +Carlstead: they were Tardy the Son of the Untamed, and Swan of Bull- +meadow, both of the Lower Dale, and a Woodlander, Undoomed to wit. +But the dead were Iron-shield aforesaid, and Wool-sark, and the +Hewer, a Woodlander. + +'So came we sadly at eventide to Burgstead with the two dead +Burgdalers, and the captive felons, and the wounded of us that might +go afoot; and ye may judge that they of Burgdale and our father +deemed these tidings great enough, and wotted not what next should +befall. Stone-face would have had those two felons slain there and +then; for no true tale could we get out of them, nor indeed any word +at all. But the Alderman would not have it so; and he deemed they +might serve our turn as hostages if any of our folk should be taken: +for one and all we deemed, and still deem, that war is on us and that +new folk have gathered on our skirts. + +'So the captives were shut up in the red out-bower of our house; and +our father was minded that thou mightest tell us somewhat of them +when thou wert come home. But about dusk to-day the word went that +they had broken out and gotten them weapons and fled up the Dale; and +so it was. + +'But to-morrow morning will a Gate-thing be holden, and there it will +be looked for of thee that thou tell us a true tale of thy goings. +For it is deemed, and it is my deeming especially, that thou may'st +tell us more of these men than thou hast yet told us. Is it not so?' + +'Yea, surely,' said Gold-mane, 'I can make as many words as ye will +about it; yet when all is said, it will come to much the same tale as +I have already told thee. Yet belike, if ye are minded to take up +the sword to defend you, I may tell you in what wise to lay hold on +the hilts.' + +'And that is well,' said Hall-face, 'and no less do I look for of +thee. But lo! here are we come to the Gate of the Burg that abideth +battle.' + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. TALK IN THE HALL OF THE HOUSE OF THE FACE + + + +In sooth they were come to the very Gate of Burgstead, and the great +gates were shut, and only a wicket was open, and a half score of +stout men in all their war-gear were holding ward thereby. They gave +place to Hall-face and his company, albeit some of the warders +followed them through the wicket that they might hear the story told. + +The street was full of folk, both men and women, talking together +eagerly concerning all these tidings, and when they saw the men of +the Hue-and-cry they came thronging about them, so that they might +scarce get to the door of the House of the Face because of the press; +so Hall-face (who was a very tall man) cried out: + +'Good people, all is well! the runaways are slain, and Face-of-god is +come back with us; give place a little, that we may come into our +house.' + +Then the throng set up a shout, and made way a little, so that Hall- +face and Gold-mane and the others could get to the door. And they +entered into the Hall, and saw much folk therein; and men were +sitting at table, for supper was not yet over. But when they saw the +new-comers they mostly rose up from the board and stood silent to +hear the tale, for they had been talking many together each to each, +so that the Hall was full of confused noise. + +So Hall-face again cried out: 'Men in this hall, good is the +tidings. The runaways are slain; and it was Face-of-god who slew +them as he came back safe from the waste.' + +Then they shouted for joy, and the brethren and Stone-face with them +(for he had entered with them from the street) went up on to the +dais, while the others of the Hue-and-cry gat them seats where they +might at the endlong tables. + +But when Face-of-god came up on to the dais, there sat Iron-face +looking down on the thronged Hall with a ruddy cheerful countenance, +and beside him sat the Bride; for he had caused her to be brought +thither when he had heard of the tidings of battle. She was daintily +clad in a flame-coloured kirtle embroidered with gold about the bosom +and sleeves, and there was a fillet of golden roses on her ruddy +hair. Her eyes shone bright and eager, and the pommels of her cheeks +were flushed and red contrary to their wont. Needs must Gold-mane +sit by her, and when he came close to her he knew not what to do, but +he put forth his hand to her, yet with a troubled countenance; for he +feared her grief mingled with her beauty: as for her, she wavered in +her mind whether she should forbear to touch him or not; but she saw +that men about were looking at them, and especially was Iron-face +looking on her: therefore she stood up and took Gold-mane's hand and +kissed his face as she had been wont to do, and by then was her face +as white as paper; and her anguish pierced his heart, so that he +well-nigh groaned for grief of her. But Iron-face looked on her and +said kindly: + +'Kinswoman, thou art pale; thou hast feared for thy mate amidst all +these tidings of war, and still fearest for him. But pluck up a +heart; for the man is a deft warrior for all his fair face, which +thou lovest as a woman should, and his hands may yet save his head. +And if he be slain, yet are there other men of the kindred, and the +earth will not be a desert to thee even then.' + +She looked at Iron-face, and the colour was come back to her face +somewhat, and she said: + +'It is true; I have feared for him; for he goeth into perilous +places. But for thee, thou art kind, and I thank thee for it.' + +And therewith she kissed Iron-face and sat down in her place, and +strove to overmaster her grief, that her face might not be changed by +it; for now were thoughts of battle, and valiant hopes arising in +men's hearts; and it seemed to her too grievous if she should mar +that feast on the eve of battle. + +But Iron-face kissed and embraced his son and said: 'Art thou late +come from the waste? Hast thou seen new things? We look to have a +notable tale from thee; though here also have been tidings, and it is +not unlike that we shall presently have new work on our hands.' + +'Father,' quoth Face-of-god, 'I deem that when thou hast heard my +tale thou wilt think no less of it than that there are valiant folk +to be holpen, poor folk to be delivered, and evil folk to be swept +from off the face of the earth.' + +'It is well, son,' said Iron-face. 'I see that thy tale is long; let +it alone for to-night. To-morrow shall we hold a Gate-thing, and +then shall we hear all that thou hast to tell. Now eat thy meat and +drink a bowl of wine, and comfort thy troth-plight maiden.' + +So Gold-mane sat down by the Bride, and ate and drank as he needs +must; but he was ill at ease and he durst not speak to her. For, on +the one hand, he thought concerning his love for the Sun-beam, and +how sweet and good a thing it was that she should take him by the +hand and lead him into noble deeds and great fame, caressing him so +softly and sweetly the while; and, on the other hand, there sat the +Bride beside him, sorrowful and angry, begrudging all that sweetness +of love, as though it were something foul and unseemly; and heavy on +him lay the weight of that grudge, for he was a man of a friendly +heart. + +Stone-face sat outward from him on the other side of the Bride; and +he leaned across her towards Gold-mane and said: + +'Fair shall be thy tale to-morrow, if thou tellest us all thine +adventure. Or wilt thou tell us less than all?' + +Said Face-of-god: 'In good time shalt thou know it all, foster- +father; but it is not unlike that by the time that thou hast heard +it, there shall be so many other things to tell of, that my tale +shall seem of little account to thee--even as the saw saith that one +nail driveth out the other.' + +'Yea,' said Stone-face, 'but one tale belike shall be knit up with +the others, as it fareth with the figures that come one after other +on the weaver's cloth; though one maketh not the other, yet one +cometh of the other.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Wise art thou now, foster-father, but thou shalt +be wiser yet in this matter by then a month hath worn: and to-morrow +shalt thou know enough to set thine hands a-work.' + +So the talk fell between them; and the night wore, and the men of +Burgdale feasted in their ancient hall with merry hearts, little +weighed down by thought of the battle that might be and the trouble +to come; for they were valorous and kindly folk. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. FACE-OF-GOD GIVETH THAT TOKEN TO THE BRIDE + + + +Now on the morrow, when Face-of-god arose and other men with him, and +the Hall was astir and there was no little throng therein, the Bride +came up to him; for she had slept in the House of the Face by the +bidding of the Alderman; and she spake to him before all men, and +bade him come forth with her into the garden, because she would speak +to him apart. He yeasaid her, though with a heavy heart; and to the +folk about that seemed meet and due, since those twain were deemed to +be troth-plight, and they smiled kindly on them as they went out of +the Hall together. + +So they came into the garden, where the pear-trees were blossoming +over the spring lilies, and the cherries were showering their flowers +on the deep green grass, and everything smelled sweetly on the warm +windless spring morning. + +She led the way, going before him till they came by a smooth grass +path between the berry bushes, to a square space of grass about which +were barberry trees, their first tender leaves bright green in the +sun against the dry yellowish twigs. There was a sundial amidmost of +the grass, and betwixt the garden-boughs one could see the long grey +roof of the ancient hall; and sweet familiar sounds of the nesting +birds and men and women going on their errands were all about in the +scented air. She turned about at the sundial and faced Face-of-god, +her hand lightly laid on the scored brass, and spake with no anger in +her voice: + +'I ask thee if thou hast brought me the token whereon thou shalt +swear to give me that gift.' + +'Yea,' said he; and therewith drew the ring from his bosom, and held +it out to her. She reached out her hand to him slowly and took it, +and their fingers met as she did so, and he noted that her hand was +warm and firm and wholesome as he well remembered it. + +She said: 'Whence hadst thou this fair finger-ring?' + +Said Face-of-god: 'My friend there in the mountain-valley drew it +from off her finger for thee, and bade me bear thee a message.' + +Her face flushed red: 'Yea,' she said, 'and doth she send me a +message? Then doth she know of me, and ye have talked of me +together. Well, give the message!' + +Said Face-of-god: 'She saith, that thou shalt bear in mind, That to- +morrow is a new day.' + +'Yea,' she said, 'for her it is so, and for thee; but not for me. +But now I have brought thee here that thou mightest swear thine oath +to me; lay thine hand on this ring and on this brazen plate whereby +the sun measures the hours of the day for happy folk, and swear by +the spring-tide of the year and all glad things that find a mate, and +by the God of the Earth that rejoiceth in the life of man.' + +Then he laid his hand on the finger-ring as it lay on the dial-plate +and said: + +'By the spring-tide and the live things that long to multiply their +kind; by the God of the Earth that rejoiceth in the life of man, I +swear to give to my kinswoman the Bride the second man-child that I +beget; to be hers, to leave or cherish, to love or hate, as her will +may bid her.' Then he looked on her soberly and said: 'It is duly +sworn; is it enough?' + +'Yea,' she said; but he saw how the tears ran out of her eyes and +wetted the bosom of her kirtle, and she hung her head for shame of +her grief. And Gold-mane was all abashed, and had no word to say; +for he knew that no word of his might comfort her; and he deemed it +ill done to stay there and behold her sorrow; and he knew not how to +get him gone, and be glad elsewhere, and leave her alone. + +Then, as if she had read his thought, she looked up at him and said +smiling a little amidst of her tears: + +'I bid thee stay by me till the flood is over; for I have yet a word +to say to thee.' + +So he stood there gazing down on the grass in his turn, and not +daring to raise his eyes to her face, and the minutes seemed long to +him: till at last she said in a voice scarcely yet clear of weeping: + +'Wilt thou say anything to me, and tell me what thou hast done, and +why, and what thou deemest will come of it?' + +He said: 'I will tell the truth as I know it, because thou askest it +of me, and not because I would excuse myself before thee. What have +I done? Yesterday I plighted my troth to wed the woman that I met +last autumn in the wood. And why? I wot not why, but that I longed +for her. Yet I must tell thee that it seemed to me, and yet seemeth, +that I might do no otherwise--that there was nothing else in the +world for me to do. What do I deem will come of it, sayest thou? +This, that we shall be happy together, she and I, till the day of our +death.' + +She said: 'And even so long shall I be sorry: so far are we +sundered now. Alas! who looked for it? And whither shall I turn to +now?' + +Said Gold-mane: 'She bade me tell thee that to-morrow is a new day: +meseemeth I know her meaning.' + +'No word of hers hath any meaning to me,' said the Bride. + +'Nay,' said he, 'but hast thou not heard these rumours of war that +are in the Dale? Shall not these things avail thee? Much may grow +out of them; and thou with the mighty heart, so faithful and +compassionate!' + +She said: 'What sayest thou? What may grow out of them? Yea, I +have heard those rumours as a man sick to death heareth men talk of +their business down in the street while he lieth on his bed; and +already he hath done with it all, and hath no world to mend or mar. +For me nought shall grow out of it. What meanest thou?' + +Said Gold-mane: 'Is there nought in the fellowship of Folks, and the +aiding of the valiant, and the deliverance of the hapless?' + +'Nay,' she said, 'there is nought to me. I cannot think of it to-day +nor yet to-morrow belike. Yet true it is that I may mingle in it, +though thinking nought of it. But this shall not avail me.' + +She was silent a little, but presently spake and said: 'Thou sayest +right; it is not thou that hast done this, but the woman who sent me +the ring and the message of an old saw. O that she should be born to +sunder us! How hath it befallen that I am now so little to thee and +she so much?' + +And again she was silent; and after a while Face-of-god spake kindly +and softly and said: 'Kinswoman, wilt thou for ever begrudge our +love? this grudge lieth heavy on my soul, and it is I alone that have +to bear it.' + +She said: 'This is but a light burden for thee to bear, when thou +hast nought else to bear! But do I begrudge thee thy love, Gold- +mane? I know not that. Rather meseemeth I do not believe in it--nor +shall do ever.' + +Then she held her peace a long while, nor did he speak one word: and +they were so still, that a robin came hopping about them, close to +the hem of her kirtle, and a starling pitched in the apple-tree hard +by and whistled and chuckled, turning about and about, heeding them +nought. Then at last she lifted up her face from looking on the +grass and said: 'These are idle words and avail nothing: one thing +only I know, that we are sundered. And now it repenteth me that I +have shown thee my tears and my grief and my sickness of the earth +and those that dwell thereon. I am ashamed of it, as if thou hadst +smitten me, and I had come and shown thee the stripes, and said, See +what thou hast done! hast thou no pity? Yea, thou pitiest me, and +wilt try to forget thy pity. Belike thou art right when thou sayest, +To-morrow is a new day; belike matters will arise that will call me +back to life, and I shall once more take heed of the joy and sorrow +of my people. Nay, it is most like that this I shall feign to do +even now. But if to-morrow be a new day, it is to-day now and not +to-morrow, and so shall it be for long. Hereof belike we shall talk +no more, thou and I. For as the days wear, the dealings between us +shall be that thou shalt but get thee away from my life, and I shall +be nought to thee but the name of a kinswoman. Thus should it be +even wert thou to strive to make it otherwise; and thou shalt NOT +strive. So let all this be; for this is not the word I had to say to +thee. But hearken! now are we sundered, and it irketh me beyond +measure that folk know it not, and are kind, and rejoice in our love, +and deem it a happy thing for the folk; and this burden I may bear no +longer. So I shall declare unto men that I will not wed thee; and +belike they may wonder why it is, till they see thee wedded to the +Woman of the Mountain. Art thou content that so it shall be?' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Nay, thou shalt not take this all upon thyself; I +also shall declare unto the Folk that I will wed none but her, the +Mountain-Woman.' + +She said: 'This shalt thou not do; I forbid it thee. And I WILL +take it all upon myself. Shall I have it said of me that I am unmeet +to wed thee, and that thou hast found me out at last and at latest? +I lay this upon thee, that wheresoever I declare this and whatsoever +I may say, thou shalt hold thy peace. This at least thou may'st do +for me. Wilt thou?' + +'Yea,' he said, 'though it shall put me to shame.' + +Again she was silent for a little; then she said: + +'O Gold-mane, this would I take upon myself not soothly for any shame +of seeming to be thy cast-off; but because it is I who needs must +bear all the sorrow of our sundering; and I have the will to bear it +greater and heavier, that I may be as the women of old time, and they +that have come from the Gods, lest I belittle my life with malice and +spite and confusion, and it become poisonous to me. Be at peace! be +at peace! And leave all to the wearing of the years; and forget not +that which thou hast sworn!' + +Therewith she turned and went from that green place toward the House +of the Face, walking slowly through the garden amongst the sweet +odours, beneath the fair blossoms, a body most dainty and beauteous +of fashion, but the casket of grievous sorrow, which all that +goodliness availed not. + +But Face-of-god lingered in that place a little, and for that little +while the joy of his life was dulled and overworn; and the days +before his wandering on the mountain seemed to him free and careless +and happy days that he could not but regret. He was ashamed, +moreover, that this so unquenchable grief should come but of him, and +the pleasure of his life, which he himself had found out for himself, +and which was but such a little portion of the Earth and the deeds +thereof. But presently his thought wandered from all this, and as he +turned away from the sundial and went his ways through the garden, he +called to mind his longing for the day of the spring market, when he +should see the Sun-beam again and be cherished by the sweetness of +her love. + + + +CHAPTER XXV. OF THE GATE-THING AT BURGSTEAD + + + +But now must he hasten, for the Gate-thing was to be holden two hours +before noon; so he betook him speedily to the Hall, and took his +shield and did on a goodly helm and girt his sword to his side, for +men must needs go to all folk-motes with their weapons and clad in +war-gear. Thus he went forth to the Gate with many others, and there +already were many folk assembled in the space aforesaid betwixt the +Gate of the Burg and the sheer rocks on the face of which were the +steps that led up to the ancient Tower on the height. The Alderman +was sitting on the great stone by the Gate-side which was his +appointed place, and beside him on the stone bench were the six +Wardens of the Burg; but of the six Wardens of the Dale there were +but three, for the others had not yet heard tell of the battle or had +got the summons to the Thing, since they had been about their +business down the Dale. + +Face-of-god took his place silently amongst the neighbours, but men +made way for him, so that he must needs stand in front, facing his +father and the Wardens; and there went up a murmur of expectation +round about him, both because the word had gone about that he had a +tale of new tidings to tell, and also because men deemed him their +best and handiest man, though he was yet so young. + +Now the Alderman looked around and beheld a great throng gathered +together, and he looked on the shadow of the Gate which the +southering sun was casting on the hard white ground of the Thing- +stead, and he saw that it had just taken in the standing-stone which +was in the midst of the place. On the face of the said stone was +carven the image of a fighting man with shield on arm and axe in +hand; for it had been set there in old time in memory of the man who +had bidden the Folk build the Gate and its wall, and had showed them +how to fashion it: for he was a deft house-smith as well as a great +warrior; and his name was Iron-hand. So when the Alderman saw that +this stone was wholly within the shadow of the Gate he knew that it +was the due time for the hallowing-in of the Thing. So he bade one +of the wardens who sat beside him and had a great slug-horn slung +about him, to rise and set the horn to his mouth. + +So that man arose and blew three great blasts that went bellowing +about the towers and down the street, and beat back again from the +face of the sheer rocks and up them and over into the wild-wood; and +the sound of it went on the light west-wind along the lips of the +Dale toward the mountain wastes. And many a goodman, when he heard +the voice of the horn in the bright spring morning, left spade or axe +or plough-stilts, or the foddering of the ewes and their younglings, +and turned back home to fetch his sword and helm and hasten to the +Thing, though he knew not why it was summoned: and women wending +over the meadows, who had not yet heard of the battle in the wood, +hearkened and stood still on the green grass or amidst the ripples of +the ford, and the threat of coming trouble smote heavy on their +hearts, for they knew that great tidings must be towards if a Thing +must needs be summoned so close to the Great Folk-mote. + +But now the Alderman stood up and spake amidst the silence that +followed the last echoes of the horn: + +'Now is hallowed in this Gate-thing of the Burgstead Men and the Men +of the Dale, wherein they shall take counsel concerning matters late +befallen, that press hard upon them. Let no man break the peace of +the Holy Thing, lest he become a man accursed in holy places from the +plain up to the mountain, and from the mountain down to the plain; a +man not to be cherished of any man of good will, not be holpen with +victuals or edge-tool or draught-beast; a man to be sheltered under +no roof-tree, and warmed at no hearth of man: so help us the Warrior +and the God of the Earth, and Him of the Face, and all the Fathers!' + +When he had spoken men clashed their weapons in token of assent; and +he sat down again, and there was silence for a space. But presently +came thrusting forward a goodman of the Dale, who seemed as if he had +come hurriedly to the Thing; for his face was running down with +sweat, his wide-rimmed iron cap sat awry over his brow, and he was +girt with a rusty sword without a scabbard, and the girdle was ill- +braced up about his loins. So he said: + +'I am Red-coat of Waterless of the Lower Dale. Early this morning as +I was going afield I met on the way a man akin to me, Fox of Upton to +wit, and he told me that men were being summoned to a Gate-thing. So +I turned back home, and caught up any weapon that came handy, and +here I am, Alderman, asking thee of the tidings which hath driven +thee to call this Thing so hard on the Great Folk-mote, for I know +them nothing so.' + +Then stood up Iron-face the Alderman and said: 'This is well asked, +and soon shall ye be as wise as I am on this matter. Know ye, O men +of Burgstead and the Dale, that we had not called this Gate-thing so +hard on the Great Folk-mote had not great need been to look into +troublous matters. Long have ye dwelt in peace, and it is years on +years now since any foeman hath fallen on the Dale: but, as ye will +bear in mind, last autumn were there ransackings in the Dale and +amidst of the Shepherds after the manner of deeds of war; and it +troubleth us that none can say who wrought these ill deeds. Next, +but a little while agone, was Wood-grey, a valiant goodman of the +Woodlanders, slain close to his own door by evil men. These men we +took at first for mere gangrel felons and outcasts from their own +folk: though there were some who spoke against that from the +beginning. + +'But thirdly are new tidings again: for three days ago, while some +of the folk were hunting peaceably in the Wild-wood and thinking no +evil, they were fallen upon of set purpose by a host of men-at-arms, +and nought would serve but mere battle for dear life, so that many of +our neighbours were hurt, and three slain outright; and now mark +this, that those who there fell upon our folk were clad and armed +even as the two felons that slew Wood-grey, and moreover were like +them in aspect of body. Now stand forth Hall-face my son, and answer +to my questions in a loud voice, so that all may hear thee.' + +So Hall-face stood forth, clad in gleaming war-gear, with an axe over +his shoulder, and seemed a doughty warrior. And Iron-face said to +him: + +'Tell me, son, those whom ye met in the wood, and of whom ye brought +home two captives, how much like were they to the murder-carles at +Wood-grey's?' + +Said Hall-face: 'As like as peas out of the same cod, and to our +eyes all those whom we saw in the wood might have been sons of one +father and one mother, so much alike were they.' + +'Yea,' said the Alderman; 'now tell me how many by thy deeming fell +upon you in the wood?' + +Said Hall-face: 'We deemed that if they were any less than +threescore, they were little less.' + +'Great was the odds,' said the Alderman. 'Or how many were ye?' + +'One score and seven,' said Hall-face. + +Said the Alderman: 'And yet ye escaped with life all save those +three?' + +Hall-face said: 'I deem that scarce one should have come back alive, +had it not been that as we fought came a noise like the howling of +wolves, and thereat the foemen turned and fled, and there followed on +the fleers tall men clad in sheep-brown raiment, who smote them down +as they fled.' + +'Here then is the story, neighbours,' said the Alderman, 'and ye may +see thereby that if those slayers of Wood-grey were outcast, their +band is a great one; but it seemeth rather that they were men of a +folk whose craft it is to rob with the armed hand, and to slay the +robbed; and that they are now gathering on our borders for war. Yet, +moreover, they have foemen in the woods who should be fellows-in-arms +of us. How sayest thou, Stone-face? Thou art old, and hast seen +many wars in the Dale, and knowest the Wild-wood to its innermost. + +'Alderman,' said Stone-face, 'and ye neighbours of the Dale, maybe +these foes whom ye have met are not of the race of man, but are +trolls and wood-wights. Now if they be trolls it is ill, for then is +the world growing worser, and the wood shall be right perilous for +those who needs must fare therein. Yet if they be men it is a worse +matter; for the trolls would not come out of the waste into the +sunlight of the Dale. But these foes, if they be men, are lusting +after our fair Dale to eat it up, and it is most like that they are +gathering a huge host to fall upon us at home. Such things I have +heard of when I was young, and the aspect of the evil men who overran +the kindreds of old time, according to all tales and lays that I have +heard, is even such as the aspect of those whom we have seen of late. +As to those wolves who saved the neighbours and chased their foemen, +there is one here who belike knoweth more of all this than we do, and +that, O Alderman, is thy son whom I have fostered, Face-of-god to +wit. Bid him answer to thy questioning, and tell us what he hath +seen and heard of late; then shall we verily know the whole story as +far as it can be known.' + +Then men pressed round, and were eager to hear what Face-of-god would +be saying. But or ever the Alderman could begin to question him, the +throng was cloven by new-comers, and these were the men who had been +sent to bring home the corpses of the Dusky Men: so they had cast +loaded hooks into the Weltering Water, and had dragged up him whom +Face-of-god had shoved into the eddy, and who had sunk like a stone +just where he fell, and now they were bringing him on a bier along +with him who had been slain a-land. They were set down in the place +before the Alderman, and men who had not seen them before looked +eagerly on them that they might behold the aspect of their foemen; +and nought lovely were they to look on; for the drowned man was +already bleached and swollen with the water, and the other, his face +was all wryed and twisted with that spear-thrust in the mouth. + +Then the Alderman said: 'I would question my son Face-of-god. Let +him stand forth!' + +And therewith he smiled merrily in his son's face, for he was +standing right in front of him; and he said: + +'Ask of me, Alderman, and I will answer.' + +'Kinsman,' said Iron-face, 'look at these two dead men, and tell me, +if thou hast seen any such besides those two murder-carles who were +slain at Carlstead; or if thou knowest aught of their folk?' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Yesterday I saw six others like to these both in +array and of body, and three of them I slew, for we were in battle +with them early in the morning.' + +There was a murmur of joy at this word, since all men took these +felons for deadly foemen; but Iron-face said: 'What meanest thou by +"we"?' + +'I and the men who had guested me overnight,' said Face-of-god, 'and +they slew the other three; or rather a woman of them slew the +felons.' + +'Valiant she was; all good go with her hand!' said the Alderman. +'But what be these people, and where do they dwell?' + +Said Face-of-god: 'As to what they are, they are of the kindred of +the Gods and the Fathers, valiant men, and guest-cherishing: rich +have they been, and now are poor: and their poverty cometh of these +same felons, who mastered them by numbers not to be withstood. As to +where they dwell: when I say the name of their dwelling-place men +mock at me, as if I named some valley in the moon: yet came I to +Burgdale thence in one day across the mountain-necks led by sure +guides, and I tell thee that the name of their abode is Shadowy +Vale.' + +'Yea,' said Iron-face, 'knoweth any man here of Shadowy Vale, or +where it is?' + +None answered for a while; but there was an old man who was sitting +on the shafts of a wain on the outskirts of the throng, and when he +heard this word he asked his neighbour what the Alderman was saying, +and he told him. Then said that elder: + +'Give me place; for I have a word to say hereon.' Therewith he +arose, and made his way to the front of the ring of men, and said: +'Alderman, thou knowest me?' + +'Yea,' said Iron-face, 'thou art called the Fiddle, because of thy +sweet speech and thy minstrelsy; whereof I mind me well in the time +when I was young and thou no longer young.' + +'So it is,' said the Fiddle. 'Now hearken! When I was very young I +heard of a vale lying far away across the mountain-necks; a vale +where the sun shone never in winter and scantily in summer; for my +sworn foster-brother, Fight-fain, a bold man and a great hunter, had +happened upon it; and on a day in full midsummer he brought me +thither; and even now I see the Vale before me as in a picture; a +marvellous place, well grassed, treeless, narrow, betwixt great +cliff-walls of black stone, with a green river running through it +towards a yawning gap and a huge force. Amidst that Vale was a doom- +ring of black stones, and nigh thereto a feast-hall well builded of +the like stones, over whose door was carven the image of a wolf with +red gaping jaws, and within it (for we entered into it) were stone +benches on the dais. Thence we came away, and thither again we went +in late autumn, and so dusk and cold it was at that season, that we +knew not what to call it save the valley of deep shade. But its real +name we never knew; for there was no man there to give us a name or +tell us any tale thereof; but all was waste there; the wimbrel +laughed across its water, the raven croaked from its crags, the eagle +screamed over it, and the voices of its waters never ceased; and thus +we left it. So the seasons passed, and we went thither no more: for +Fight-fain died, and without him wandering over the waste was irksome +to me; so never have I seen that valley again, or heard men tell +thereof. + +'Now, neighbours, have I told you of a valley which seemeth to be +Shadowy Vale; and this is true and no made-up story.' + +The Alderman nodded kindly to him, and then said to Face-of-god: +'Kinsman, is this word according with what thou knowest of Shadowy +Vale?' + +'Yea, on all points,' said Face-of-god; 'he hath put before me a +picture of the valley. And whereas he saith, that in his youth it +was waste, this also goeth with my knowledge thereof. For once was +it peopled, and then was waste, and now again is it peopled.' + +'Tell us then more of the folk thereof,' said the Alderman; 'are they +many?' + +'Nay,' said Face-of-god, 'they are not. How might they be many, +dwelling in that narrow Vale amid the wastes? But they are valiant, +both men and women, and strong and well-liking. Once they dwelt in a +fair dale called Silver-dale, the name whereof will be to you as a +name in a lay; and there were they wealthy and happy. Then fell upon +them this murderous Folk, whom they call the Dusky Men; and they +fought and were overcome, and many of them were slain, and many +enthralled, and the remnant of them escaped through the passes of the +mountains and came back to dwell in Shadowy Vale, where their +forefathers had dwelt long and long ago; and this overthrow befell +them ten years agone. But now their old foemen have broken out from +Silver-dale and have taken to scouring the wood seeking prey; so they +fall upon these Dusky Men as occasion serves, and slay them without +pity, as if they were adders or evil dragons; and indeed they be +worse. And these valiant men know for certain that their foemen are +now of mind to fall upon this Dale and destroy it, as they have done +with others nigher to them. And they will slay our men, and lie with +our women against their will, and enthrall our children, and torment +all those that lie under their hands till life shall be worse than +death to them. Therefore, O Alderman and Wardens, and ye neighbours +all, it behoveth you to take counsel what we shall do, and that +speedily.' + +There was again a murmur, as of men nothing daunted, but intent on +taking some way through the coming trouble. But no man said aught +till the Alderman spake: + +'When didst thou first happen upon this Earl-folk, son?' + +'Late last autumn,' said Face-of-god. + +Said Iron-face: 'Then mightest thou have told us of this tale +before.' + +'Yea,' said his son, 'but I knew it not, or but little of it, till +two days agone. In the autumn I wandered in the woodland, and on the +fell I happened on a few of this folk dwelling in a booth by the +pine-wood; and they were kind and guest-fain with me, and gave me +meat and drink and lodging, and bade me come to Shadowy Vale in the +spring, when I should know more of them. And that was I fain of; for +they are wise and goodly men. But I deemed no more of those that I +saw there save as men who had been outlawed by their own folk for +deeds that were unlawful belike, but not shameful, and were biding +their time of return, and were living as they might meanwhile. But +of the whole Folk and their foemen knew I no more than ye did, till +two days agone, when I met them again in Shadowy Vale. Also I think +before long ye shall see their chieftain in Burgstead, for he hath a +word for us. Lastly, my mind it is that those brown-clad men who +helped Hall-face and his company in the wood were nought but men of +this Earl-kin seeking their foemen; for indeed they told me that they +had come upon a battle in the woodland wherein they had slain their +foemen. Now have I told you all that ye need to know concerning +these matters.' + +Again was there silence as Iron-face sat pondering a question for his +son; then a goodman of the Upper Dale, Gritgarth to wit, spake and +said: + +'Gold-mane mine, tell us how many is this folk; I mean their +fighting-men?' + +'Well asked, neighbour,' said Iron-face. + +Said Face-of-god: 'Their fighting-men of full age may be five score; +but besides that there shall be some two or three score of women that +will fight, whoever says them nay; and many of these are little worse +in the field than men; or no worse, for they shoot well in the bow. +Moreover, there will be a full score of swains not yet twenty winters +old whom ye may not hinder to fight if anything is a-doing.' + +'This is no great host,' said the Alderman; 'yet if they deem there +is little to lose by fighting, and nought to gain by sitting still, +they may go far in winning their desire; and that more especially if +they may draw into their quarrel some other valiant Folk more in +number than they be. I marvel not, though, they were kind to thee, +son Gold-mane, if they knew who thou wert.' + +'They knew it,' said Face-of-god. + +'Neighbours,' said the Alderman, 'have ye any rede hereon, and aught +to say to back your rede?' + +Then spake the Fiddle: 'As ye know and may see, I am now very old, +and, as the word goes, unmeet for battle: yet might I get me to the +field, either on mine own legs or on the legs of some four-foot +beast, I would strike, if it were but one stroke, on these pests of +the earth. And, Alderman, meseemeth we shall do amiss if we bid not +the Earl-folk of Shadowy Vale to be our fellows in arms in this +adventure. For look you, how few soever they be, they will be sure +to know the ways of our foemen, and the mountain passes, and the +surest and nighest roads across the necks and the mires of the waste; +and though they be not a host, yet shall they be worth a host to us?' + +When men heard his words they shouted for joy of them; for hatred of +the Dusky Men who should so mar their happy life in the Dale was +growing up in them, and the more that hatred waxed, the more waxed +their love of those valiant ones. + +Now Red-coat of Waterless spake again: he was a big man, both tall +and broad, ruddy-faced and red-haired, some forty winters old. He +said: + +'Life hath been well with us of the Lower Dale, and we deem that we +have much to lose in losing it. Yet ill would the bargain be to buy +life with thralldom: we have been over-merry hitherto for that. +Therefore I say, to battle! And as to these men, these well-wishers +of Face-of-god, if they also are minded for battle with our foes, we +were fools indeed if we did not join them to our company, were they +but one score instead of six.' + +Men shouted again, and they said that Red-coat had spoken well. Then +one after other the goodmen of the Dale came and gave their word for +fellowship in arms with the Men of Shadowy Vale, if there were such +as Face-of-god had said, which they doubted not; and amongst them +that spake were Fox of Nethertown, and Warwell, and Gritgarth, and +Bearswain, and Warcliff, and Hart of Highcliff, and Worm of +Willowholm, and Bullsbane, and Highneb of the Marsh: all these were +stout men-at-arms and men of good counsel. + +Last of all the Alderman spake and said: + +'As to the war, that must we needs meet if all be sooth that we have +heard, and I doubt it not. + +'Now therefore let us look to it like wise men while time yet serves. +Ye shall know that the muster of the Dalesmen will bring under shield +eight long hundreds of men well-armed, and of the Shepherd-Folk four +hundreds, and of the Woodlanders two hundreds; and this is a goodly +host if it be well ordered and wisely led. Now am I your Alderman +and your Doomster, and I can heave up a sword as well as another +maybe, nor do I think that I shall blench in the battle; yet I +misdoubt me that I am no leader or orderer of men-of-war: therefore +ye will do wisely to choose a wiser man-at-arms than I be for your +War-leader; and if at the Great Folk-mote, when all the Houses and +Kindreds are gathered, men yeasay your choosing, then let him abide; +but if they naysay it, let him give place to another. For time +presses. Will ye so choose?' + +'Yea, yea!' cried all men. + +'Good is that, neighbours,' said the Alderman. 'Whom will ye have +for War-leader? Consider well.' + +Short was their rede, for every man opened his mouth and cried out +'Face-of-god!' Then said the Alderman: + +'The man is young and untried; yet though he is so near akin to me, I +will say that ye will do wisely to take him; for he is both deft of +his hands and brisk; and moreover, of this matter he knoweth more +than all we together. Now therefore I declare him your War-leader +till the time of the Great Folk-mote.' + +Then all men shouted with great glee and clashed their weapons; but +some few put their heads together and spake apart a little while, and +then one of them, Red-coat of Waterless to wit, came forward and +said: 'Alderman, some of us deem it good that Stone-face, the old +man wise in war and in the ways of the Wood, should be named as a +counsellor to the War-leader; and Hall-face, a very brisk and strong +young man, to be his right hand and sword-bearer.' + +'Good is that,' said Iron-face. 'Neighbours, will ye have it so?' +This also they yeasaid without delay, and the Alderman declared +Stone-face and Hall-face the helpers of Face-of-god in this business. +Then he said: + +'If any hath aught to say concerning what is best to be done at once, +it were good that he said it now before all and not to murmur and +grudge hereafter.' + +None spake save the Fiddle, who said: 'Alderman and War-leader, one +thing would I say: that if these foemen are anywise akin to those +overrunners of the Folks of whom the tales went in my youth (for I +also as well as Stone-face mind me well of those tales concerning +them), it shall not avail us to sit still and await their onset. For +then may they not be withstood, when they have gathered head and +burst out and over the folk that have been happy, even as the waters +that overtop a dyke and cover with their muddy ruin the deep green +grass and the flower-buds of spring. Therefore my rede is, as soon +as may be to go seek these folk in the woodland and wheresoever else +they may be wandering. What sayest thou, Face-of-god?' + +'My rede is as thine,' said he; 'and to begin with, I do now call +upon ten tens of good men to meet me in arms at the beginning of +Wildlake's Way to-morrow morning at daybreak; and I bid my brother +Hall-face to summon such as are most meet thereto. For this I deem +good, that we scour the wood daily at present till we hear fresh +tidings from them of Shadowy Vale, who are nigher than we to the +foemen. Now, neighbours, are ye ready to meet me?' + +Then all shouted, 'Yea, we will go, we will go!' + +Said the Alderman: 'Now have we made provision for the war in that +which is nearest to our hands. Yet have we to deal with the matter +of the fellowship with the Folk whom Face-of-god hath seen. This is +a matter for thee, son, at least till the Great Folk-mote is holden. +Tell me then, shall we send a messenger to Shadowy Vale to speak with +this folk, or shall we abide the chieftain's coming?' + +'By my rede,' said Face-of-god, 'we shall abide his coming: for +first, though I might well make my way thither, I doubt if I could +give any the bearings, so that he could come there without me; and +belike I am needed at home, since I am become War-leader. Moreover, +when your messenger cometh to Shadowy Vale, he may well chance to +find neither the chieftain there, nor the best of his men; for whiles +are they here, and whiles there, as they wend following after the +Dusky Men.' + +'It is well, son,' said the Alderman, 'let it be as thou sayest: +soothly this matter must needs be brought before the Great Folk-mote. +Now will I ask if any other hath any word to say, or any rede to give +before this Gate-thing sundereth?' + +But no man came forward, and all men seemed well content and of good +heart; and it was now well past noontide. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. THE ENDING OF THE GATE-THING + + + +But just as the Alderman was on the point of rising to declare the +breaking-up of the Thing, there came a stir in the throng and it +opened, and a warrior came forth into the innermost of the ring of +men, arrayed in goodly glittering War-gear; clad in such wise that a +tunicle of precious gold-wrought web covered the hauberk all but the +sleeves thereof, and the hem of it beset with blue mountain-stones +smote against the ankles and well-nigh touched the feet, shod with +sandals gold-embroidered and gemmed. This warrior bore a goodly +gilded helm on the head, and held in hand a spear with gold-garlanded +shaft, and was girt with a sword whose hilts and scabbard both were +adorned with gold and gems: beardless, smooth-cheeked, exceeding +fair of face was the warrior, but pale and somewhat haggard-eyed: +and those who were nearby beheld and wondered; for they saw that +there was come the Bride arrayed for war and battle, as if she were a +messenger from the House of the Gods, and the Burg that endureth for +ever. + +Then she fell to speech in a voice which at first was somewhat hoarse +and broken, but cleared as she went on, and she said: + +'There sittest thou, O Alderman of Burgdale! Is Face-of-god thy son +anywhere nigh, so that he can hear me?' + +But Iron-face wondered at her word, and said: 'He is beside thee, as +he should be.' For indeed Face-of-god was touching her, shoulder to +shoulder. But she looked not to the right hand nor the left, but +said: + +'Hearken, Iron-face! Chief of the House of the Face, Alderman of the +Dale, and ye also, neighbours and goodmen of the Dale: I am a woman +called the Bride, of the House of the Steer, and ye have heard that I +have plighted my troth to Face-of-god to wed with him, to love him, +and lie in his bed. But it is not so: we are not troth-plight; nor +will I wed with him, nor any other, but will wend with you to the +war, and play my part therein according to what might is in me; nor +will I be worser than the wives of Shadowy Vale.' + +Face-of-god heard her words with no change of countenance; but Iron- +face reddened over all his face, and stared at her, and knit his +brows and said: + +'Maiden, what are these words? What have we done to thee? Have I +not been to thee as a father, and loved thee dearly? Is not my son +goodly and manly and deft in arms? Hath it not ever been the wont of +the House of the Face to wed in the House of the Steer? and in these +two Houses there hath never yet been a goodlier man and a lovelier +maiden than are ye two. What have we done then?' + +'Ye have done nought against me,' she said, 'and all that thou sayest +is sooth; yet will I not wed with Face-of-god.' + +Yet fiercer waxed the face of the Alderman, and he said in a loud +voice: + +'But how if I tell thee that I will speak with thy kindred of the +Steer, and thou shalt do after my bidding whether thou wilt or +whether thou wilt not?' + +'And how will ye compel me thereto?' she said. 'Are there thralls in +the Dale? Or will ye make me an outlaw? Who shall heed it? Or I +shall betake me to Shadowy Vale and become one of their warrior- +maidens.' + +Now was the Alderman's face changing from red to white, and belike he +forgat the Thing, and what he was doing there, and he cried out: + +'This is an evil day, and who shall help me? Thou, Face-of-god, what +hast thou to say? Wilt thou let this woman go without a word? What +hath bewitched thee?' + +But never a word spake his son, but stood looking straight forward, +cold and calm by seeming. Then turned Iron-face again to the Bride, +and said in a softer voice: + +'Tell me, maiden, whom I erst called daughter, what hath befallen, +that thou wilt leave my son; thou who wert once so kind and loving to +him; whose hand was always seeking his, whose eyes were ever +following his; who wouldst go where he bade, and come when he called. +What hath betid that ye have cast him out, and flee from our House?' + +She flushed red beneath her helm and said: + +'There is war in the land, and I have seen it coming, and that things +shall change around us. I have looked about me and seen men happy +and women content, and children weary for mere mirth and joy. And I +have thought, in a day, or two days or three, all this shall be +changed, and the women shall be, some anxious and wearied with +waiting, some casting all hope away; and the men, some shall come +back to the garth no more, and some shall come back maimed and +useless, and there shall be loss of friends and fellows, and mirth +departed, and dull days and empty hours, and the children wandering +about marvelling at the sorrow of the house. All this I saw before +me, and grief and pain and wounding and death; and I said: Shall I +be any better than the worst of the folk that loveth me? Nay, this +shall never be; and since I have learned to be deft with mine hands +in all the play of war, and that I am as strong as many a man, and as +hardy-hearted as any, I will give myself to the Warrior and the God +of the Face; and the battle-field shall be my home, and the after- +grief of the fight my banquet and holiday, that I may bear the burden +of my people, in the battle and out of it; and know every sorrow that +the Dale hath; and cast aside as a grievous and ugly thing the bed of +the warrior that the maiden desires, and the toying of lips and hands +and soft words of desire, and all the joy that dwelleth in the Castle +of Love and the Garden thereof; while the world outside is sick and +sorry, and the fields lie waste and the harvest burneth. Even so +have I sworn, even so will I do.' + +Her eyes glittered and her cheek was flushed, and her voice was clear +and ringing now; and when she ended there arose a murmur of praise +from the men round about her. But Iron-face said coldly: + +'These are great words; but I know not what they mean. If thou wilt +to the field and fight among the carles (and that I would not naysay, +for it hath oft been done and praised aforetime), why shouldest thou +not go side by side with Face-of-god and as his plighted maiden?' + +The light which the sweetness of speech had brought into her face had +died out of it now, and she looked weary and hapless as she answered +him slowly: + +'I will not wed with Face-of-god, but will fare afield as a virgin of +war, as I have sworn to the Warrior.' + +Then waxed Iron-face exceeding wroth, and he rose up before all men +and cried loudly and fiercely: + +'There is some lie abroad, that windeth about us as the gossamers in +the lanes of an autumn morning.' + +And therewith he strode up to Face-of-god as though he had nought to +do with the Thing; and he stood before him and cried out at him while +all men wondered: + +'Thou! what hast thou done to turn this maiden's heart to stone? Who +is it that is devising guile with thee to throw aside this worthy +wedding in a worthy House, with whom our sons are ever wont to wed? +Speak, tell the tale!' + +But Face-of-god held his peace and stood calm and proud before all +men. + +Then the blood mounted to Iron-face's head, and he forgat folk and +kindred and the war to come, and he cried so that all the place rang +with the words of his anger: + +'Thou dastard! I see thee now; it is thou that hast done this, and +not the maiden; and now thou hast made her bear a double burden, and +set her on to speak for thee, whilst thou standest by saying nought, +and wilt take no scruple's weight of her shame upon thee!' + +But his son spake never a word, and Iron-face cried: 'Out on thee! +I know thee now, and why thou wouldest not to the West-land last +winter. I am no fool; I know thee. Where hast thou hidden the +stranger woman?' + +Therewith he drew forth his sword and hove it aloft as if to hew down +Face-of-god, who spake not nor flinched nor raised a hand from his +side. But the Bride threw herself in front of Gold-mane, while there +arose an angry cry of 'The Peace of the Holy Thing! Peace-breaking, +peace-breaking!' and some cried, 'For the War-leader, the War- +leader!' and as men could for the press they drew forth their swords, +and there was tumult and noise all over the Thing-stead. + +But Stone-face caught hold of the Alderman's right arm and dragged +down the sword, and the big carle, Red-coat of Waterless, came up +behind him and cast his arms about his middle and drew him back; and +presently he looked around him, and slowly sheathed his sword, and +went back to his place and sat him down; and in a little while the +noise abated and swords were sheathed, and men waxed quiet again, and +the Alderman arose and said in a loud voice, but in the wonted way of +the head man of the Thing: + +'Here hath been trouble in the Holy Thing; a violent man hath +troubled it, and drawn sword on a neighbour; will the neighbours give +the dooming hereof into the hands of the Alderman?' + +Now all knew Iron-face, and they cried out, 'That will we.' So he +spake again: + +'I doom the troubler of the Peace of the Holy Thing to pay a fine, to +wit double the blood-wite that would be duly paid for a full-grown +freeman of the kindreds.' + +Then the cry went up and men yeasaid his doom, and all said that it +was well and fairly doomed; and Iron-face sat still. + +But Stone-face stood forth and said: + +'Here have been wild words in the air; and dreams have taken shape +and come amongst us, and have bewitched us, so that friends and kin +have wrangled. And meseemeth that this is through the wizardry of +these felons, who, even dead as they are, have cast spells over us. +Good it were to cast them into the Death Tarn, and then to get to our +work; for there is much to do.' + +All men yeasaid that; and Forkbeard of Lea went with those who had +borne the corpses thither to cast them into the black pool. + +But the Fiddle spake and said: + +'Stone-face sayeth sooth. O Alderman, thou art no young man, yet am +I old enough to be thy father; so will I give thee a rede, and say +this: Face-of-god thy son is no liar or dastard or beguiler, but he +is a young man and exceeding goodly of fashion, well-spoken and kind; +so that few women may look on him and hear him without desiring his +kindness and love, and to such men as this many things happen. +Moreover, he hath now become our captain, and is a deft warrior with +his hands, and as I deem, a sober and careful leader of men; +therefore we need him and his courage and his skill of leading. So +rage not against him as if he had done an ill deed not to be +forgiven--whatever he hath done, whereof we know not--for life is +long before him, and most like we shall still have to thank him for +many good deeds towards us. As for the maiden, she is both lovely +and wise. She hath a sorrow at her heart, and we deem that we know +what it is. Yet hath she not lied when she said that she would bear +the burden of the griefs of the people. Even so shall she do; and +whether she will, or whether she will not, that shall heal her own +griefs. For to-morrow is a new day. Therefore, if thou do after my +rede, thou wilt not meddle betwixt these twain, but wilt remember all +that we have to do, and that war is coming upon us. And when that is +over, we shall turn round and behold each other, and see that we are +not wholly what we were before; and then shall that which were hard +to forgive, be forgotten, and that which is remembered be easy to +forgive.' + +So he spake; and Iron-face sat still and put his left hand to his +beard as one who pondereth; but the Bride looked in the face of the +old man the Fiddle, and then she turned and looked at Gold-mane, and +her face softened, and she stood before the Alderman, and bent down +before him and held out both her hands to him the palms upward. Then +she said: 'Thou hast been wroth with me, and I marvel not; for thy +hope, and the hope which we all had, hath deceived thee. But kind +indeed hast thou been to me ere now: therefore I pray thee take it +not amiss if I call to thy mind the oath which thou swearedst on the +Holy Boar last Yule, that thou wouldst not gainsay the prayer of any +man if thou couldest perform it; therefore I bid thee naysay not +mine: and that is, that thou wilt ask me no more about this matter, +but wilt suffer me to fare afield like any swain of the Dale, and to +deal so with my folk that they shall not hinder me. Also I pray thee +that thou wilt put no shame upon Face-of-god my playmate and my +kinsman, nor show thine anger to him openly, even if for a little +while thy love for him be abated. No more than this will I ask of +thee.' + +All men who heard her were moved to the heart by her kindness and the +sweetness of her voice, which was like to the robin singing suddenly +on a frosty morning of early winter. But as for Gold-mane, his heart +was smitten sorely by it, and her sorrow and her friendliness grieved +him out of measure. + +But Iron-face answered after a little while, speaking slowly and +hoarsely, and with the shame yet clinging to him of a man who has +been wroth and has speedily let his wrath run off him. So he said: + +'It is well, my daughter. I have no will to forswear myself; nor +hast thou asked me a thing which is over-hard. Yet indeed I would +that to-day were yesterday, or that many days were worn away.' + +Then he stood up and cried in a loud voice over the throng: + +'Let none forget the muster; but hold him ready against the time that +the Warden shall come to him. Let all men obey the War-leader, Face- +of-god, without question or delay. As to the fine of the peace- +breaker, it shall be laid on the altar of the God at the Great Folk- +mote. Herewith is the Thing broken up.' + +Then all men shouted and clashed their weapons, and so sundered, and +went about their business. + +And the talk of men it was that the breaking of the troth-plight +between those twain was ill; for they loved Face-of-god, and as for +the Bride they deemed her the Dearest of the kindreds and the Jewel +of the Folk, and as if she were the fairest and the kindest of all +the Gods. Neither did the wrath of Iron-face mislike any; but they +said he had done well and manly both to be wroth and to let his wrath +run off him. As to the war which was to come, they kept a good heart +about it, and deemed it as a game to be played, wherein they might +show themselves deft and valiant, and so get back to their merry life +again. + +So wore the day through afternoon to even and night. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. FACE-OF-GOD LEADETH A BAND THROUGH THE WOOD + + + +Next morning tryst was held faithfully, and an hundred and a half +were gathered together on Wildlake's Way; and Face-of-god ordered +them into three companies. He made Hall-face leader over the first +one, and bade him hold on his way northward, and then to make for +Boars-bait and see if he should meet with anything thereabout where +the battle had been. Red-coat of Waterless he made captain of the +second band; and he had it in charge to wend eastward along the edge +of the Dale, and not to go deep into the wood, but to go as far as he +might within the time appointed, toward the Mountains. Furthermore, +he bade both Hall-face and Red-coat to bring their bands back to +Wildlake's Way by the morrow at sunset, where other goodmen should be +come to take the places of their men; and then if he and his company +were back again, he would bid them further what to do; but if not, as +seemed likely, then Hall-face's band to go west toward the Shepherd +country half a day's journey, and so back, and Red-coat's east along +the Dale's lip again for the like time, and then back, so that there +might be a constant watch and ward of the Dale kept against the +Felons. + +All being ordered Gold-mane led his own company north-east through +the thick wood, thinking that he might so fare as to come nigh to +Silver-dale, or at least to hear tidings thereof. This intent he +told to Stone-face, but the old man shook his head and said: + +'Good is this if it may be done; but it is not for everyone to go +down to Hell in his lifetime and come back safe with a tale thereof. +However, whither thou wilt lead, thither will I follow, though +assured death waylayeth us.' + +And the old carle was joyous and proud to be on this adventure, and +said, that it was good indeed that his foster-son had with him a man +well stricken in years, who had both seen many things, and learned +many, and had good rede to give to valiant men. + +So they went on their ways, and fared very warily when they were +gotten beyond those parts of the wood which they knew well. By this +time they were strung out in a long line; and they noted their road +carefully, blazing the trees on either side when there were trees, +and piling up little stone-heaps where the trees failed them. For +Stone-face said that oft it befell men amidst the thicket and the +waste to be misled by wights that begrudged men their lives, so that +they went round and round in a ring which they might not depart from +till they died; and no man doubted his word herein. + +All day they went, and met no foe, nay, no man at all; nought but the +wild things of the wood; and that day the wood changed little about +them from mile to mile. There were many thickets across their road +which they had to go round about; so that to the crow flying over the +tree-tops the journey had not been long to the place where night came +upon them, and where they had to make the wood their bedchamber. + +That night they lighted no fire, but ate such cold victual as they +might carry with them; nor had they shot any venison, since they had +with them more than enough; they made little noise or stir therefore +and fell asleep when they had set the watch. + +On the morrow they arose betimes, and broke their fast and went their +ways till noon: by then the wood had thinned somewhat, and there was +little underwood betwixt the scrubby oak and ash which were pretty +nigh all the trees about: the ground also was broken, and here and +there rocky, and they went into and out of rough little dales, most +of which had in them a brook of water running west and southwest; and +now Face-of-god led his men somewhat more easterly; and still for +some while they met no man. + +At last, about four hours after noon, when they were going less +warily, because they had hitherto come across nothing to hinder them, +rising over the brow of a somewhat steep ridge, they saw down in the +valley below them a half score of men sitting by the brook-side +eating and drinking, their weapons lying beside them, and along with +them stood a woman with her hands tied behind her back. + +They saw at once that these men were of the Felons, so they that had +their bows bent, loosed at them without more ado, while the others +ran in upon them with sword and spear. The felons leapt up and ran +scattering down the dale, such of them as were not smitten by the +shafts; but he who was nighest to the woman, ere he ran, turned and +caught up a sword from the ground and thrust it through her, and the +next moment fell across the brook with an arrow in his back. + +No one of the felons was nimble enough to escape from the fleet-foot +hunters of Burgdale, and they were all slain there to the number of +eleven. + +But when they came back to the woman to tend her, she breathed her +last in their hands: she was a young and fair woman, black-haired +and dark-eyed. She had on her body a gown of rich web, but nought +else: she had been bruised and sore mishandled, and the Burgdale +carles wept for pity of her, and for wrath, as they straightened her +limbs on the turf of the little valley. They let her lie there a +little, whilst they searched round about, lest there should be any +other poor soul needing their help, or any felon lurking thereby; but +they found nought else save a bundle wherein was another rich gown +and divers woman's gear, and sundry rings and jewels, and therewithal +the weapons and war-gear of a knight, delicately wrought after the +Westland fashion: these seemed to them to betoken other foul deeds +of these murder-carles. So when they had abided a while, they laid +the dead woman in mould by the brook-side, and buried with her the +other woman's attire and the knight's gear, all but his sword and +shield, which they had away with them: then they cast the carcasses +of the felons into the brake, but brought away their weapons and the +silver rings from their arms, which they wore like all the others of +them whom they had fallen in with; and so went on their way to the +north-east, full of wrath against those dastards of the Earth. + +It was hard on sunset when they left the valley of murder, and they +went no long way thence before they must needs make stay for the +night; and when they had arrayed their sleeping-stead the moon was +up, and they saw that before them lay the close wood again, for they +had made their lair on the top of a little ridge. + +There then they lay, and nought stirred them in the night, and +betimes on the morrow they were afoot, and entered the abovesaid +thicket, wherein two of them, keen hunters, had been aforetime, but +had not gone deep into it. Through this wood they went all day +toward the north-east, and met nought but the wild things therein. +At last, when it was near sunset, they came out of the thicket into a +small plain, or shallow dale rather, with no great trees in it, but +thorn-brakes here and there where the ground sank into hollows; a +little river ran through the midst of it, and winded round about a +height whose face toward the river went down sheer into the water, +but away from it sank down in a long slope to where the thick wood +began again: and this height or burg looked well-nigh west. + +Thitherward they went; but as they were drawing nigh to the river, +and were on the top of a bent above a bushy hollow between them and +the water, they espied a man standing in the river near the bank, who +saw them not, because he was stooping down intent on something in the +bank or under it: so they gat them speedily down into the hollow +without noise, that they might get some tidings of the man. + +Then Face-of-god bade his men abide hidden under the bushes and stole +forward quietly up the further bank of the hollow, his target on his +arm and his spear poised. When he was behind the last bush on the +top of the bent he was within half a spear-cast of the water and the +man; so he looked on him and saw that he was quite naked except for a +clout about his middle. + +Face-of-god saw at once that he was not one of the Dusky Men; he was +a black-haired man, but white-skinned, and of fair stature, though +not so tall as the Burgdale folk. He was busied in tickling trouts, +and just as Face-of-god came out from the bush into the westering +sunlight, he threw up a fish on to the bank, and looked up +therewithal, and beheld the weaponed man glittering, and uttered a +cry, but fled not when he saw the spear poised for casting. + +Then Face-of-god spake to him and said: 'Come hither, Woodsman! we +will not harm thee, but we desire speech of thee: and it will not +avail thee to flee, since I have bowmen of the best in the hollow +yonder.' + +The man put forth his hands towards him as if praying him to forbear +casting, and looked at him hard, and then came dripping from out the +water, and seemed not greatly afeard; for he stooped down and picked +up the trouts he had taken, and came towards Face-of-god stringing +the last-caught one through the gills on to the withy whereon were +the others: and Face-of-god saw that he was a goodly man of some +thirty winters. + +Then Face-of-god looked on him with friendly eyes and said: + +'Art thou a foemen? or wilt thou be helpful to us?' + +He answered in the speech of the kindreds with the hoarse voice of a +much weather-beaten man: + +'Thou seest, lord, that I am naked and unarmed.' + +'Yet may'st thou bewray us,' said Face-of-god. 'What man art thou?' + +Said the man: 'I am the runaway thrall of evil men; I have fled from +Rose-dale and the Dusky Men. Hast thou the heart to hurt me?' + +'We are the foemen of the Dusky Men,' said Face-of-God; 'wilt thou +help us against them?' + +The man knit his brows and said: 'Yea, if ye will give me your word +not to suffer me to fall into their hands alive. But whence art +thou, to be so bold?' + +Said Face-of-god: 'We are of Burgdale; and I will swear to thee on +the edge of the sword that thou shalt not fall alive into the hands +of the Dusky Men.' + +'Of Burgdale have I heard,' said the man; 'and in sooth thou seemest +not such a man as would bewray a hapless man. But now had I best +bring you to some lurking-place where ye shall not be easily found of +these devils, who now oft-times scour the woods hereabout.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Come first and see my fellows; and then if thou +thinkest we have need to hide, it is well.' + +So the man went side by side with him towards their lair, and as they +went Gold-mane noted marks of stripes on his back and sides, and +said: 'Sorely hast thou been mishandled, poor man!' + +Then the man turned on him and said somewhat fiercely: 'Said I not +that I had been a thrall of the Dusky Men? how then should I have +escaped tormenting and scourging, if I had been with them for but +three days?' + +As he spake they came about a thorn-bush, and there were the Burgdale +men down in the hollow; and the man said: 'Are these thy fellows? +Call to mind that thou hast sworn by the edge of the sword not to +hurt me.' + +'Poor man!' said Face-of-god; 'these are thy friends, unless thou +bewrayest us.' + +Then he cried aloud to his folk: 'Here is now a good hap! this is a +runaway thrall of the Dusky Men; of him shall we hear tidings; so +cherish him all ye may.' + +So the carles thronged about him and bestirred themselves to help +him, and one gave him his surcoat for a kirtle, and another cast a +cloak about him; and they brought him meat and drink, such as they +had ready to hand: and the man looked as if he scarce believed in +all this, but deemed himself to be in a dream. But presently he +turned to Face-of-god and said: + +'Now I see so many men and weapons I deem that ye have no need to +skulk in caves to-night, though I know of good ones: yet shall ye do +well not to light a fire till moon-setting; for the flame ye may +lightly hide, but the smoke may be seen from far aloof.' + +But they bade him to meat, and he needed no second bidding but ate +lustily, and they gave him wine, and he drank a great draught and +sighed as for joy. Then he said in a trembling voice, as though he +feared a naysay: + +'If ye are from Burgdale ye shall be faring back again presently; and +I pray you to take me with you.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Yea surely, friend, that will we do, and rejoice +in thee.' + +Then he drank another cup which Warcliff held out to him, and spake +again: 'Yet if ye would abide here till about noon to-morrow, or +mayhappen a little later, I would bring other runaways to see you; +and them also might ye take with you: ye may think when ye see them +that ye shall have small gain of their company; for poor wretched +folk they be, like to myself. Yet since ye seek for tidings, herein +might they do you more service than I; for amongst them are some who +came out of the hapless Dale within this moon; and it is six months +since I escaped. Moreover, though they may look spent and outworn +now, yet if ye give them a little rest, and feed them well, they +shall yet do many a day's work for you: and I tell you that if ye +take them for thralls, and put collars on their necks, and use them +no worse than a goodman useth his oxen and his asses, beating them +not save when they are idle or at fault, it shall be to them as if +they were come to heaven out of hell, and to such goodhap as they +have not thought of, save in dreams, for many and many a day. And +thus I entreat you to do because ye seem to me to be happy and +merciful men, who will not begrudge us this happiness.' + +The carles of Burgdale listened eagerly to what he said, and they +looked at him with great eyes and marvelled; and their hearts were +moved with pity towards him; and Stone-face said: + +'Herein, O War-leader, need I give thee no rede, for thou mayst see +clearly that all we deem that we should lose our manhood and become +the dastards of the Warrior if we did not abide the coming of these +poor men, and take them back to the Dale, and cherish them.' + +'Yea,' said Wolf of Whitegarth, 'and great thanks we owe to this man +that he biddeth us this: for great will be the gain to us if we +become so like the Gods that we may deliver the poor from misery. +Now must I needs think how they shall wonder when they come to +Burgdale and find out how happy it is to dwell there.' + +'Surely,' said Face-of-god, 'thus shall we do, whatever cometh of it. +But, friend of the wood, as to thralls, there be none such in the +Dale, but therein are all men friends and neighbours, and even so +shall ye be.' + +And he fell a-musing, when he bethought him of how little he had +known of sorrow. + +But that man, when he beheld the happy faces of the Burgdalers, and +hearkened to their friendly voices, and understood what they said, +and he also was become strong with the meat and drink, he bowed his +head adown and wept a long while; and they meddled not with him, till +he turned again to them and said: + +'Since ye are in arms, and seem to be seeking your foemen, I suppose +ye wot that these tyrants and man-quellers will fall upon you in +Burgdale ere the summer is well worn.' + +'So much we deem indeed,' said Face-of-god, 'but we were fain to hear +the certainty of it, and how thou knowest thereof.' + +Said the man: 'It was six moons ago that I fled, as I have told you; +and even then it was the common talk amongst our masters that there +were fair dales to the south which they would overrun. Man would say +to man: We were over many in Silver-dale, and we needed more +thralls, because those we had were lessening, and especially the +women; now are we more at ease in Rose-dale, though we have sent +thralls to Silver-dale; but yet we can bear no more men from thence +to eat up our stock from us: let them fare south to the happy dales, +and conquer them, and we will go with them and help therein, whether +we come back to Rose-dale or no. Such talk did I hear then with mine +own ears: but some of those whom I shall bring to you to-morrow +shall know better what is doing, since they have fled from Rose-dale +but a few days. Moreover, there is a man and a woman who have fled +from Silver-dale itself, and are but a month from it, journeying all +the time save when they must needs hide; and these say that their +masters have got to know the way to Burgdale, and are minded for it +before the winter, as I said; and nought else but the ways thither do +they desire to know, since they have no fear.' + +By then was night come, and though the moon was high in heaven, and +lighted all that waste, the Burgdalers must needs light a fire for +cooking their meat, whatsoever that woodsman might say; moreover, the +night was cold and somewhat frosty. A little before they had come to +that place they had shot a fat buck and some smaller deer, but of +other meat they had no great store, though there was wine enough. So +they lit their fire in the thickest of the thorn-bush to hide it all +they might, and thereat they cooked their venison and the trouts +which the runaway had taken, and they fell to, and ate and drank and +were merry, making much of that poor man till him-seemed he was +gotten into the company of the kindest of the Gods. + +But when they were full, Face-of-god spake to him, and asked him his +name; and he named himself Dallach; but said he: 'Lord, this is +according to the naming of men in Rose-dale before we were +enthralled: but now what names have thralls? Also I am not +altogether of the blood of them of Rose-dale, but of better and more +warrior-like kin.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Thou hast named Silver-dale; knowest thou it?' + +Dallach answered: 'I have never seen it. It is far hence; in a +week's journey, making all diligence, and not being forced to hide +and skulk like those runaways, ye shall come to the mouth thereof +lying west, where its rock-walls fall off toward the plain.' + +'But,' said Face-of-god, 'is there no other way into that Dale?' + +'Nay, none that folk wot of,' said Dallach, 'except to bold cragsmen +with their lives in their hands.' + +'Knowest thou aught of the affairs of Silver-dale?' said Face-of-god. + +Said Dallach: 'Somewhat I know: we wot that but a few years ago +there was a valiant folk dwelling therein, who were lords of the +whole dale, and that they were vanquished by the Dusky Men: but +whether they were all slain and enthralled we wot not; but we deem it +otherwise. As for me it is of their blood that I am partly come; for +my father's father came thence to settle in Rose-dale, and wedded a +woman of the Dale, who was my father's mother.' + +'When was it that ye fell under the Dusky Men?' said Face-of-god. + +Said Dallach: 'It was five years ago. They came into the Dale a +great company, all in arms.' + +'Was there battle betwixt you?' said Face-of-god. + +'Alas! not so,' said Dallach. 'We were a happy folk there; but soft +and delicate: for the Dale is exceeding fertile, and beareth wealth +in abundance, both corn and oil and wine and fruit, and of beasts for +man's service the best that may be. Would that there had been +battle, and that I had died therein with those that had a heart to +fight; and even so saith now every man, yea, every woman in the Dale. +But it was not so when the elders met in our Council-House on the day +when the Dusky Men bade us pay them tribute and give them houses to +dwell in and lands to live by. Then had we weapons in our hands, but +no hearts to use them.' + +'What befell then?' said the goodman of Whitegarth. + +Said Dallach: 'Look ye to it, lords, that it befall not in Burgdale! +We gave them all they asked for, and deemed we had much left. What +befell, sayst thou? We sat quiet; we went about our work in fear and +trembling, for grim and hideous were they to look on. At first they +meddled not much with us, save to take from our houses what they +would of meat and drink, or raiment, or plenishing. And all this we +deemed we might bear, and that we needed no more than to toil a +little more each day so as to win somewhat more of wealth. But soon +we found that it would not be so; for they had no mind to till the +teeming earth or work in the acres we had given them, or to sit at +the loom, or hammer in the stithy, or do any manlike work; it was we +that must do all that for their behoof, and it was altogether for +them that we laboured, and nought for ourselves; and our bodies were +only so much our own as they were needful to be kept alive for +labour. Herein were our tasks harder than the toil of any mules or +asses, save for the younger and goodlier of the women, whom they +would keep fair and delicate to be their bed-thralls. + +'Yet not even so were our bodies safe from their malice: for these +men were not only tyrants, but fools and madmen. Let alone that +there were few days without stripes and torments to satiate their +fury or their pleasure, so that in all streets and nigh any house +might you hear wailing and screaming and groaning; but moreover, +though a wise man would not willingly slay his own thrall any more +than his own horse or ox, yet did these men so wax in folly and +malice, that they would often hew at man or woman as they met them in +the way from mere grimness of soul; and if they slew them it was +well. Thereof indeed came quarrels enough betwixt master and master, +for they are much given to man-slaying amongst themselves: but what +profit to us thereof? Nay, if the dead man were a chieftain, then +woe betide the thralls! for thereof must many an one be slain on his +grave-mound to serve him on the hell-road. To be short: we have +heard of men who be fierce, and men who be grim; but these we may +scarce believe us to be men at all, but trolls rather; and ill will +it be if their race waxeth in the world.' + +The Burgdale men hearkened with all their ears, and wondered that +such things could befall; and they rejoiced at the work that lay +before them, and their hearts rose high at the thought of battle in +that behalf, and the fame that should come of it. As for the +runaway, they made so much of him that the man marvelled; for they +dealt with him like a woman cherishing a son, and knew not how to be +kind enough to him. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. THE MEN OF BURGDALE MEET THE RUNAWAYS + + + +Now ere the night was far spent, Dallach arose and said: + +'Kind folk, ye will presently be sleeping; but I bid you keep a good +watch, and if ye will be ruled by me, ye will kindle no fire on the +morrow, for the smoke riseth thick in the morning air, and is as a +beacon. As for me, I shall leave you here to rest, and I myself will +fare on mine errand.' + +They bade him sleep and rest him after so many toils and hardships, +saying that they were not tied to an hour to be back in Burgdale; but +he said: 'Nay, the moon is high, and it is as good as daylight to +me, who could find my way even by starlight; and your tarrying here +is nowise safe. Moreover, if I could find those folk and bring them +part of the way by night and cloud it were well; for if we were taken +again, burning quick would be the best death by which we should die. +As for me, now am I strong with meat and drink and hope; and when I +come to Burgdale there will be time enough for resting and slumber.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Shall I not wend with thee to see these people +and the lairs wherein they hide?' + +The man smiled: 'Nay, earl,' said he, 'that shall not be. For wot +ye what? If they were to see me in company of a man-at-arms they +would deem that I was bringing the foe upon them, and would flee, or +mayhappen would fall upon us. For as for me, when I saw thee, thou +wert close anigh me, so I knew thee to be no Dusky Man; but they +would see the glitter of thine arms from afar, and to them all +weaponed men are foemen. Thou, lord, knowest not the heart of a +thrall, nor the fear and doubt that is in it. Nay, I myself must +cast off these clothes that ye have given me, and fare naked, lest +they mistrust me. Only I will take a spear in my hand, and sling a +knife round my neck, if ye will give them to me; for if the worst +happen, I will not be taken alive.' + +Therewith he cast off his raiment, and they gave him the weapons and +wished him good speed, and he went his way twixt moonlight and +shadow; but the Burgdalers went to sleep when they had set a watch. + +Early in the morning they awoke, and the sun was shining and the +thrushes singing in the thorn-brake, and all seemed fair and +peaceful, and a little haze still hung about the face of the burg +over the river. So they went down to the water and washed the night +from off them; and thence the most part of them went back to their +lair among the thorn-bushes: but four of them went up the dale into +the oak-wood to shoot a buck, and five more they sent out to watch +their skirts around them; and Face-of-god with old Stone-face went +over a ford of the stream, and came on to the lower slope of the +burg, and so went up it to the top. Thence they looked about to see +if aught were stirring, but they saw little save the waste and the +wood, which on the north-east was thick of big trees stretching out a +long way. Their own lair was clear to see over its bank and the +bushes thereof, and that misliked Face-of-god, lest any foe should +climb the burg that day. The morning was clear, and Face-of-god +looking north-and-by-west deemed he saw smoke rising into the air +over the tree-covered ridges that hid the further distance toward +that airt, though further east uphove the black shoulders of the +Great that Waste and the snowy peaks behind them. The said smoke was +not such as cometh from one great fire, but was like a thin veil +staining the pale blue sky, as when men are burning ling on the +heath-side and it is seen aloof. + +He showed that smoke to Stone-face, who smiled and said: + +'Now will they be lighting the cooking fires in Rose-dale: would I +were there with a few hundreds of axes and staves at my back!' + +'Yea,' said Face-of-god, smiling in his face, 'but where I pray thee +are these elves and wood-wights, that we meet them not? Grim things +there are in the woods, and things fair enough also: but meseemeth +that the trolls and the elves of thy young years have been frighted +away.' + +Said Stone-face: 'Maybe, foster-son; that hath been seen ere now, +that when one race of man overrunneth the land inhabited by another, +the wights and elves that love the vanquished are seen no more, or +get them away far off into the outermost wilds, where few men ever +come.' + +'Yea,' said Face-of-god, 'that may well be. But deemest thou by that +token that we shall be vanquished?' + +'As for us, I know not,' said Stone-face; 'but thy friends of Shadowy +Vale have been vanquished. Moreover, concerning these felons whom +now we are hunting, are we all so sure that they be men? Certain it +is, that when I go into battle with them, I shall smite with no more +pity than my sword, as if I were smiting things that may not feel the +woes of man.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Yea, even so shall it be with me. But what +thinkest thou of these runaways? Shall we have tidings of them, or +shall Dallach bring the foe upon us? It was for the sake of that +question that I have clomb the burg: and that we might watch the +land about us.' + +'Nay,' said Stone-face, 'I have seen many men, and I deem of Dallach +that he is a true man. I deem we shall soon have tidings of his +fellows; and they may have seen the elves and wood-wights: I would +fain ask them thereof, and am eager to see them.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'And I somewhat dread to see them, and their rags +and their misery and the weals of their stripes. It irked me to see +Dallach when he first fell to his meat last night, how he ate like a +dog for fear and famine. How shall it be, moreover, when we have +them in the Dale, and they fall to the deed of kind there, as they +needs must. Will they not bear us evil and thrall-like men?' + +'Maybe,' said Stone-face, 'and maybe not; for they have been thralls +but for a little while: and I deem that in no long time shall ye see +them much bettered by plenteous meat and rest. And after all is +said, this Dallach bore him like a valiant man; also it was valiant +of him to flee; and of the others may ye say the like. But look you! +there are men going down yonder towards our lair: belike those shall +be our guests, and there be no Dusky Men amongst them. Come, let us +home!' + +So Face-of-god looked and beheld from the height of the burg shapes +of men grey and colourless creeping toward the lair from sunshine to +shadow, like wild creatures shy and fearful of the hunter, or so he +deemed of them. + +So he turned away, angry and sad of heart, and the twain went down +the burg and across the water to their camp, having seen little to +tell of from the height. + +When they came to their campment there were their folk standing in a +ring round about Dallach and the other runaways. They made way for +the War-leader and Stone-face, who came amongst them and beheld the +Runaways, that they were many more than they looked to see; for they +were of carles one score and three, and of women eighteen, all told +save Dallach. When they saw those twain come through the ring of men +and perceived that they were chieftains, some of them fell down on +their knees before them and held out their joined hands to them, and +kissed the Burgdalers' feet and the hems of their garments, while the +tears streamed out of their eyes: some stood moving little and +staring before them stupidly: and some kept glancing from face to +face of the well-liking happy Burgdale carles, though for a while +even their faces were sad and downcast at the sight of the poor men: +some also kept murmuring one or two words in their country tongue, +and Dallach told Face-of-god that these were crying out for victual. + +It must be said of these poor folk that they were of divers +conditions, and chiefly of three: and first there were seven of +Rose-dale and five of Silver-dale late come to the wood (of these +Silver-dalers Dallach had told but of two, for the other three were +but just come). Of these twelve were seven women, and all, save two +of the women, were clad in one scanty kirtle or shirt only; for such +was the wont of the Dusky Men with their thralls. They had brought +away weapons, and had amongst them six axes and a spear, and a sword, +and five knives, and one man had a shield. + +Yet though these were clad and armed, yet in some wise were they the +worst of all; they were so timorous and cringing, and most of them +heavy-eyed and sullen and down-looking. Many of them had been +grievously mishandled: one man had had his left hand smitten off; +another was docked of three of his toes, and the gristle of his nose +slit up; one was halt, and four had been ear-cropped, nor did any +lack weals of whipping. Of the Silver-dale new-comers the three men +were the worst of all the Runaways, with wild wandering eyes, but +sullen also, and cringing if any drew nigh, and would not look anyone +in the face, save presently Face-of-god, on whom they were soon fond +to fawn, as a dog on his master. But the women who were with them, +and who were well-nigh as timorous as the men, were those two gaily- +dad ones, and they were soft-handed and white-skinned, save for the +last days of weather in the wood; for they had been bed-thralls of +the Dusky Men. + +Such were the new-comers to the wood. But others had been, like +Dallach, months therein; it may be said that there were eighteen of +these, carles and queens together. Little raiment they had amongst +them, and some were all but stark naked, so that on these might well +be seen as on Dallach the marks of old stripes, and of these also +were there men who had been shorn of some member or other, and they +were all burnt and blackened by the weather of the woodland; yet for +all their nakedness, they bore themselves bolder and more manlike +than the later comers, nor did they altogether lack weapons taken +from their foemen, and most of them had some edge-tool or another. +Of these folk were four from Silver-dale, though Dallach knew it not. + +Besides these were a half score and one who had been years in the +wood instead of months; weather-beaten indeed were these, shaggy and +rough-skinned like wild men of kind. Some of them had made +themselves skin breeches or clouts, some went stark naked; of weapons +of the Dale had they few, but they bore bows of hazel or wych-elm +strung with deer-gut, and shafts headed with flint stones; staves +also of the same fashion, and great clubs of oak or holly: some of +them also had made them targets of skin and willow-twigs, for these +were the warriors of the Runaways: they had a few steel knives +amongst them, but had mostly learned the craft of using sharp flints +for knives: but four of these were women. + +Three of these men were of the kindreds of the Wolf from Silver-dale, +and had been in the wood for hard upon ten years, and wild as they +were, and without hope of meeting their fellows again, they went +proudly and boldly amongst the others, overtopping them by the head +and more. For the greater part of these men were somewhat short of +stature, though by nature strong and stout of body. + +It must be told that though Dallach had thus gotten all these many +Runaways together, yet had they not been dwelling together as one +folk; for they durst not, lest the Dusky Men should hear thereof and +fall upon them, but they had kept themselves as best they could in +caves and in brakes three together or two, or even faring alone as +Dallach did: only as he was a strong and stout-hearted man, he went +to and fro and wandered about more than the others, so that he +foregathered with most of them and knew them. He said also that he +doubted not but that there were more Runaways in the wood, but these +were all he could come at. Divers who had fled had died from time to +time, and some had been caught and cruelly slain by their masters. +They were none of them old; the oldest, said Dallach, scant of forty +winters, though many from their aspect might have been old enough. + +So Face-of-god looked and beheld all these poor people; and said to +himself, that he might well have dreaded that sight. For here was he +brought face to face with the Sorrow of the Earth, whereof he had +known nought heretofore, save it might be as a tale in a minstrel's +song. And when he thought of the minutes that had made the hours, +and the hours that had made the days that these men had passed +through, his heart failed him, and he was dumb and might not speak, +though he perceived that the men of Burgdale looked for speech from +him; but he waved his hand to his folk, and they understood him, for +they had heard Dallach say that some of them were crying for victual. +So they set to work and dighted for them such meat as they had, and +they set them down on the grass and made themselves their carvers and +serving-men, and bade them eat what they would of such as there was. +Yet, indeed, it grieved the Burgdalers again to note how these folk +were driven to eat; for they themselves, though they were merry folk, +were exceeding courteous at table, and of great observance of +manners: whereas these poor Runaways ate, some of them like hungry +dogs, and some hiding their meat as if they feared it should be taken +from them, and some cowering over it like falcons, and scarce any +with a manlike pleasure in their meal. And, their eating over, the +more part of them sat dull and mopish, and as if all things were +forgotten for the time present. + +Albeit presently Dallach bestirred him and said to Face-of-god: +'Lord of the Earl-folk, if I might give thee rede, it were best to +turn your faces to Burgdale without more tarrying. For we are over- +nigh to Rose-dale, being but thus many in company. But when we come +to our next resting-place, then shall bring thee to speech with the +last-comers from Silver-dale; for there they talk with the tongue of +the kindreds; but we of Rose-dale for the more part talk otherwise; +though in my house it came down from father to son.' + +'Yea,' said Face-of-god, gazing still on that unhappy folk, as they +sat or lay upon the grass at rest for a little while: but him-seemed +as he gazed that some memories of past time stirred in some of them; +for some, they hung their heads and the tears stole out of their eyes +and rolled down their cheeks. But those older Runaways of Silver- +dale were not crouched down like most of the others, but strode up +and down like beasts in a den; yet were the tears on the face of one +of these. Then Face-of-god constrained himself, and spake to the +folk, and said: 'We are now over-nigh to our foes of Rose-dale to +lie here any longer, being too few to fall upon them. We will come +hither again with a host when we have duly questioned these men who +have sought refuge with us: and let us call yonder height the Burg +of the Runaways, and it shall be a landmark for us when we are on the +road to Rose-dale.' + +Then the Burgdalers bade the Runaways courteously and kindly to arise +and take the road with them; and by that time were their men all come +in; and four of them had venison with them, which was needful, if +they were to eat that night or the morrow, as the guests had eaten +them to the bone. + +So they tarried no more, but set out on the homeward way; and Face- +of-god bade Dallach walk beside him, and asked him such concerning +Rose-dale and its Dusky Men. Dallach told him that these were not so +many as they were masterful, not being above eight hundreds of men, +all fighting-men. As to women, they had none of their own race, but +lay with the Daleswomen at their will, and begat children of them; +and all or most of the said children favoured the race of their +begetters. Of the men-children they reared most, but the women- +children they slew at once; for they valued not women of their own +blood: but besides the women of the Dale, they would go at whiles in +bands to the edges of the Plain and beguile wayfarers, and bring back +with them thence women to be their bed-thralls; albeit some of these +were bought with a price from the Westland men. + +As to the number of the folk of Rose-dale, its own folk, he said they +would number some five thousand souls, one with another; of whom some +thousand might be fit to bear arms if they had the heart thereto, as +they had none. Yet being closely questioned, he deemed that they +might fall on their masters from behind, if battle were joined. + +He said that the folk of Rose-dale had been a goodly folk before they +were enthralled, and peaceable with one another, but that now it was +a sport of the Dusky Men to set a match between their thralls to +fight it out with sword and buckler or otherwise; and the vanquished +man, if he were not sore hurt, they would scourge, or shear some +member from him, or even slay him outright, if the match between the +owners were so made. And many other sad and grievous tales he told +to Face-of-god, more than need be told again; so that the War-leader +went along sorry and angry, with his teeth set, and his hand on the +sword-hilt. + +Thus they went till night fell on them, and they could scarce see the +signs they had made on their outward journey. Then they made stay in +a little valley, having set a watch duly; and since they were by this +time far from Rose-dale, and were a great company as regarded +scattered bands of the foe, they lighted their fires and cooked their +venison, and made good cheer to the Runaways, and so went to sleep in +the wild-wood. + +When morning was come they gat them at once to the road; and if the +Burgdalers were eager to be out of the wood, their eagerness was as +nought to the eagerness of the Runaways, most of whom could not be +easy now, and deemed every minute lost unless they were wending on to +the Dale; so that this day they were willing to get over the more +ground, whereas they had not set out on their road till afternoon +yesterday. + +Howsoever, they rested at noontide, and Face-of-god bade Dallach +bring him to speech with others of the Runaways, and first that he +might talk with those three men of the kindreds who had fled from +Silver-dale in early days. So Dallach brought them to him; but he +found that though they spake the tongue, they were so few-spoken from +wildness and loneliness, at least at first, that nought could come +from them that was not dragged from them. + +These men said that they had been in the wood more than nine years, +so that they knew but little of the conditions of the Dale in that +present day. However, as to what Dallach had said concerning the +Dusky Men, they strengthened his words; and they said that the Dusky +Men took no delight save in beholding torments and misery, and that +they doubted if they were men or trolls. They said that since they +had dwelt in the wood they had slain not a few of the foemen, +waylaying them as occasion served, but that in this warfare they had +lost two of their fellows. When Face-of-god asked them of their +deeming of the numbers of the Dusky Men, they said that before those +bands had broken into Rose-dale, they counted them, as far as they +could call to mind, at about three thousand men, all warriors; and +that somewhat less than one thousand had gone up into Rose-dale, and +some had died, and many had been cast away in the wild-wood, their +fellows knew not how. Yet had not their numbers in Silver-dale +diminished; because two years after they (the speakers) had fled, +came three more Dusky Companies or Tribes into Silver-dale, and each +of these tribes was of three long hundreds; and with their coming had +the cruelty and misery much increased in the Dale, so that the +thralls began to die fast; and that drave the Dusky Men beyond the +borders of Silver-dale, so that they fell upon Rose-dale. When asked +how many of the kindreds might yet be abiding in Silver-dale, their +faces clouded, and they seemed exceeding wroth, and answered, that +they would willingly hope that most of those that had not been slain +at the time of the overthrow were now dead, yet indeed they feared +there were yet some alive, and mayhappen not a few women. + +By then must they get on foot again, and so the talk fell between +them; but when they made stay for the night, after they had done +their meat, Face-of-god prayed Dallach bring to him some of the +latest-come folk from Silver-dale, and he brought to him the man and +the woman who had been in the Dale within that moon. As to the man, +if those of the Earl-folk had been few-spoken from fierceness and +wildness, he was no less so from mere dulness and weariness of +misery; but the woman's tongue went glibly enough, and it seemed to +pleasure her to talk about her past miseries. As aforesaid, she was +better clad than most of those of Rose-dale, and indeed might be +called gaily clad, and where her raiment was befouled or rent, it was +from the roughness of the wood and its weather, and not from the +thralldom. She was a young and fair woman, black-haired and grey- +eyed. She had washed herself that day in a woodland stream which +they had crossed on the road, and had arrayed her garments as trimly +as she might, and had plucked some fumitory, wherewith she had made a +garland for her head. She sat down on the grass in front of Face-of- +god, while the man her mate stood leaning against a tree and looked +on her greedily. The Burgdale carles drew near to her to hearken her +story, and looked kindly on the twain. She smiled on them, but +especially on Face-of-god, and said: + +'Thou hast sent for me, lord, and I wot well thou wouldst hear my +tale shortly, for it would be long to tell if I were to tell it +fully, and bring into it all that I have endured, which has been +bitter enough, for all that ye see me smooth of skin and well-liking +of body. I have been the bed-thrall of one of the chieftains of the +Dusky Men, at whose house many of their great men would assemble, so +that ye may ask me whatso ye will; as I have heard much talk and may +call it to mind. Now if ye ask me whether I have fled because of the +shame that I, a free woman come of free folk, should be a mere thrall +in the bed of the foes of my kin, and with no price paid for me, I +must needs say it is not so; since over long have we of the Dale been +thralls to be ashamed of such a matter. And again, if ye deem that I +have fled because I have been burdened with grievous toil and been +driven thereto by the whip, ye may look on my hands and my body and +ye will see that I have toiled little therewith: nor again did I +flee because I could not endure a few stripes now and again; for such +usage do thralls look for, even when they are delicately kept for the +sake of the fairness of their bodies, and this they may well endure; +yea also, and the mere fear of death by torment now and again. But +before me lay death both assured and horrible; so I took mine own +counsel, and told none for fear of bewrayal, save him who guarded me; +and that was this man; who fled not from fear, but from love of me, +and to him I have given all that I might give. So we got out of the +house and down the Dale by night and cloud, and hid for one whole day +in the Dale itself, where I trembled and feared, so that I deemed I +should die of fear; but this man was well pleased with my company, +and with the lack of toil and beating even for the day. And in the +night again we fled and reached the wild-wood before dawn, and well- +nigh fell into the hands of those who were hunting us, and had +outgone us the day before, as we lay hid. Well, what is to say? +They saw us not, else had we not been here, but scattered piece-meal +over the land. This carle knew the passes of the wood, because he +had followed his master therein, who was a great hunter in the +wastes, contrary to the wont of these men, and he had lain a night on +the burg yonder; therefore he brought me thither, because he knew +that thereabout was plenty of prey easy to take, and he had a bow +with him; and there we fell in with others of our folk who had fled +before, and with Dallach; who e'en now told us what was hard to +believe, that there was a fair young man like one of the Gods leading +a band of goodly warriors, and seeking for us to bring us into a +peaceful and happy land; and this man would not have gone with him +because he feared that he might fall into thralldom of other folk, +who would take me away from him; but for me, I said I would go in any +case, for I was weary of the wood and its roughness and toil, and +that if I had a new master he would scarcely be worse than my old one +was at his best, and him I could endure. So I went, and glad and +glad I am, whatever ye will do with me. And now will I answer whatso +ye may ask of me.' + +She laid her limbs together daintily and looked fondly on Face-of- +god, and the carle scowled at her somewhat at first, but presently, +as he watched her, his face smoothed itself out of its wrinkles. + +But Face-of-god pondered a little while, and then asked the woman if +she had heard any words to remember of late days concerning the +affairs of the Dusky Men and their intent; and he said: + +'I pray thee, sister, be truthful in thine answer, for somewhat lieth +on it.' + +She said: 'How could I speak aught but the sooth to thee, O lovely +lord? The last word spoken hereof I mind me well: for my master had +been mishandling me, and I was sullen to him after the smart, and he +mocked and jeered me, and said: Ye women deem we cannot do without +you, but ye are fools, and know nothing; we are going to conquer a +new land where the women are plenty, and far fairer than ye be; and +we shall leave you to fare afield like the other thralls, or work in +the digging of silver; and belike ye wot what that meaneth. Also he +said that they would leave us to the new tribe of their folk, far +wilder than they, whom they looked for in the Dale in about a moon's +wearing; so that they needs must seek to other lands. Also this same +talk would we hear whenever it pleased any of them to mock us their +bed-thralls. Now, my sweet lord, this is nought but the very sooth.' + +Again spake Face-of-god after a while: + +'Tell me, sister, hast thou heard of any of the Dusky Men being slain +in the wood?' + +'Yea,' she said, and turned pale therewith and caught her breath as +one choking; but said in a little while: + +'This alone was it hard for me to tell thee amongst all the I griefs +I have borne, whereof I might have told thee many tales, and will do +one day if thou wilt suffer it; but fear makes this hard for me. For +in very sooth this was the cause of my fleeing, that my master was +brought in slain by an arrow in the wood; and he was to be borne to +bale and burned in three days' wearing; and we three bed-thralls of +his, and three of the best of the men-thralls, were to be burned +quick on his bale-fire after sore torments; therefore I fled, and hid +a knife in my bosom, that I might not be taken alive; but sweet was +life to me, and belike I should not have smitten myself.' + +And she wept sore for pity of herself before them all. But Face-of- +god said: + +'Knowest thou, sister, by whom the man was slain?' + +'Nay,' she said, still sobbing; 'but I heard nought thereof, nor had +I noted it in my terror. The death of others, who were slain before +him, and the loss of many, we knew not how, made them more bitterly +cruel with us.' + +And again was she weeping; but Face-of-god said kindly to her: 'Weep +no more, sister, for now shall all thy troubles be over; I feel in my +heart that we shall overcome these felons, and make an end of them, +and there then is Burgdale for thee in its length and breadth, or +thine own Dale to dwell in freely.' + +'Nay,' she said, 'never will I go back thither!' and she turned round +to him and kissed his feet, and then arose and turned a little toward +her mate; and the carle caught her by the hand and led her away, and +seemed glad so to do. + +So once again they fell asleep in the woods, and again the next +morning fared on their way early that they might come into Burgdale +before nightfall. When they stayed a while at noontide and ate, +Face-of-god again had talk with the Runaways, and this time with +those of Rose-dale, and he heard much the same story from them that +he had heard before, told in divers ways, till his heart was sick +with the hearing of it. + +On this last day Face-of-god led his men well athwart the wood, so +that he hit Wildlake's Way without coming to Carl-stead; and he came +down into the Dale some four hours after noon on a bright day of +latter March. At the ingate to the Dale he found watches set, the +men whereof told him that the tidings were not right great. Hall- +face's company had fallen in with a band of the Felons three score in +number in the oak-wood nigh to Boars-bait, and had slain some and +chased the rest, since they found it hard to follow them home as they +ran for the tangled thicket: of the Burgdalers had two been slain +and five hurt in this battle. + +As for Red-coat's company, they had fallen in with no foemen. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. THEY BRING THE RUNAWAYS TO BURGSTEAD + + + +So now being out of the wood, they went peaceably and safely along +the Portway, the Runaways mingling with the Dalesmen. Strange showed +amidst the health and wealth of the Dale the rags and misery and +nakedness of the thralls, like a dream amidst the trim gaiety of +spring; and whomsoever they met, or came up with on the road, whatso +his business might be, could not refrain himself from following them, +but mingled with the men-at-arms, and asked them of the tidings; and +when they heard who these poor people were, even delivered thralls of +the Foemen, they were glad at heart and cried out for joy; and many +of the women, nay, of the men also, when they first came across that +misery from out the heart of their own pleasant life, wept for pity +and love of the poor folk, now at last set free, and blessed the +swords that should do the like by the whole people. + +They went slowly as men began to gather about them; yea, some of the +good folk that lived hard by must needs fare home to their houses to +fetch cakes and wine for the guests; and they made them sit down and +rest on the green grass by the side of the Portway, and eat and drink +to cheer their hearts; others, women and young swains, while they +rested went down into the meadows and plucked of the spring flowers, +and twined them hastily with deft and well-wont fingers into chaplets +and garlands for their heads and bodies. Thus indeed they covered +their nakedness, till the lowering faces and weather-beaten skins of +those hardly-entreated thralls looked grimly out from amidst the +knots of cowslip and oxlip, and the branches of the milk-white +blackthorn bloom, and the long trumpets of the daffodils, of the hue +that wrappeth round the quill which the webster takes in hand when +she would pleasure her soul with the sight of the yellow growing upon +the dark green web. + +So they went on again as the evening was waning, and when they were +gotten within a furlong of the Gate, lo! there was come the +minstrelsy, the pipe and the tabor, the fiddle and the harp, and the +folk that had learned to sing the sweetest, both men and women, and +Redesman at the head of them all. + +Then fell the throng into an ordered company; first went the music, +and then a score of Face-of-god's warriors with drawn swords and +uplifted spears; and then the flower-bedecked misery of the Runaways, +men and women going together, gaunt, befouled, and hollow-eyed, with +here and there a flushed cheek or gleaming eye, or tear-bedewed face, +as the joy and triumph of the eve pierced through their wonted +weariness of grief; then the rest of the warriors, and lastly the +mingled crowd of Dalesfolk, tall men and fair women gaily arrayed, +clean-faced, clear-skinned, and sleek-haired, with glancing eyes and +ruddy lips. + +And now Redesman turned about to the music and drew his bow across +his fiddle, and the other bows ran out in concert, and the harps +followed the story of them, and he lifted up his voice and sang the +words of an old song, and all the singers joined him and blended +their voices with his. And these are some of the words which they +sang: + + +Lo! here is Spring, and all we are living, + We that were wan with Winter's fear; +Reach out your hands to her hands that are giving, + Lest ye lose her love and the light of the year. + +Many a morn did we wake to sorrow, + When low on the land the cloud-wrath lay; +Many an eve we feared to-morrow, + The unbegun unfinished day. + +Ah we--we hoped not, and thou wert tardy; + Nought wert thou helping; nought we prayed. +Where was the eager heart, the hardy? + Where was the sweet-voiced unafraid? + +But now thou lovest, now thou leadest, + Where is gone the grief of our minds? +What was the word of the tale, that thou heedest + E'en as the breath of the bygone winds? + +Green and green is thy garment growing + Over thy blossoming limbs beneath; +Up o'er our feet rise the blades of thy sowing, + Pierced are our hearts with thine odorous breath. + +But where art thou wending, thou new-comer? + Hurrying on to the Courts of the Sun? +Where art thou now in the House of the Summer? + Told are thy days and thy deed is done. + +Spring has been here for us that are living + After the days of Winter's fear; +Here in our hands is the wealth of her giving, + The Love of the Earth, and the Light of the Year. + + +Thus came they to the Gate, and lo! the Bride thereby, leaning +against a buttress, gazing with no dull eyes at the coming throng. +She was now clad in her woman's attire again, to wit a light flame- +coloured gown over a green kirtle; but she yet bore a gilded helm on +her head and a sword girt to her side in token of her oath to the +God. She had been in Hall-face's company in that last battle, and +had done a man's service there, fighting very valiantly, but had not +been hurt, and had come back to Burgstead when the shift of men was. + +Now she drew herself up and stood a little way before the Gate and +looked forth on the throng, and when her eyes beheld the Runaways +amidst of the weaponed carles of Burgdale, her face flushed, and her +eyes filled with tears as she stood, partly wondering, partly deeming +what they were. She waited till Stone-face came by her, and then she +took the old man by the sleeve, and drew him apart a little and said +to him: 'What meaneth this show, my friend? Who hath clad these +folk thus strangely; and who be these three naked tall ones, so +fierce-looking, but somewhat noble of aspect?' + +For indeed those three men of the kindreds, when they had gotten into +the Dale, and had rested them, and drunk a cup of wine, and when they +had seen the chaplets and wreaths of the spring-flowers wherewith +they were bedecked, and had smelt the sweet savour of them, fell to +walking proudly, heeding not their nakedness; for no rag had they +upon them save breech-clouts of deer-skin: they had changed weapons +with the Burgdale carles; and one had gotten a great axe, which he +bore over his shoulder, and the shaft thereof was all done about with +copper; and another had shouldered a long heavy thrusting-spear, and +the third, an exceeding tall man, bore a long broad-bladed war-sword. +Thus they went, brown of skin beneath their flower-garlands, their +long hair bleached by the sun falling about their shoulders; high +they strode amongst the shuffling carles and tripping women of the +later-come thralls. But when they heard the music, and saw that they +were coming to the Gate in triumph, strange thoughts of old memories +swelled up in their hearts, and they refrained them not from weeping, +for they felt that the joy of life had come back to them. + +Nor must it be deemed that these were the only ones amongst the +Runaways whose hearts were cheered and softened: already were many +of them coming back to life, as they felt their worn bodies caressed +by the clear soft air of Burgdale, and the sweetness of the flowers +that hung about them, and saw all round about the kind and happy +faces of their well-willers. + +So Stone-face looked on the Bride as she stood with face yet tear- +bedewed, awaiting his answer, and said: + +'Daughter, thou sayest who clad these folk thus? It was misery that +hath so dight them; and they are the images of what we shall be if we +love foul life better than fair death, and so fall into the hands of +the Felons, who were the masters of these men. As for the tall naked +men, they are of our own blood, and kinsmen to Face-of-god's new +friends; and they are of the best of the vanquished: it was in early +days that they fled from thralldom; as we may have to do. Now, +daughter, I bid thee be as joyous as thou art valiant, and then shall +all be well.' + +Therewith she smiled on him, and he departed, and she stood a little +while, as the throng moved on and was swallowed by the Gate, and +looked after them; and for all her pity for the other folk, she +thought chiefly of those fearless tall men who were of the blood of +those with whom it was lawful to wed. + +There she stood as the wind dried the tears upon her cheeks, thinking +of the sorrow which these folk had endured, and their stripes and +mocking, their squalor and famine; and she wondered and looked on her +own fair and shapely hands with the precious finger-rings thereon, +and on the dainty cloth and trim broidery of her sleeve; and she +touched her smooth cheek with the back of her hand, and smiled, and +felt the spring sweet in her mouth, and its savour goodly in her +nostrils; and therewith she called to mind the aspect of her lovely +body, as whiles she had seen it imaged, all its full measure, in the +clear pool at midsummer, or piece-meal, in the shining steel of the +Westland mirror. She thought also with what joy she drew the breath +of life, yea, even amidst of grief, and of how sweet and pure and +well-nurtured she was, and how well beloved of many friends and the +whole folk, and she set all this beside those woeful bodies and +lowering faces, and felt shame of her sorrow of heart, and the pain +it had brought to her; and ever amidst shame and pity of all that +misery rose up before her the images of those tall fierce men, and it +seemed to her as if she had seen something like to them in some dream +or imagination of her mind. + +So came the Burgdalers and their guests into the street of Burgstead +amidst music and singing; and the throng was great there. Then Face- +of-god bade make a ring about the strangers, and they did so, and he +and the Runaways alone were in the midst of it; and he spake in a +loud voice and said: + +'Men of the Dale and the Burg, these folk whom here ye see in such a +sorry plight are they whom our deadly foes have rejoiced to torment; +let us therefore rejoice to cherish them. Now let those men come +forth who deem that they have enough and more, so that they may each +take into their houses some two or three of these friends such as +would be fain to be together. And since I am War-leader, and have +the right hereto, I will first choose them whom I will lead into the +House of the Face. And lo you! will I have this man (and he laid his +hand on Dallach),who is he whom I first came across, and who found us +all these others, and next I will have yonder tall carles, the three +of them, because I perceive them to be men meet to be with a War- +leader, and to follow him in battle.' + +Therewith he drew the three Men of the Wolf towards him, but Dallach +already was standing beside him. And folk rejoiced in Face-of-god. + +But the Bride came forward next, and spake to him meekly and simply: + +'War-leader, let me have of the women those who need me most, that I +may bring them to the House of the Steer, and try if there be not +some good days yet to be found for them, wherein they shall but +remember the past grief as an ugly dream.' + +Then Face-of-god looked on her, and him-seemed he had never seen her +so fair; and all the shame wherewith he had beheld her of late was +gone from him, and his heart ran over with friendly love towards her +as she looked into his face with kindly eyes; and he said: + +'Kinswoman, take thy choice as thy kindness biddeth, and happy shall +they be whom thou choosest.' + +She bowed her head soberly, and chose from among the guests four +women of the saddest and most grievous, and no man of their kindred +spake for going along with them; then she went her ways home, leading +one of them by the hand, and strange was it to see those twain going +through sun and shade together, that poor wretch along with the +goodliest of women. + +Then came forward one after other of the worthy goodmen of the Dale, +and especially such as were old, and they led away one one man, and +another two, and another three, and often would a man crave to go +with a woman or a woman with a man, and it was not gainsaid them. So +were all the guests apportioned, and ill-content were those goodmen +that had to depart without a guest; and one man would say to another: +'Such-an-one, be not downcast; this guest shall be between us, if he +will, and shall dwell with thee and me month about; but this first +month with me, since I was first comer.' And so forth was it said. + +Now to prevent the time to come, it may be said about the Runaways, +that when they had been a little while amongst the Burgdalers, well +fed and well clad and kindly cherished, it was marvellous how they +were bettered in aspect of body, and it began to be seen of them that +they were well-favoured people, and divers of the women exceeding +goodly, black-haired and grey-eyed, and very clear-skinned and white- +skinned; most of them were young, and the oldest had not seen above +forty winters. They of Rose-dale, and especially such as had first +fled away to the wood, were very soon seen to be merry and kindly +folk; but they who had been longest in captivity, and notably those +from Silver-dale who were not of the kindreds, were for a long time +sullen and heavy, and it availed little to trust to them for the +doing of work; albeit they would follow about their friends of +Burgdale with the love of a dog; also they were, divers of them, +somewhat thievish, and if they lacked anything would liefer take it +by stealth than ask for it; which forsooth the Burgdale men took not +amiss, but deemed of it as a jest rather. + +Very few of the Runaways had any will to fare back to their old +homes, or indeed could be got to go into the wood, or, after a day or +two, to say any word of Rose-dale or Silver-dale. In this and other +matters the Burgdalers dealt with them as with children who must have +their way; for they deemed that their guests had much time to make +up; also they were well content when they saw how goodly they were, +for these Dalesmen loved to see men goodly of body and of a cheerful +countenance. + +As for Dallach and the three Silver-dale men of the kindred, they +went gladly whereas the Burgdale men would have them; and half a +score others took weapons in their hands when the war was foughten: +concerning which more hereafter. + +But on the even whereof the tale now tells, Face-of-god and Stone- +face and their company met after nightfall in the Hall of the Face +clad in glorious raiment, and therewith were Dallach and the men of +Silver-dale, washen and docked of their long hair, after the fashion +of warriors who bear the helm; and they were clad in gay attire, with +battle-swords girt to their sides and gold rings on their arms. +Somewhat stern and sad-eyed were those Silver-dalers yet, though they +looked on those about them kindly and courteously when they met their +eyes; and Face-of-god yearned towards them when he called to mind the +beauty and wisdom and loving-kindness of the Sun-beam. They were, as +aforesaid, strong men and tall, and one of them taller than any +amidst that house of tall men. Their names were Wolf-stone, the +tallest, and God-swain, and Spear-fist; and God-swain the youngest +was of thirty winters, and Wolf-stone of forty. They came into the +Hall in such wise, that when they were washed and attired, and all +men were assembled in the Hall, and the Alderman and the chieftains +sitting on the dais, Face-of-god brought them in from the out-bower, +holding Dallach by the right hand and Wolf-stone by the left; and he +looked but a stripling beside that huge man. + +And when the men in the Hall beheld such goodly warriors, and +remembered their grief late past, they all stood up and shouted for +joy of them. But Face-of-god passed up the Hall with them, and stood +before the dais and said: + +'O Alderman of the Dale and Chief of the House of the Face, here I +bring to you the foes of our foemen, whom I have met in the Wild- +wood, and bidden to our House; and meseemeth they will be our +friends, and stand beside us in the day of battle. Therefore I say, +take these guests and me together, or put us all to the door +together; and if thou wilt take them, then show them to such places +as thou deemest meet.' + +Then stood up the Alderman and said: + +'Men of Silver-dale and Rose-dale, I bid you welcome! Be ye our +friends, and abide here with us as long as seemeth good to you, and +share in all that is ours. Son Face-of-god, show these warriors to +seats on the dais beside thee, and cherish them as well as thou +knowest how.' + +Then Face-of-god brought them up on to the dais and sat down on the +right hand of his father, with Dallach on his right hand, and then +Wolf-stone out from him; then sat Stone-face, that there might be a +man of the Dale to talk with them and serve them; and on his right +hand first Spear-fist and then God-swain. And when they were all sat +down, and the meat was on the board, Iron-face turned to his son +Face-of-god and took his hand, and said in a loud voice, so that many +might hear him: + +'Son Face-of-god, son Gold-mane, thou bearest with thee both ill luck +and good. Erewhile, when thou wanderedst out into the Wild-wood, +seeking thou knewest not what from out of the Land of Dreams, thou +didst but bring aback to us grief and shame; but now that thou hast +gone forth with the neighbours seeking thy foemen, thou hast come +aback to us with thine hands full of honour and joy for us, and we +thank thee for thy gifts, and I call thee a lucky man. Herewith, +kinsman, I drink to thee and the lasting of thy luck.' + +Therewith he stood up and drank the health of the War-leader and the +Guests: and all men were exceeding joyous thereat, when they called +to mind his wrath at the Gate-thing, and they shouted for gladness as +they drank that health, and the feast became exceeding merry in the +House of the Face; and as to the war to come, it seemed to them as if +it were over and done in all triumph. + + + +CHAPTER XXX. HALL-FACE GOETH TOWARD ROSE-DALE + + + +On the morrow Face-of-god took counsel with Hall-face and Stone-face +as to what were best to be done, and they sat on the dais in the Hall +to talk it over. + +Short was the time that had worn since that day in Shadowy Vale, for +it was but eight days since then; yet so many things had befallen in +that time, and, to speak shortly, the outlook for the Burgdalers had +changed so much, that the time seemed long to all the three, and +especially to Face-of-god. + +It was yet twenty days till the Great Folk-mote should beholden, and +to Hall-face the time seemed long enough to do somewhat, and he +deemed it were good to gather force and fall on the Dusky Men in +Rose-dale, since now they had gotten men who could lead them the +nighest way and by the safest passes, and who knew all the ways of +the foemen. But to Stone-face this rede seemed not so good; for they +would have to go and come back, and fight and conquer, in less time +than twenty days, or be belated of the Folk-mote, and meanwhile much +might happen. + +'For,' said Stone-face, 'we may deem the fighting-men of Rose-dale to +be little less than one thousand, and however we fall on them, even +if it be unawares at first, they shall fight stubbornly; so that we +may not send against them many less than they be, and that shall +strip Burgdale of its fighting-men, so that whatever befalls, we that +be left shall have to bide at home.' + +Now was Face-of-god of the same mind as Stone-face; and he said +moreover: 'When we go to Rose-dale we must abide there a while +unless we be overthrown. For if ye conquer it and come away at once, +presently shall the tidings come to the ears of the Dusky Men in +Silver-dale, and they shall join themselves to those of Rose-dale who +have fled before you, and between them they shall destroy the unhappy +people therein; for ye cannot take them all away with you: and that +shall they do all the more now, when they look to have new thralls in +Burgdale, both men and women. And this we may not suffer, but must +abide till we have met all our foemen and have overcome them, so that +the poor folk there shall be safe from them till they have learned +how to defend their dale. Now my rede is, that we send out the War- +arrow at once up and down the Dale, and to the Shepherds and +Woodlanders, and appoint a day for the Muster and Weapon-show of all +our Folk, and that day to be the day before the Spring Market, that +is to say, four days before the Great Folk-mote, and meantime that we +keep sure watch about the border of the wood, and now and again scour +the wood, so as to clear the Dale of their wandering bands.' + +'Yea,' said Hall-face; 'and I pray thee, brother, let me have an +hundred of men and thy Dallach, and let us go somewhat deep into the +wood towards Rose-dale, and see what we may come across; peradventure +it might be something better than hart or wild-swine.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'I see no harm therein, if Dallach goeth with thee +freely; for I will have no force put on him or any other of the +Runaways. Yet meseemeth it were not ill for thee to find the road to +Rose-dale; for I have it in my mind to send a company thither to give +those Rose-dale man-quellers somewhat to do at home when we fall upon +Silver-dale. Therefore go find Dallach, and get thy men together at +once; for the sooner thou art gone on thy way the better. But this I +bid thee, go no further than three days out, that ye may be back home +betimes.' + +At this word Hall-face's eyes gleamed with joy, and he went out from +the Hall straightway and sought Dallach, and found him at the Gate. +Iron-face had given him a new sword, a good one, and had bidden him +call it Thicket-clearer, and he would not leave it any moment of the +day or night, but would lay it under his pillow at night as a child +does with a new toy; and now he was leaning against a buttress and +drawing the said sword half out of the scabbard and poring over its +blade, which was indeed fair enough, being wrought with dark grey +waving lines like the eddies of the Weltering Water. + +So Hall-face greeted him, and smiled and said: + +'Guest, if thou wilt, thou may'st take that new blade of my father's +work which thou lovest so, a journey which shall rejoice it.' + +'Yea,' said Dallach, 'I suppose that thou wouldest fare on thy +brother's footsteps, and deemest that I am the man to lead thee on +the road, and even farther than he went; and though it might be +thought by some that I have seen enough of Rose-dale and the parts +thereabout for one while, yet will I go with thee; for now am I a man +again, body and soul.' + +And therewith he drew Thicket-clearer right out of his sheath and +waved him in the air. And Hall-face was glad of him and said he was +well apaid of his help. So they went away together to gather men, +and on the morrow Hall-face departed and went into the Wild-wood with +Dallach and an hundred and two score men. + +But as for Face-of-god, he fared up and down the Dale following the +War-arrow, and went into all houses, and talked with the folk, both +young and old, men and women, and told them closely all that had +betid and all that was like to betide; and he was well pleased with +that which he saw and heard; for all took his words well, and were +nought afeard or dismayed by the tidings; and he saw that they would +not hang aback. Meantime the days wore, and Hall-face came not back +till the seventh day, and he brought with him twelve more Runaways, +of whom five were women. But he had lost four men, and had with him +Dallach and five others of the Dalesmen borne upon litters sore hurt; +and this was his story: + +They got to the Burg of the Runaways on the forenoon of the third +day, and thereby came on five carles of the Runaways--men who had +missed meeting Dallach that other day, but knew what had been done; +for one of them had been sick and could not come with him, and he had +told the others: so now they were hanging about the Burg of the +Runaways hoping somewhat that he might come again; and they met the +Burgdalers full of joy, and brought them trouts that they had caught +in the river. + +As for the other runaways, namely, five women and two more carles-- +they had gotten them close to the entrance into Silver-dale, where by +night and cloud they came on a campment of the Dusky Men, who were +leading home these seven poor wretches, runaways whom they had +caught, that they might slay them most evilly in Rose-stead. So +Hall-face fell on the Dusky Men, and delivered their captives, but +slew not all the foe, and they that fled brought pursuers on them who +came up with them the next day, so near was Rose-dale, though they +made all diligence homeward. The Burgdalers must needs turn and +fight with those pursuers, and at last they drave them aback so that +they might go on their ways home. They let not the grass grow +beneath their feet thereafter, till they were assured by meeting a +band of the Woodlanders, who had gone forth to help them, and with +whom they rested a little. But neither so were they quite done with +the foemen, who came upon them next day a very many: these however +they and the Woodlanders, who were all fresh and unwounded and very +valiant, speedily put to the worse; and so they came on to Burgstead, +leaving those of them who were sorest hurt to be tended by the +Woodlanders at Carlstead, who, as might be looked for, deal with them +very lovingly. + +It was in the first fight that they suffered that loss of slain and +wounded; and therein the newly delivered thralls fought valiantly +against their masters: as for Dallach, it was no marvel, said Hall- +face, that he was hurt; but rather a marvel that he was not slain, so +little he recked of point and edge, if he might but slay the foemen. + +Such was Hall-face's-tale; and Face-of-god deemed that he had done +unwisely to let him go that journey; for the slaying of a few Dusky +Men was but a light gain to set against the loss of so many +Burgdalers; yet was he glad of the deliverance of those Runaways, and +deemed it a gain indeed. But henceforth would he hold all still till +he should have tidings of Folk-might; so nought was done thereafter +save the warding of the Dale, from the country of the Shepherds to +the Waste above the Eastern passes. + +But Face-of-god himself went up amongst the Shepherds, and abode with +a goodman hight Hound-under-Greenbury, who gathered to him the folk +from the country-side, and they went up on to Greenbury, and sat on +the green grass while he spoke with them and told them, as he had +told the others, what had been done and what should be done. And +they heard him gladly, and he deemed that there would be no blenching +in them, for they were all in one tale to live and die with their +friends of Burgdale, and they said that they would have no other word +save that to bear to the Great Folk-mote. + +So he went away well-pleased, and he fared on thence to the +Woodlanders, and guested at the house of a valiant man hight +Wargrove, who on the morrow morn called the folk together to a green +lawn of the Wild-wood, so that there was scarce a soul of them that +was not there. Then he laid the whole matter before them; and if the +Dalesmen had been merry and ready, and the Shepherds stout-hearted +and friendly, yet were the Wood-landers more eager still, so that +every hour seemed long to them till they stood in their war-gear; and +they told him that now at last was the hour drawing nigh which they +had dreamed of, but had scarce dared to hope for, when the lost way +should be found, and the crooked made straight, and that which had +been broken should be mended; that their meat and drink, and sleeping +and waking, and all that they did were now become to them but the +means of living till the day was come whereon the two remnants of the +children of the Wolf should meet and become one Folk to live or die +together. + +Then went Face-of-god back to Burgstead again, and as he stood anigh +the Thing-stead once more, and looked down on the Dale as he had +beheld it last autumn, he bethought him that with all that had been +done and all that had been promised, the earth was clearing of her +trouble, and that now there was nought betwixt him and the happy days +of life which the Dale should give to the dwellers therein, save the +gathering hosts of the battle-field and the day when the last word +should be spoken and the first stroke smitten. So he went down on to +the Portway well content. + +Thereafter till the day of the Weapon-show there is nought to tell +of, save that Dallach and the other wounded men began to grow whole +again; and all men sat at home, or went on the woodland ward, +expecting great tidings after the holding of the Folk-mote. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. OF THE WEAPON-SHOW OF THE MEN OF BURGDALE AND THEIR +NEIGHBOURS + + + +Now on the day appointed for the Weapon-show came the Folk flock-meal +to the great and wide meadow that was cleft by Wildlake as it ran to +join the Weltering Water. Early in the morning, even before sunrise, +had the wains full of women and children begun to come thither. Also +there came little horses and asses from the Shepherd country with one +or two or three damsels or children sitting on each, and by wain-side +or by beast strode the men of the house, merry and fair in their war- +gear. The Woodlanders, moreover, man and woman, elder and swain and +young damsel, streamed out of the wood from Carlstead, eager to make +the day begin before the sunrise, and end before his setting. + +Then all men fell to pitching of tents and tilting over of wains; for +the April sun was hot in the Dale, and when he arose the meads were +gay with more than the spring flowers; for the tents and the tilts +were stained and broidered with many colours, and there was none who +had not furbished up his war-gear so that all shone and glittered. +And many wore gay surcoats over their armour, and the women were clad +in all their bravery, and the Houses mostly of a suit; for one bore +blue and another corn-colour, and another green, and another brazil, +and so forth, and all gleaming and glowing with broidery of gold and +bright hues. But the women of the Shepherds were all clad in white, +embroidered with green boughs and red blossoms, and the Woodland +women wore dark red kirtles. Moreover, the women had set garlands of +flowers on their heads and the helms of the men, and for the most +part they were slim of body and tall and light-limbed, and as dainty +to look upon as the willow-boughs that waved on the brook-side. + +Thither had the goodmen who were guesting the Runaways brought their +guests, even now much bettered by their new soft days; and much the +poor folk marvelled at all this joyance, and they scarce knew where +they were; but to some it brought back to their minds days of joyance +before the thralldom and all that they had lost, so that their hearts +were heavy a while, till they saw the warriors of the kindreds +streaming into the mead and bethought them why they carried steel. + +Now by then the sun was fully up there was a great throng on the +Portway, and this was the folk of the Burg on their way to the +Weapon-mead. The men-at-arms were in the midst of the throng, and at +the head of them was the War-leader, with the banner of the Face +before him, wherein was done the image of the God with the ray-ringed +head. But at the rearward of the warriors went the Alderman and the +Burg-wardens, before whom was borne the banner of the Burg pictured +with the Gate and its Towers; but in the midst betwixt those two was +the banner of the Steer, a white beast on a green field. + +So when the Dale-wardens who were down in the meadow heard the music +and beheld who were coming, they bade the companies of the Dale and +the Shepherds and the Woodlanders who were down there to pitch their +banners in a half circle about the ingle of the meadow which was made +by the streams of Wildlake and the Weltering Water, and gather to +them to be ordered there under their leaders of scores and half- +hundreds and hundreds; and even so they did. But the banners of the +Dale without the Burg were the Bridge, and the Bull, and the Vine, +and the Sickle. And the Shepherds had three banners, to wit +Greenbury, and the Fleece, and the Thorn. + +As for the Woodlanders, they said that they were abiding their great +banner, but it should come in good time; 'and meantime,' said they, +'here are the war-tokens that we shall fight under; for they are good +enough banners for us poor men, the remnant of the valiant of time +past.' Therewith they showed two great spears, and athwart the one +was tied an arrow, its point dipped in blood, its feathers singed +with fire; and they said, 'This is the banner of the War-shaft.' + +On the other spear there was nought; but the head thereof was great +and long, and they had so burnished the steel that the sun smote out +a ray of light from it, so that it might be seen from afar. And they +said: 'This is the Banner of the Spear! Down yonder where the +ravens are gathering ye shall see a banner flying over us. There +shall fall many a mother's son.' + +Smiled the Dale-wardens, and said that these were good banners to +fight under; and those that stood nearby shouted for the valiancy of +the Woodland Carles. + +Now the Dale-wardens went to the entrance from the Portway to the +meadow, and there met the Men of the Burg, and two of them went one +on either side of the War-leader to show him to his seat, and the +others abode till the Alderman and Burg-wardens came up, and then +joined themselves to them, and the horns blew up both in the meadow +and on the road, and the new-comers went their ways to their +appointed places amidst the shouts of the Dalesmen; and the women and +children and old men from the Burg followed after, till all the mead +was covered with bright raiment and glittering gear, save within the +ring of men at the further end. + +So came the War-leader to his seat of green turf raised in the ingle +aforesaid; and he stood beside it till the Alderman and Wardens had +taken their places on a seat behind him raised higher than his; below +him on the step of his seat sat the Scrivener with his pen and ink- +horn and scroll of parchment, and men had brought him a smooth shield +whereon to write. + +On the left side of Face-of-god stood the men of the Face all +glittering in their arms, and amongst them were Wolf-stone and his +two fellows, but Dallach was not yet whole of his hurts. On his +right were the folk of the House of the Steer: the leader of that +House was an old white-bearded man, grandfather of the Bride, for her +father was dead; and who but the Bride herself stood beside him in +her glorious war-gear, looking as if she were new come from the City +of the Gods, thought most men; but those who beheld her closely +deemed that she looked heavy-eyed and haggard, as if she were aweary. +Nevertheless, wheresoever she passed, and whosoever looked on her +(and all men looked on her), there arose a murmur of praise and love; +and the women, and especially the young ones, said how fair her deed +was, and how meet she was for it; and some of them were for doing on +war-gear and faring to battle with the carles; and of these some were +sober and solemn, as was well seen afterwards, and some spake +lightly: some also fell to boasting of how they could run and climb +and swim and shoot in the bow, and fell to baring of their arms to +show how strong they were: and indeed they were no weaklings, though +their arms were fair. + +There then stood the ring of men, each company under its banner; and +beyond them stood the women and children and men unmeet for battle; +and beyond them again the tilted wains and the tents. + +Now Face-of-god sat him down on the turf-seat with his bright helm on +his head and his naked sword across his knees, while the horns blew +up loudly, and when they had done, the elder of the Dale-wardens +cried out for silence. Then again arose Face-of-god and said: + +'Men of the Dale, and ye friends of the Shepherds, and ye, O valiant +Woodlanders; we are not assembled here to take counsel, for in three +days' time shall the Great Folk-mote be holden, whereat shall be +counsel enough. But since I have been appointed your Chief and War- +leader, till such time as the Folk-mote shall either yeasay or naysay +my leadership, I have sent for you that we may look each other in the +face and number our host and behold our weapons, and see if we be +meet for battle and for the dealing with a great host of foemen. For +now no longer can it be said that we are going to war, but rather +that war is on our borders, and we are blended with it; as many have +learned to their cost; for some have been slain and some sorely hurt. +Therefore I bid you now, all ye that are weaponed, wend past us that +the tale of you may be taken. But first let every hundred-leader and +half-hundred-leader and score-leader make sure that he hath his tale +aright, and give his word to the captain of his banner that he in +turn may give it out to the Scrivener with his name and the House and +Company that he leadeth.' + +So he spake and sat him adown; and the horns blew again in token that +the companies should go past; and the first that came was Hall-ward +of the House of the Steer, and the first of those that went after him +was the Bride, going as if she were his son. + +So he cried out his name, and the name of his House, and said, 'An +hundred and a half,' and passed forth, his men following him in most +goodly array. Each man was girt with a good sword and bore a long +heavy spear over his shoulder, save a score who bare bows; and no man +lacked a helm, a shield, and a coat of fence. + +Then came a goodly man of thirty winters, and stayed before the +Scrivener and cried out: + +'Write down the House of the Bridge of the Upper Dale at one hundred, +and War-well their leader.' + +And he strode on, and his men followed clad and weaponed like those +of the Steer, save that some had axes hanging to their girdles +instead of swords; and most bore casting-spears instead of the long +spears, and half a score were bowmen. + +Then came Fox of Upton leading the men of the Bull of Middale, an +hundred and a half lacking two; very great and tall were his men, and +they also bore long spears, and one score and two were bowmen. + +Then Fork-beard of Lea, a man well on in years, led on the men of the +Vine, an hundred and a half and five men thereto; two score of them +bare bow in hand and were girt with sword; the rest bore their swords +naked in their right hands, and their shields (which were but small +bucklers) hanging at their backs, and in the left hand each bore two +casting-spears. With these went two doughty women-at-arms among the +bowmen, tall and well-knit, already growing brown with the spring +sun, for their work lay among the stocks of the vines on the +southward-looking bents. + +Next came a tall young man, yellow-haired, with a thin red beard, and +gave himself out for Red-beard of the Knolls; he bore his father's +name, as the custom of their house was, but the old man, who had long +been head man of the House of the Sickle, was late dead in his bed, +and the young man had not seen twenty winters. He bade the Scrivener +write the tale of the Men of the Sickle at an hundred and a half, and +his folk fared past the War-leader joyously, being one half of them +bowmen; and fell shooters they were; the other half were girt with +swords, and bore withal long ashen staves armed with great blades +curved inwards, which weapon they called heft-sax. + +All these bands, as the name and the tale of them was declared were +greeted with loud shouts from their fellows and the bystanders; but +now arose a greater shout still, as Stone-face, clad in goodly +glittering array, came forth and said: + +'I am Stone-face of the House of the Face, and I bring with me two +hundreds of men with their best war-gear and weapons: write it down, +Scrivener!' + +And he strode on like a young man after those who had gone past, and +after him came the tall Hall-face and his men, a gallant sight to +see: two score bowmen girt with swords, and the others with naked +swords waving aloft, and each bearing two casting-spears in his left +hand. + +Then came a man of middle age, broad-shouldered, yellow-haired, blue- +eyed, of wide and ruddy countenance, and after him a goodly company; +and again great was the shout that went up to the heavens; for he +said: + +'Scrivener, write down that Hound-under-Greenbury, from amongst the +dwellers in the hills where the sheep feed, leadeth the men who go +under the banner of Greenbury, to the tale of an hundred and four +score.' + +Therewith he passed on, and his men followed, stout, stark, and +merry-faced, girt with swords, and bearing over their shoulders long- +staved axes, and spears not so long as those which the Dalesmen bore; +and they had but a half score of arrow-shot with them. + +Next came a young man, blue-eyed also, with hair the colour of flax +on the distaff, broad-faced and short-nosed, low of stature, but very +strong-built, who cried out in a loud, cheerful voice: + +'I am Strongitharm of the Shepherds, and these valiant men are of the +Fleece and the Thorn blended together, for so they would have it; and +their tale is one hundred and two score and ten.' + +Then the men of those kindreds went past merry and shouting, and they +were clad and weaponed like to them of Greenbury, but had with them a +score of bowmen. And all these Shepherd-folk wore over their +hauberks white woollen surcoats broidered with green and red. + +Now again uprose the cry, and there stood before the War-leader a +very tall man of fifty winters, dark-faced and grey-eyed, and he +spake slowly and somewhat softly, and said: + +'War-leader, this is Red-wolf of the Woodlanders leading the men who +go under the sign of the War-shaft, to the number of an hundred and +two.' + +Then he passed on, and his men after him, tall, lean, and silent +amidst the shouting. All these men bare bows, for they were keen +hunters; each had at his girdle a little axe and a wood-knife, and +some had long swords withal. They wore, everyone of the carles, +short green surcoats over their coats of fence; but amongst them were +three women who bore like weapons to the men, but were clad in red +kirtles under their hauberks, which were of good ring-mail gleaming +over them from throat to knee. + +Last came another tall man, but young, of twenty-five winters, and +spake: + +'Scrivener, I am Bears-bane of the Woodlanders, and these that come +after me wend under the sign of the Spear, and they are of the tale +of one hundred and seven.' + +And he passed by at once, and his men followed him, clad and weaponed +no otherwise than they of the War-shaft, and with them were two +women. + +Now went all those companies back to their banners, and stood there; +and there arose among the bystanders much talk concerning the Weapon- +show, and who were the best arrayed of the Houses. And of the old +men, some spake of past weapon-shows which they had seen in their +youth, and they set them beside this one, and praised and blamed. So +it went on a little while till the horns blew again, and once more +there was silence. Then arose Face-of-god and said: + +'Men of Burgdale, and ye Shepherd-folk, and ye of the Woodland, now +shall ye wot how many weaponed men we may bring together for this +war. Scrivener, arise and give forth the tale of the companies, as +they have been told unto you.' + +Then the Scrivener stood up on the turf-bench beside Face-of-god, and +spake in a loud voice, reading from his scroll: + +'Of the Men of Burgdale there have passed by me nine hundreds and +six; of the Shepherds three hundreds and eight and ten; and of the +Woodlanders two hundreds and nine; so that all told our men are +fourteen hundreds and thirty and three.' + +Now in those days men reckoned by long hundreds, so that the whole +tale of the host was one thousand, five hundred, and four score and +one, telling the tale in short hundreds. + +When the tale had been given forth and heard, men shouted again, and +they rejoiced that they were so many. For it exceeded the reckoning +which the Alderman had given out at the Gate-thing. But Face-of-god +said: + +'Neighbours, we have held our Weapon-show; but now hold you ready, +each man, for the Hosting toward very battle; for belike within seven +days shall the leaders of hundreds and twenties summon you to be +ready in arms to take whatso fortune may befall. Now is sundered the +Weapon-show. Be ye as merry to-day as your hearts bid you to be.' + +Therewith he came down from his seat with the Alderman and the +Wardens, and they mingled with the good folk of the Dale and the +Shepherds and the Woodlanders, and merry was their converse there. +It yet lacked an hour of noon; so presently they fell to and feasted +in the green meadow, drinking from wain to wain and from tent to +tent; and thereafter they played and sported in the meads, shooting +at the butts and wrestling, and trying other masteries. Then they +fell to dancing one and all, and so at last to supper on the green +grass in great merriment. Nor might you have known from the +demeanour of any that any threat of evil overhung the Dale. Nay, so +glad were they, and so friendly, that you might rather have deemed +that this was the land whereof tales tell, wherein people die not, +but live for ever, without growing any older than when they first +come thither, unless they be born into the land itself, and then they +grow into fair manhood, and so abide. In sooth, both the land and +the folk were fair enough to be that land and the folk thereof. + +But a little after sunset they sundered, and some fared home; but +many of them abode in the tents and tilted wains, because the morrow +was the first day of the Spring Market: and already were some of the +Westland chapmen come; yea, two of them were with the bystanders in +the meadow; and more were looked for ere the night was far spent. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. THE MEN OF SHADOWY VALE COME TO THE SPRING MARKET AT +BURGSTEAD + + + +On the morrow betimes in the morning the Westland chapmen, who were +now all come, went out from the House of the Face, where they were +ever wont to be lodged, and set up their booths adown the street +betwixt gate and bridge. Gay was the show; for the booths were +tilted over with painted cloths, and the merchants themselves were +clad in long gowns of fine cloth; scarlet, and blue, and white, and +green, and black, with broidered welts of gold and silver; and their +knaves were gaily attired in short coats of divers hues, with silver +rings about their arms, and short swords girt to their sides. People +began to gather about these chapmen at once when they fell to opening +their bales and their packs, and unloading their wains. There had +they iron, both in pigs and forged scrap and nails; steel they had, +and silver, both in ingots and vessel; pearls from over sea; cinnabar +and other colours for staining, such as were not in the mountains: +madder from the marshes, and purple of the sea, and scarlet grain +from the holm-oaks by its edge, and woad from the deep clayey fields +of the plain; silken thread also from the outer ocean, and rare webs +of silk, and jars of olive oil, and fine pottery, and scented woods, +and sugar of the cane. But gold they had none with them, for that +they took there; and for weapons, save a few silver-gilt toys, they +had no market. + +So presently they fell to chaffer; for the carles brought them little +bags of the river-borne gold, so that the weights and scales were at +work; others had with them scrolls and tallies to tell the number of +the beasts which they had to sell, and the chapmen gave them wares +therefor without beholding the beasts; for they wotted that the +Dalesmen lied not in chaffer. While the day was yet young withal +came the Dalesmen from the mid and nether Dale with their wares and +set up their booths; and they had with them flasks and kegs of the +wine which they had to sell; and bales of the good winter-woven +cloth, some grey, some dyed, and pieces of fine linen; and blades of +swords, and knives, and axes of such fashion as the Westland men +used; and golden cups and chains, and fair rings set with mountain- +blue stones, and copper bowls, and vessels gilt and parcel-gilt, and +mountain-blue for staining. There were men of the Shepherds also +with such fleeces as they could spare from the daily chaffer with the +neighbours. And of the Woodlanders were four carles and a woman with +peltries and dressed deer-skins, and a few pieces of well-carven +wood-work for bedsteads and chairs and such like. + +Soon was the Burg thronged with folk in all its open places, and all +were eager and merry, and it could not have been told from their +demeanour and countenance that the shadow of a grievous trouble hung +over them. True it was that every man of the Dale and the neighbours +was girt with his sword, or bore spear or axe or other weapon in his +hand, and that most had their bucklers at their backs and their helms +on their heads; but this was ever their custom at all meetings of +men, not because they dreaded war or were fain of strife, but in +token that they were free men, from whom none should take the weapons +without battle. + +Such were the folk of the land: as for the chapmen, they were well- +spoken and courteous, and blithe with the folk, as they well might +be, for they had good pennyworths of them; yet they dealt with them +without using measureless lying, as behoved folk dealing with simple +and proud people; and many was the tale they told of the tidings of +the Cities and the Plain. + +There amongst the throng was the Bride in her maiden's attire, but +girt with the sword, going from booth to booth with her guests of the +Runaways, and doing those poor people what pleasure she might, and +giving them gifts from the goods there, such as they set their hearts +on. And the more part of the Runaways were about among the people of +the Fair; but Dallach, being still weak, sat on a bench by the door +of the House of the Face looking on well-pleased at all the stir of +folk. + +Hall-face was gone on the woodland ward; while Face-of-god went among +the folk in his most glorious attire; but he soon betook him to the +place of meeting without the Gate, where Stone-face and some of the +elders were sitting along with the Alderman, beside whom sat the head +man of the merchants, clad in a gown of fine scarlet embroidered with +the best work of the Dale, with a golden chaplet on his head, and a +good sword, golden-hilted, by his side, all which the Alderman had +given to it him that morning. These chiefs were talking together +concerning the tidings of the Plain, and many a tale the guest told +to the Dalesmen, some true, some false. For there had been battles +down there, and the fall of kings, and destruction of people, as oft +befalleth in the guileful Cities. He told them also, in answer to +their story of the Dusky Men, of how men even such-like, but riding +on horses, or drawn in wains, an host not to be numbered, had +erewhile overthrown the hosts of the Cities of the Plain, and had +wrought evils scarce to be told of; and how they had piled up the +skulls of slaughtered folk into great hills beside the city-gates, so +that the sun might no longer shine into the streets; and how because +of the death and the rapine, grass had grown in the kings' chambers, +and the wolves had chased deer in the Temples of the Gods. + +'But,' quoth he, 'I know you, bold tillers of the soil, valiant +scourers of the Wild-wood, that the worst that can befall you will be +to die under shield, and that ye shall suffer no torment of the +thrall. May the undying Gods bless the threshold of this Gate, and +oft may I come hither to taste of your kindness! May your race, the +uncorrupt, increase and multiply, till your valiant men and clean +maidens make the bitter sweet and purify the earth!' + +He spake smooth-tongued and smiling, handling the while the folds of +his fine scarlet gown, and belike he meant a full half of what he +said; for he was a man very eloquent of speech, and had spoken with +kings, uncowed and pleased with his speaking; and for that cause and +his riches had he been made chief of the chapmen. As he spake the +heart of Face-of-god swelled within him, and his cheek flushed; but +Iron-face sat up straight and proud, and a light smile played about +his face, as he said gravely: + +'Friend of the Westland, I thank thee for the blessing and the kind +word. Such as we are, we are; nor do I deem that the very Gods shall +change us. And if they will be our friends, it is well; for we +desire nought of them save their friendship; and if they will be our +foes, that also shall we bear; nor will we curse them for doing that +which their lives bid them to do. What sayest thou, Face-of-god, my +son?' + +'Yea, father,' said Face-of-god, 'I say that the very Gods, though +they slay me, cannot unmake my life that has been. If they do deeds, +yet shall we also do.' + +The Outlander smiled as they spake, and bowed his head to Iron-face +and Face-of-god, and wondered at their pride of heart, marvelling +what they would say to the great men of the Cities if they should +meet them. + +But as they sat a-talking, there came two men running to them from +the Portway, their weapons all clattering upon them, and they heard +withal the sound of a horn winded not far off very loud and clear; +and the Chapman's cheek paled: for in sooth he doubted that war was +at hand, after all he had heard of the Dalesmen's dealings with the +Dusky Men. And all battle was loathsome to him, nor for all the gain +of his chaffer had he come into the Dale, had he known that war was +looked for. + +But the chiefs of the Dalesmen stirred not, nor changed countenance; +and some of the goodmen who were in the street nigh the Gate came +forth to see what was toward; for they also had heard the voice of +the horn. + +Then one of those messengers came up breathless, and stood before the +chiefs, and said: + +'New tidings, Alderman; here be weaponed strangers come into the +Dale.' + +The Alderman smiled on him and said: 'Yea, son, and are they a great +host of men?' + +'Nay,' said the man, 'not above a score as I deem, and there is a +woman with them.' + +'Then shall we abide them here,' said the Alderman, 'and thou +mightest have saved thy breath, and suffered them to bring tidings of +themselves; since they may scarce bring us war. For no man desireth +certain and present death; and that is all that such a band may win +at our hands in battle to-day; and all who come in peace are welcome +to us. What like are they to behold?' + +Said the man: 'They are tall men gloriously attired, so that they +seem like kinsmen of the Gods; and they bear flowering boughs in +their hands.' + +The Alderman laughed, and said: 'If they be Gods they are welcome +indeed; and they shall grow the wiser for their coming; for they +shall learn how guest-fain the Burgdale men may be. But if, as I +deem, they be like unto us, and but the children of the Gods, then +are they as welcome, and it may be more so, and our greeting to them +shall be as their greeting to us would be.' + +Even as he spake the horn was winded nearer yet, and more loudly, and +folk came pouring out of the Gate to learn the tidings. Presently +the strangers came from off the Portway into the space before the +Gate; and their leader was a tall and goodly man of some thirty +winters, in glorious array, helm on head and sword by side, his +surcoat green and flowery like the spring meads. In his right hand +he held a branch of the blossomed black-thorn (for some was yet in +blossom), and his left had hold of the hand of an exceeding fair +woman who went beside him: behind him was a score of weaponed men in +goodly attire, some bearing bows, some long spears, but each bearing +a flowering bough in hand. + +The tall man stopped in the midst of the space, and the Alderman and +they with him stirred not; though, as for Face-of-god, it was to him +as if summer had come suddenly into the midst of winter, and for the +very sweetness of delight his face grew pale. + +Then the new-comer drew nigh to the Alderman and said: + +'Hail to the Gate and the men of the Gate! Hail to the kindred of +the children of the Gods!' + +But the Alderman stood up and spake: 'And hail to thee, tall man! +Fair greeting to thee and thy company! Wilt thou name thyself with +thine own name, or shall I call thee nought save Guest? Welcome art +thou, by whatsoever name thou wilt be called. Here may'st thou and +thy folk abide as long as ye will.' + +Said the new-comer: 'Thanks have thou for thy greeting and for thy +bidding! And that bidding shall we take, whatsoever may come of it; +for we are minded to abide with thee for a while. But know thou, O +Alderman of the Dalesmen, that I am not sackless toward thee and +thine. My name is Folk-might of the Children of the Wolf, and this +woman is the Sun-beam, my sister, and these behind me are of my +kindred, and are well beloved and trusty. We are no evil men or +wrong-doers; yet have we been driven into sore straits, wherein men +must needs at whiles do deeds that make their friends few and their +foes many. So it may be that I am thy foeman. Yet, if thou doubtest +of me that I shall be a baneful guest, thou shalt have our weapons of +us, and then mayest thou do thy will upon us without dread; and here +first of all is my sword!' + +Therewith he cast down the flowering branch he was bearing, and +pulled his sword from out his sheath, and took it by the point, and +held out the hilt to Iron-face. + +But the Alderman smiled kindly on him and said: + +'The blade is a good one, and I say it who know the craft of sword- +forging; but I need it not, for thou seest I have a sword by my side. +Keep your weapons, one and all; for ye have come amongst many and +those no weaklings: and if so be that thy guilt against us is so +great that we must needs fall on you, ye will need all your war-gear. +But hereof is no need to speak till the time of the Folk-mote, which +will be holden in three days' wearing; so let us forbear this matter +till then; for I deem we shall have enough to say of other matters. +Now, Folk-might, sit down beside me, and thou also, Sun-beam, fairest +of women.' + +Therewith he looked into her face and reddened, and said: + +'Yet belike thou hast a word of greeting for my son, Face-of-god, +unless it be so that ye have not seen him before?' + +Then Face-of-god came forward, and took Folk-might by the hand and +kissed him; and he stood before the Sun-beam and took her hand, and +the world waxed a wonder to him as he kissed her cheeks; and in no +wise did she change countenance, save that her eyes softened, and she +gazed at him full kindly from the happiness of her soul. + +Then Face-of-god said: 'Welcome, Guests, who erewhile guested me so +well: now beginneth the day of your well-doing to the men of +Burgdale; therefore will we do to you as well as we may.' + +Then Folk-might and the Sun-beam sat them down with the chieftains, +one on either side of the Alderman, but Face-of-god passed forth to +the others, and greeted them one by one: of them was Wood-father and +his three sons, and Bow-may; and they rejoiced exceedingly to see +him, and Bow-may said: + +'Now it gladdens my heart to look upon thee alive and thriving, and +to remember that day last winter when I met thee on the snow, and +turned thee back from the perilous path to thy pleasure, which the +Dusky Men were besetting, of whom thou knewest nought. Yea, it was +merry that tide; but this is better. Nay, friend,' she said, 'it +availeth thee nought to strive to look out of the back of thine head: +let it be enough to thee that she is there. Thou art now become a +great chieftain, and she is no less; and this is a meeting of +chieftains, and the folk are looking on and expecting demeanour of +them as of the Gods; and she is not to be dealt with as if she were +the daughter of some little goodman with whom one hath made tryst in +the meadows. There! hearken to me for a while; at least till I tell +thee that thou seemest to me to hold thine head higher than when last +I saw thee; though that is no long time either. Hast thou been in +battle again since that day?' + +'Nay,' he said, 'I have stricken no stroke since I slew two felons +within the same hour that we parted. And thou, sister, what hast +thou done?' + +She said: 'The grey goose hath been on the wing thrice since that, +bearing on it the bane of evil things.' + +Then said Wood-wise: 'Kinswoman, tell him of that battle, since thou +art deft with thy tongue.' + +She said: 'Weary on battles! it is nought save this: twelve days +agone needs must every fighting-man of the Wolf, carle or of queen, +wend away from Shadowy Vale, while those unmeet for battle we hid +away in the caves at the nether end of the Dale: but Sun-beam would +not endure that night, and fared with us, though she handled no +weapon. All this we had to do because we had learned that a great +company of the Dusky Men were over-nigh to our Dale, and needs must +we fall upon them, lest they should learn too much, and spread the +story. Well, so wise was Folk-might that we came on them unawares by +night and cloud at the edge of the Pine-wood, and but one of our men +was slain, and of them not one escaped; and when the fight was over +we counted four score and ten of their arm-rings.' + +He said: 'Did that or aught else come of our meeting with them that +morning?' + +'Nay,' she said, 'nought came of it: those we slew were but a +straying band. Nay, the four score and ten slain in the Pine-wood +knew not of Shadowy Vale belike, and had no intent for it: they were +but scouring the wood seeking their warriors that had gone out from +Silver-dale and came not aback.' + +'Thou art wise in war, Bow-may,' said Face-of-god, and he smiled +withal. + +Bow-may reddened and said: 'Friend Gold-mane, dost thou perchance +deem that there is aught ill in my warring? And the Sun-beam, she +naysayeth the bearing of weapons; though I deem that she hath little +fear of them when they come her way.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Nay, I deem no ill of it, but much good. For I +suppose that thou hast learned overmuch of the wont of the Dusky Men, +and hast seen their thralls?' + +She knitted her brows, and all the merriment went out of her face at +that word, and she answered: 'Yea, thou hast it; for I have both +seen their thralls and been in the Dale of thralldom; and how then +can I do less than I do? But for thee, I perceive that thou hast +been nigh unto our foes and hast fallen in with their thralls; and +that is well; for whatso tales we had told thee thereof it is like +thou wouldst not have trowed in, as now thou must do, since thou +thyself hast seen these poor folk. But now I will tell thee, Gold- +mane, that my soul is sick of these comings and goings for the +slaughter of a few wretches; and I long for the Great Day of Battle, +when it will be seen whether we shall live or die; and though I laugh +and jest, yet doth the wearing of the days wear me.' + +He looked kindly on her and said: 'I am War-leader of this Folk, and +trust me that the waiting-tide shall not be long; wherefore now, +sister, be merry to-day, for that is but meet and right; and cast +aside thy care, for presently shalt thou behold many new friends. +But now meseemeth overlong have ye been standing before our Gate, and +it is time that ye should see the inside of our Burg and the inside +of our House.' + +Indeed by this time so many men had come out of the street that the +place before the Gate was all thronged, and from where he stood Face- +of-god could scarce see his father, or Folk-might and the Sun-beam +and the chieftains. + +So he took Wood-father by the hand, and close behind him came Wood- +wise and Bow-may, and he cried out for way that he might speak with +the Alderman, and men gave way to them, and he led those new-comers +close up to the gate-seats of the Elders, and as he clove the press +smiling and bright-eyed and happy, all gazed on him; but the Sun- +beam, who was sitting between Iron-face and the Westland Chapman, and +who heretofore had been agaze with eyes beholding little, past whose +ears the words went unheard, and whose mind wandered into thoughts of +things unfashioned yet, when she beheld him close to her again, then, +taken unawares, her eyes caressed him, and she turned as red as a +rose, as she felt all the sweetness of desire go forth from her to +meet him. So that, he perceiving it, his voice was the clearer and +sweeter for the inward joy he felt, as he said: + +'Alderman, meseemeth it is now time that we bring our Guests into the +House of our Fathers; for since they are in warlike array, and we are +no longer living in peace, and I am now War-leader of the Dale, I +deem it but meet that I should have the guesting of them. Moreover, +when we are come into our House, I will bid thee look into thy +treasury, that thou may'st find therein somewhat which it may +pleasure us to give to our Guests.' + +Said Iron-face: 'Thou sayest well, son, and since the day is now +worn past noon, and these folk are but just come from the Waste, +therefore such as we have of meat and drink abideth them. And surely +there is within our house a coffer which belongeth to thee and me; +and forsooth I know not why we keep the treasures hoarded therein, +save that it be for this cause: that if we were to give to our +friends that which we ourselves use and love, which would be of all +things pleasant to us, if we gave them such goods, they would be worn +and worsened by our use of them. For this reason, therefore, do we +keep fair things which we use not, so that we may give them to our +friends. + +'Now, Guests, both of the Waste and the Westland, since here is no +Gate-thing or meeting of the Dale-wardens, and we sit here but for +our pleasure, let us go take our pleasure within doors for a while, +if it seem good to you.' + +Therewith he arose, and the folk made way for him and his Guests; and +Folk-might went on the right hand of Iron-face, and beside him went +the Chapman, who looked on him with a half-smile, as though he knew +somewhat of him. But on the other side of Iron-face went the Sun- +beam, whose hand he held, and after these came Face-of-god, leading +in the rest of the New-comers, who yet held the flowery branches in +their hands. + +Now so much had Face-of-god told the Dalesmen, that they deemed they +all knew these men for their battle-fellows of whom they had heard +tell; and this the more as the men were so goodly and manly of +aspect, especially Folk-might, so that they seemed as if they were +nigh akin to the Gods. As for the Sun-beam, they knew not how to +praise her beauty enough, but they said that they had never known +before how fair the Gods might be. So they raised a great shout of +welcome as the men came through the Gate into the Burg, and all men +turned their backs on the booths, so eager were they to behold +closely these new friends. + +But as the Guests went from the Gate to the House of the Face, going +very slowly because of the press, there in the front of the throng +stood the Bride with the women of the Runaways, whom she had caused +to be clad very fairly; and she was fain to do them a pleasure by +bringing them to sight of these new-comers, of whom she had not heard +who they were, though she had heard the cry that strangers were at +hand. So there she stood smiling a little with the pleasure of +showing a fair sight to the poor people, as folk do with children. +But when she saw those twain going on each side of the Alderman she +knew them at once; and when the Sun-beam, who was on his left side, +passed so close to her that she could see the very smoothness and +dainty fashion of her skin, then was she astonied, and the world +seemed strange to her, and till they were gone by, and for a while +afterwards, she knew not where she was nor what she did, though it +seemed to her as if she still saw the face of that fair woman as in a +picture. + +But the Sun-beam had noted her at first, even amongst the fair women +of Burgstead, and she so steady and bright beside the wandering +timorous eyes and lowering faces of the thralls. But suddenly, as +eye met eye, she saw her face change; she saw her cheek whiten, her +eyes stare, and her lips quiver, and she knew at once who it was; for +she had not seen her before as Folk-might had. Then the Sun-beam +cast her eyes adown, lest her compassion might show in her face, and +be a fresh grief to her that had lost the wedding and the love; and +so she passed on. + +As for Folk-might, he had seen her at once amongst all that folk as +he came into the street, and in sooth he was looking for her; and +when he saw her face change, as the sight of the Sun-beam smote upon +her heart, his own face burned with shame and anger, and he looked +back at her as he went toward the House. But she saw him not, nor +noted him; and none deemed it strange that he looked long on the +Bride, the treasure of Burgstead. But for some while Folk-might was +few-spoken and sharp-spoken amongst the chieftains; for he was slow +to master his longing and his wrath. + +So when all the Guests had entered the door of the House of the Face, +the Alderman turned back, and, standing on the threshold of his +House, spake unto the throng: + +'Men of the Dale, and ye Outlanders who may be here, know that this +is a happy day; for hither have come to us Guests, men of the kindred +of the Gods, and they are even those of whom Face-of-god my son hath +told you. And they are friends of our friends and foes of our foes. +These men are now in my House, as is but right; but when they come +forth I look to you to cherish them in the best way ye know, and make +much of them, as of those who may help us and who may by us be +holpen.' + +Therewith he went in again and into the Hall, and bade show the New- +comers to the dais; and wine of the best, and meat such as was to +hand, was set before them. He bade men also get ready high feast as +great as might be against the evening; and they did his bidding +straightway. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. THE ALDERMAN GIVES GIFTS TO THEM OF SHADOWY VALE + + + +In the Hall of the Face Folk-might sat on the dais at the right hand +of the Alderman, and the Sun-beam on his left hand. But Iron-face +also had beheld the Bride how her face changed, and he knew the +cause, and was grieved and angry and ashamed thereof: also he +bethought him how this stranger was sitting in the very place where +the Bride used to sit, and of all the love, as of a very daughter, +that he had had for her; howbeit he constrained himself to talk +courteously and kindly both to Folk-might and + +the Sun-beam, as behoved the Chief of the House and the Alderman of +the Dale. Moreover, he was not a little moved by the goodliness and +wisdom of the Sun-beam and the manliness of Folk-might, who was the +most chieftain-like of men. + +But while they sat there Face-of-god went from man to man of the +Guests, and made much of each, but especially of Wood-father and his +sons and Bow-may, and they loved him, and praised him, and deemed him +the best of hall-mates. Nor might the Sun-beam altogether refrain +her from looking lovingly on him, and it could be seen of her that +she deemed he was doing well, and like a wise leader and chieftain. + +So wore away awhile, and men were fulfilled of meat and drink; so +then the Alderman arose and spake, and said: + +'Is it not so, Guests, that ye would now gladly behold our market, +and the goodly wares which the chapmen have brought us from the +Cities?' + +Then most men cried out: 'Yea, yea!' and Iron-face said: + +'Then shall ye go, nor be holden by me from your pleasure. And ye +kinsmen who are the most guest-fain and the wisest, go ye with our +friends, and make all things easy and happy for them. But first of +all, Guests, I were well pleased if ye would take some small matters +out of our abundance; for it were well that ye see them ere ye stand +before the chapmen's booths, lest ye chaffer with them for what ye +have already.' + +They all praised his bounty and thanked him for his goodwill: so he +arose to go to his treasury, and bade certain of his folk go along +with him to bear in the gifts. But ere he had taken three steps down +the hall, Face-of-god prevented him and said: + +'Kinsman, if thou hast anywhere a hauberk somewhat better than folk +are wont to bear, such as thine own hand fashioneth, and a sword of +the like stuff, I would have thee give them, the sword to my brother- +in-arms Wood-wise here, and the war-coat to my sister Bow-may, who +shooteth so well in the bow that none may shoot closer, and very few +as close; and her shaft it was that delivered me when my skull was +amongst the axes of the Dusky Men: else had I not been here.' + +Thereat Bow-may reddened and looked down, like a scholar who hath +been over-praised for his learning and diligence; but the Alderman +smiled on her and said: + +'I thank thee, son, that thou hast let me know what these our two +friends may be fain of: and as for this damsel-at-arms, it is a +little thing that thou askest for her, and we might have found her +something more worthy of her goodliness; yet forsooth, since we are +all bound for the place where shafts and staves shall be good cheap, +a greater treasure might be of less avail to her.' + +Thereat men laughed, and the Alderman went down the Hall with those +bearers of gifts, and was away for a space while they drank and made +merry: but presently back they came from the treasury bearing loads +of goodly things which were laid on one of the endlong boards. Then +began the gift-giving: and first he gave unto Folk-might six golden +cups marvellously fashioned, the work of four generations of wrights +in the Dale, and he himself had wrought the last two thereof. To +Sun-beam he gave a girdle of gold, fashioned with great mastery, +whereon were images of the Gods and the Fathers, and warriors, and +beasts of the field and fowls of the air; and as he girt it about her +loins, he said in a soft voice so that few heard: + +'Sun-beam, thou fair woman, time has been when thou wert to us as the +edge of the poisonous sword or the midnight torch of the murderer; +but now I know not how it will be, or if the grief which thou hast +given me will ever wear out or not. And now that I have beheld thee, +I have little to do to blame my son; for indeed when I look on thee I +cannot deem that there is any evil in thee. Yea, however it may be, +take thou this gift as the reward of thine exceeding beauty.' + +She looked on him with kind eyes, and said meekly: + +'Indeed, if I have hurt thee unwittingly, I grieve to have hurt so +good a man. Hereafter belike we may talk more of this, but now I +will but say, that whereas at first I needed but to win thy son's +goodwill, so that our Folk might come to life and thriving again, now +it is come to this, that he holdeth my heart in his hand and may do +what he will with it; therefore I pray thee withhold not thy love +either from him or from me.' + +He looked on her wondering, and said: 'Thou art such an one as might +make the old man young, and the boy grow into manhood suddenly; and +thy voice is as sweet as the voice of the song-birds singing in the +dawn of early summer soundeth to him who hath been sick unto death, +but who hath escaped it and is mending. And yet I fear thee.' + +Therewith he kissed her hand and turned unto the others, and he gave +unto Bow-may a hauberk of ring-mail of his own fashioning, a sure +defence and a wonderful work, and the collar thereof was done with +gold and gems. + +But he said to her: 'Fair damsel-at-arms, faithful is thy face, and +the fashion of thee is goodly: now art thou become one of the best +of our friends, and this is little enough to give thee; yet would we +fain ward thy body against the foeman; so grieve us not by gainsaying +us.' + +And Bow-may was exceeding glad, and scarce knew how to cease handling +that marvel of ring-mail. + +Then to Wood-wise Iron-face gave a most goodly sword, the blade all +marked with dark lines like the stream of an eddying river, the hilts +of steel and gold marvellously wrought; and all the work of a smith +who had dwelt in the house of his father's father, and was a great +warrior. + +Unto Wood-father he gave a very goodly helm parcel-gilded; and to his +sons and the other folk fair gifts of weapons and jewels and girdles +and cups and other good things; so that their hearts were full of +joy, and they all praised his open hand. + +Then some of the best and merriest of the kinsmen of the Face, and +Face-of-god with them, brought the Guests out into the street and +among the booths. There Face-of-god beheld the Bride again; and she +was standing by the booth of a chapman and dealing with him for a +piece of goodly silken cloth to be a gown for one of her guests, and +she was talking and smiling as she chaffered with him, as her wont +was; for she was ever very friendly of demeanour with all men. But +he noted that she was yet exceeding pale, and he was right sorry +thereof, for he loved her friendly; yet now had he no shame for all +that had befallen, when he bethought him of the Sun-beam and the love +she had for him. And also he had a deeming that the Bride would +better of her grief. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. THE CHIEFTAINS TAKE COUNSEL IN THE HALL OF THE FACE + + + +Then turned Face-of-god back into the Hall, and saw where Iron-face +sat at the dais, and with him Folk-might and Stone-face and the Elder +of the Dale-wardens, and Sun-beam withal; so he went soberly up to +the board, and sat himself down thereat beside Stone-face, over +against Folk-might and his father, beside whom sat the Sun-beam; and +Folk-might looked on him gravely, as a man powerful and trustworthy, +yet was his look somewhat sour. + +Then the Alderman said: 'My son, I said not to thee come back +presently, because I wotted that thou wouldst surely do so, knowing +that we have much to speak of. For, whatever these thy friends may +have done, or whatsoever thou hast done with them to grieve us, all +that must be set aside at this present time, since the matter in hand +is to save the Dale and its folk. What sayest thou hereon? Since, +young as thou mayst be, thou art our War-leader, and doubtless shalt +so be after the Folk-mote hath been holden.' + +Face-of-god answered not hastily: indeed, as he sat thinking for a +minute or two, the fair spring day seemed to darken about them or to +glare into the light of flames amidst the night-tide; and the joyous +clamour without doors seemed to grow hoarse and fearful as the sound +of wailing and shrieking. But he spake firmly and simply in a clear +voice, and said: + +'There can be no two words concerning what we have to aim at; these +Dusky Men we must slay everyone, though we be fewer than they be.' + +Folk-might smiled and nodded his head; but the others sat staring +down the hall or into the hangings. + +Then spake Folk-might: 'Thou wert a boy methought when I cast my +spear at thee last autumn, Face-of-god, but now hast thou grown into +a man. Now tell me, what deemest thou we must do to slay them all?' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Once again it is clear that we must fall upon +them at home in Rose-dale and Silver-dale.' + +Again Folk-might nodded: but Iron-face said: + +'Needeth this? May we not ward the Dale and send many bands into the +wood to fall upon them when we meet them? Yea, and so doing these +our guests have already slain many, as this valiant man hath told me +e'en now. Will ye not slay so many at last, that they shall learn to +fear us, and abide at home and leave us at peace?' + +But Face-of-god said: 'Meseemeth, father, that this is not thy rede, +and that thou sayest this but to try me: and perchance ye have been +talking about me when I was without in the street e'en now. Even if +it might be that we should thus cow these felons into abiding at home +and tormenting their own thralls at their ease, yet how then are our +friends of the Wolf holpen to their own again? And I shall tell thee +that I have promised to this man and this woman that I will give them +no less than a man's help in this matter. Moreover, I have spoken in +every house of the Dale, and to the Shepherds and the Woodlanders, +and there is no man amongst them but will follow me in the quarrel. +Furthermore, they have heard of the thralldom that is done on men no +great way from their own houses; yea, they have seen it; and they +remember the old saw, "Grief in thy neighbour's hall is grief in thy +garth," and sure it is, father, that whether thou or I gainsay them, +go they will to deliver the thralls of the Dusky Men, and will leave +us alone in the Dale.' + +'This is no less than sooth,' said the Dale-warden, 'never have men +gone forth more joyously to a merry-making than all men of us shall +wend to this war.' + +'But,' said Face-of-god, 'of one thing ye may be sure, that these men +will not abide our pleasure till we cut them all off in scattered +bands, nor will they sit deedless at home. Nor indeed may they; for +we have heard from their thralls that they look to have fresh tribes +of them come to hand to eat their meat and waste their servants, and +these and they must find new abodes and new thralls; and they are now +warned by the overthrows and slayings that they have had at our hands +that we are astir, and they will not delay long, but will fall upon +us with all their host; it might even be to-day or to-morrow.' + +Said Folk-might: 'In all this thou sayest sooth, brother of the +Dale; and to cut this matter short, I will tell you all, that +yesterday we had with us a runaway from Silver-dale (it is overlong +to tell how we fell in with her; for it was a woman). But she told +us that this very moon is a new tribe come into the Dale, six long +hundreds in number, and twice as many more are looked for in two +eights of days, and that ere this moon hath waned, that is, in +twenty-four days, they will wend their ways straight for Burgdale, +for they know the ways thereto. So I say that Face-of-god is right +in all wise. But tell me, brother, hast thou thought of how we shall +come upon these men?' + +'How many men wilt thou lead into battle?' said Face-of-god. + +Folk-might reddened, and said: 'A few, a few; maybe two-hundreds all +told.' + +'Yea,' said Face-of-god, 'but some special gain wilt thou be to us.' + +'So I deem at least,' said Folk-might. + +Said Face-of-god: 'Good is that. Now have we held our Weapon-show +in the Dale, and we find that we together with you be sixteen long +hundreds of men; and the tale of the foemen that be now in Silver- +dale, new-comers and all, shall be three thousands or thereabout, and +in Rose-dale hard on a thousand.' + +'Scarce so many,' said Folk-might; 'some of the felons have died; we +told over our silver arm-rings yesterday, and the tale was three +hundred and eighty and six. Besides, they were never so many as thou +deemest.' + +'Well,' said Face-of-god, 'yet at least they shall outnumber us +sorely. We may scarce leave the Dale unguarded when our host is +gone; therefore I deem that we shall have but one thousand of men for +our onslaught on Silver-dale.' + +'How come ye to that?' said Stone-face. + +Said Face-of-god: 'Abide a while, fosterer! Though the odds between +us be great, it is not to be hidden that I wot how ye of the Wolf +know of privy passes into Silver-dale; yea, into the heart thereof; +and this is the special gain ye have to give us. Therefore we, the +thousand men, falling on the foe unawares, shall make a great +slaughter of them; and if the murder be but grim enough, those +thralls of theirs shall fear us and not them, as already they hate +them and not us, so that we may look to them for rooting out these +sorry weeds after the overthrow. And what with one thing, what with +another, we may cherish a good hope of clearing Silver-dale at one +stroke with the said thousand men. + +'There remaineth Rose-dale, which will be easier to deal with, +because the Dusky Men therein are fewer and the thralls as many: +that also would I fall on at the same time as we fall on Silver-dale +with the men that are left over from the Silver-dale onslaught. +Wherefore my rede is, that we gather all those unmeet for battle in +the field into this Burg, with ten tens of men to strengthen them; +which shall be enough for them, along with the old men, and lads, and +sturdy women, to defend themselves till help comes, if aught of evil +befall, or to flee into the mountains, or at the worst to die +valiantly. Then let the other five hundreds fare up to Rose-dale, +and fall on the Dusky Men therein about the same time, but not before +our onslaught on Silver-dale: thus shall hand help foot, so that +stumbling be not falling; and we may well hope that our rede shall +thrive.' + +Then was he silent, and the Sun-beam looked upon him with gleaming +eyes and parted lips, waiting eagerly to hear what Folk-might would +say. He held his peace a while, drumming on the board with his +fingers, and none else spake a word. At last he said: + +'War-leader of Burgdale, all that thou hast spoken likes me well, and +even so must it be done, saving that parting of our host and sending +one part to fall upon Rose-dale. I say, nay; let us put all our +might into that one stroke on Silver-dale, and then we are undone +indeed if we fail; but so shall we be if we fail anywise; but if we +win Silver-dale, then shall Rose-dale lie open before us.' + +'My brother,' said Face-of-god, 'thou art a tried warrior, and I but +a lad: but dost thou not see this, that whatever we do, we shall not +at one onslaught slay all the Dusky Men of Silver-dale, and those +that flee before us shall betake them to Rose-dale, and tell all the +tale, and what shall hinder them then from falling on Burgdale (since +they are no great way from it) after they have murdered what they +will of the unhappy people under their hands?' + +Said Folk-might: 'I say not but that there is a risk thereof, but in +war we must needs run such risks, and all should be risked rather +than that our blow on Silver-dale be light. For we be the fewer; and +if the foemen have time to call that to mind, then are we all lost.' + +Said Stone-face: 'Meseemeth, War-leader, that there is nought much +to dread in leaving Rose-dale to itself for a while; for not only may +we follow hard on the fleers if they flee to Rose-dale, and be there +no long time after them, before they have time to stir their host but +also after the overthrow we shall be free to send men back to +Burgdale by way of Shadowy Vale. I deem that herein Folk-might hath +the right of it.' + +'Even so say I,' said the Alderman; 'besides, we might theft leave +more folk behind us for the warding of the Dale. So, son, the risk +whereof thou speakest groweth the lesser the longer it is looked on.' + +Then spake the Dale-warden: 'Yet saving your wisdom, Alderman, the +risk is there yet. For if these felons come into the Dale at all, +even if the folk left behind hold the Burg and keep themselves +unmurdered, yet may they not hinder the foe from spoiling our +homesteads; so that our folk coming back in triumph shall find ruin +at home, and spend weary days in hunting their foemen, who shall, +many of them, escape into the Wild-wood.' + +'Yea,' said the Sun-beam, 'sooth is that; and Face-of-god is wise to +think of it and of other matters. Yet one thing we must bear in +mind, that all may not go smoothly in our day's work in Silver-dale; +so we must have force there to fall back on, in case we miss our +stroke at first. Therefore, I say, send we no man to Rose-dale, and +leave we no able man-at-arms behind in the Burg, so that we have with +us every blade that may be gathered.' + +Iron-face smiled and said: 'Thou art wise, damsel; and I marvel that +so fair-fashioned a thing as thou can think so hardly of the meeting +of the fallow blades. But hearken! will not the Dusky Men hear that +we have stripped the Dale of fighting-men, and may they not then give +our host the go-by and send folk to ruin us?' + +There was silence while Face-of-god looked down on the board; but +presently he lifted up his face and said: + +'Folk-might was right when he said that all must be risked. Let us +leave Rose-dale till we have overcome them of Silver-dale. Moreover, +my father, thou must not deem of these felons as if they were of like +wits to us, to forecast the deeds to come, and weigh the chances +nicely, and unravel tangled clews. Rather they move like to the +stares in autumn, or the winter wild-geese, and will all be thrust +forward by some sting that entereth into their imaginations. +Therefore, if they have appointed one moon to wear before they fall +upon us, they will not stir till then, and we have time enough to do +what must be done. Wherefore am I now of one mind with the rest of +you. Now meseemeth it were well that these things which we have +spoken here, and shall speak, should not be noised abroad openly; +nay, at the Folk-mote it would be well that nought be said about the +day or the way of our onslaught on Silver-dale, lest the foe take +warning and be on their guard. Though, sooth to say, did I deem that +if they had word of our intent they of Rose-dale would join +themselves to them of Silver-dale, and that we should thus have all +our foes in one net, then were I fain if the word would reach them. +For my soul loathes the hunting that shall befall up and down the +wood for the slaying of a man here, and two or three there, and the +wearing of the days in wandering up and down with weapons in the +hand, and the spinning out of hatred and delaying of peace.' + +Then Iron-face reached his hand across the board and took his son's +hand, and said: + +'Hail to thee, son, for thy word! Herein thou speakest as if from my +very soul, and fain am I of such a War-leader.' + +And desire drew the eyes of the Sun-beam to Face-of-god, and she +beheld him proudly. But he said: + +'All hath been spoken that the others of us may speak; and now it +falleth to the part of Folk-might to order our goings for the tryst +for the onslaught, and the trysting-place shall be in Shadowy Vale. +How sayest thou, Chief of the Wolf?' + +Said Folk-might: 'I have little to say; and it is for the War-leader +to see to this closely and piecemeal. I deem, as we all deem, that +there should be no delay; yet were it best to wend not all together +to Shadowy Vale, but in divers bands, as soon as ye may after the +Folk-mote, by the sure and nigh ways that we shall show you. And +when we are gathered there, short is the rede, for all is ready there +to wend by the passes which we know throughly, and whereby it is but +two days' journey to the head of Silver-dale, nigh to the caves of +the silver, where the felons dwell the thickest.' + +He set his teeth, and his colour came and went: for as constantly as +the onslaught had been in his mind, yet whenever he spake of the +great day of battle, hope and joy and anger wrought a tumult in his +soul; and now that it was so nigh withal, he could not refrain his +joy. + +But he spake again: 'Now therefore, War-leader, it is for thee to +order the goings of thy folk. But I will tell thee that they shall +not need to take aught with them save their weapons and victual for +the way, that is, for thirty hours; because all is ready for them in +Shadowy Vale, though it be but a poor place as to victual. Canst +thou tell us, therefore, what thou wilt do?' + +Face-of-god had knit his brows and become gloomy of countenance; but +now his face cleared, and he set his hand to his pouch, and drew +forth a written parchment, and said: + +'This is the order whereof I have bethought me. Before the Folk-mote +I and the Wardens shall speak to the leaders of hundreds, who be +mostly here at the Fair, and give them the day and the hour whereon +they shall, each hundred, take their weapons and wend to Shadowy +Vale, and also the place where they shall meet the men of yours who +shall lead them across the Waste. These hundred-leaders shall then +go straightway and give the word to the captains of scores, and the +captains of scores to the captains of tens; and if, as is scarce +doubtful, the Folk-mote yea-says the onslaught and the fellowship +with you of the Wolf, then shall those leaders of tens bring their +men to the trysting-place, and so go their ways to Shadowy Vale. Now +here I have the roll of our Weapon-show, and I will look to it that +none shall be passed over; and if ye ask me in what order they had +best get on the way, my rede is that a two hundred should depart on +the very evening of the day of the Folk-mote, and these to be of our +folk of the Upper Dale; and on the morning of the morrow of the Folk- +mote another two hundreds from the Dale; and in the evening of the +same day the folk of the Shepherds, three hundreds or more, and that +will be easy to them; again on the next day two more bands of the +Lower Dale, one in the morning, one in the evening. Lastly, in the +earliest dawn of the third day from the Folk-mote shall the +Woodlanders wend their ways. But one hundred of men let us leave +behind for the warding of the Burg, even as we agreed before. As for +the place of tryst for the faring over the Waste, let it be the end +of the knolls just by the jaws of the pass yonder, where the +Weltering Water comes into the Dale from the East. How say ye?' + +They all said, and Folk-might especially, that it was right well +devised, and that thus it should be done. + +Then turned Face-of-god to the Dale-warden, and said: + +'It were good, brother, that we saw the other wardens as soon as may +be, to do them to wit of this order, and what they have to do.' + +Therewith he arose and took the Elder of the Dale-wardens away with +him, and the twain set about their business straight-way. Neither +did the others abide long in the Hall, but went out into the Burg to +see the chapmen and their wares. There the Alderman bought what he +needed of iron and steel and other matters; and Folk-might cheapened +him a dagger curiously wrought, and a web of gold and silk for the +Sun-beam, for which wares he paid in silver arm-rings, new-wrought +and of strange fashion. + +But amidst of the chaffer was now a great ring of men; and in the +midst of the ring stood Redesman, fiddle and bow in hand, and with +him were four damsels wondrously arrayed; for the first was clad in a +smock so craftily wrought with threads of green and many colours, +that it seemed like a piece of the green field beset with primroses +and cowslips and harebells and windflowers, rather than a garment +woven and sewn; and in her hand she bore a naked sword, with golden +hilts and gleaming blade. But the second bore on her roses done in +like manner, both blossoms and green leaves, wherewith her body was +covered decently, which else had been naked. The third was clad as +though she were wading the wheat-field to the waist, and above was +wrapped in the leaves and bunches of the wine-tree. And the fourth +was clad in a scarlet gown flecked with white wool to set forth the +winter's snow, and broidered over with the burning brands of the Holy +Hearth; and she bore on her head a garland of mistletoe. And these +four damsels were clearly seen to image the four seasons of the year- +-Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. But amidst them stood a +fountain or conduit of gilded work cunningly wrought, and full of the +best wine of the Dale, and gilded cups and beakers hung about it. + +So now Redesman fell to caressing his fiddle with the bow till it +began to make sweet music, and therewith the hearts of all danced +with it; and presently words come into his mouth, and he fell to +singing; and the damsels answered him: + + +Earth-wielders, that fashion the Dale-dwellers' treasure, + Soft are ye by seeming, yet hardy of heart! +No warrior amongst us withstandeth your pleasure; + No man from his meadow may thrust you apart. + +Fresh and fair are your bodies, but far beyond telling + Are the years of your lives, and the craft ye have stored. +Come give us a word, then, concerning our dwelling, + And the days to befall us, the fruit of the sword. + +Winter saith: + +When last in the feast-hall the Yule-fire flickered, + The foot of no foeman fared over the snow, +And nought but the wind with the ash-branches bickered: + Next Yule ye may deem it a long time ago. + +Autumn saith: + +Loud laughed ye last year in the wheat-field a-smiting; + And ye laughed as your backs drave the beam of the press. +When the edge of the war-sword the acres are lighting + Look up to the Banner and laugh ye no less. + +Summer saith: + +Ye called and I came, and how good was the greeting, + When ye wrapped me in roses both bosom and side! +Here yet shall I long, and be fain of our meeting, + As hidden from battle your coming I bide. + +Spring saith: + +I am here for your comfort, and lo! what I carry; + The blade with the bright edges bared to the sun. +To the field, to the work then, that e'en I may tarry + For the end of the tale in my first days begun! + + +Therewith the throng opened, and a young man stepped lightly into the +ring, clad in very fair armour, with a gilded helm on his head; and +he took the sword from the hand of the Maiden of Spring, and waved it +in the air till the westering sun flashed back from it. Then each of +the four damsels went up to the swain and kissed his mouth; and +Redesman drew the bow across the strings, and the four damsels sang +together, standing round about the young warrior: + + +It was but a while since for earth's sake we trembled, + Lest the increase our life-days had won for the Dale, +All the wealth that the moons and the years had assembled, + Should be but a mock for the days of your bale. + +But now we behold the sun smite on the token + In the hand of the Champion, the heart of a man; +We look down the long years and see them unbroken; + Forth fareth the Folk by the ways it began. + +So bid ye these chapmen in autumn returning, + To bring iron for ploughshares and steel for the scythe, +And the over-sea oil that hath felt the sun's burning, + And fair webs for your women soft-spoken and blithe; + +And pledge ye your word in the market to meet them, + As many a man and as many a maid, +As eager as ever, as guest-fain to greet them, + And bide till the booth from the waggon is made. + +Come, guests of our lovers! for we, the year-wielders, + Bid each man and all to come hither and take +A cup from our hands midst the peace of our shielders, + And drink to the days of the Dale that we make. + + +Then went the damsels to that wine-fountain, and drew thence cups of +the best and brightest wine of the Dale, and went round about the +ring, and gave drink to whomsoever would, both of the chapmen and the +others; while the weaponed youth stood in the midst bearing aloft his +sword and shield like an image in a holy place, and Redesman's bow +still went up and down the strings, and drew forth a sweet and merry +tune. + +Great game it was now to see the stark Burgdale carles dragging the +Men of the Plain, little loth, up to the front of the ring, that they +might stretch out their hands for a cup, and how many a one, as he +took it, took as much as he might of the damsel's hand withal. As +for the damsels, they played the Holy Play very daintily, neither +reddening nor laughing, but faring so solemnly, and withal so sweetly +and bright-faced, that it might well have been deemed that they were +in very sooth Maidens of the God of Earth sent from the ever-enduring +Hall to cheer the hearts of men. + +So simply and blithely did the Men of Burgdale disport them after the +manner of their fathers, trusting in their valour and beholding the +good days to be. + +So wore the evening, and when night was come, men feasted throughout +the Burg from house to house, and every hall was full. But the +Guests from Shadowy Vale feasted in the Hall of the Face in all glee +and goodwill; and with them were the chief of the chapmen and two +others; but the rest of them had been laid hold of by goodmen of the +Burg, and dragged into their feast-halls, for they were fain of those +guests and their tales. One of the chapmen in the House of the Face +knew Folk-might, and hailed him by the name he had borne in the +Cities, Regulus to wit; indeed, the chief chapman knew him, and even +somewhat over-well, for he had been held to ransom by Folk-might in +those past days, and even yet feared him, because he, the chapman, +had played somewhat of a dastard's part to him. But the other was an +open-hearted and merry fellow, and no weakling; and Folk-might was +fain of his talk concerning times bygone, and the fields they had +foughten in, and other adventures that had befallen them, both good +and evil. + +As for Face-of-god, he went about the Hall soberly, and spake no more +than behoved him, so as not to seem a mar-feast; for the image of the +slaughter to be yet abode with him, and his heart foreboded the +after-grief of the battle. He had no speech with the Sun-beam till +men were sundering after the feast, and then he came close to her +amidst of the turmoil, and said: + +'Time presses on me these days; but if thou wouldest speak with me +to-morrow as I would with thee, then mightest thou go on the Bridge +of the Burg about sunrise, and I will be there, and we two only.' + +Her face, which had been somewhat sad that evening (for she had been +watching his), brightened at that word, and she took his hand as folk +came thronging round about them, and said: + +'Yea, friend, I shall be there, and fain of thee.' And therewithal +they sundered for that night. + +And all men went to sleep throughout the Burg: howbeit they set a +watch at the Burg-Gate; and Hall-face, when he was coming back from +the woodland ward about sunset, fell in with Redcoat of Waterless and +four score men on the Portway coming to meet him and take his place. +All which was clean contrary to the wont of the Burgdalers, who at +most whiles held no watch and ward, not even in Fair-time. + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. FACE-OF-GOD TALKETH WITH THE SUN-BEAM + + + +Face-of-God was at the Bridge on the morrow before sun-rising, and as +he turned about at the Bridge-foot he saw the Sun-beam coming down +the street; and his heart rose to his mouth at the sight of her, and +he went to meet her and took her by the hand; and there were no words +between them till they had kissed and caressed each other, for there +was no one stirring about them. So they went over the Bridge into +the meadows, and eastward of the beaten path thereover. + +The grass was growing thick and strong, and it was full of flowers, +as the cowslip and the oxlip, and the chequered daffodil, and the +wild tulip: the black-thorn was well-nigh done blooming, but the +hawthorn was in bud, and in some places growing white. It was a fair +morning, warm and cloudless, but the night had been misty, and the +haze still hung about the meadows of the Dale where they were +wettest, and the grass and its flowers were heavy with dew, so that +the Sun-beam went barefoot in the meadow. She had a dark cloak cast +over her kirtle, and had left her glittering gown behind her in the +House. + +They went along hand in hand exceeding fain of each other, and the +sun rose as they went, and the long beams of gold shone through the +tops of the tall trees across the grass they trod, and a light wind +rose up in the north, as Face-of-god stayed a moment and turned +toward the Face of the Sun and prayed to Him, while the Sun-beam's +hand left the War-leader's hand and stole up to his golden locks and +lay amongst them. + +Presently they went on, and the feet of Face-of-god led him unwitting +toward the chestnut grove by the old dyke where he had met the Bride +such a little while ago, till he bethought whither he was going and +stopped short and reddened; and the Sun-beam noted it, but spake not; +but he said: 'Hereby is a fair place for us to sit and talk till the +day's work beginneth.' + +So then he turned aside, and soon they came to a hawthorn brake out +of which arose a great tall-stemmed oak, showing no green as yet save +a little on its lower twigs; and anigh it, yet with room for its +boughs to grow freely, was a great bird-cherry tree, all covered now +with sweet-smelling white blossoms. There they sat down on the trunk +of a tree felled last year, and she cast off her cloak, and took his +face between her two hands and kissed him long and fondly, and for a +while their joy had no word. But when speech came to them, it was +she that spake first and said: + +'Gold-mane, my dear, sorely I wonder at thee and at me, how we are +changed since that day last autumn when I first saw thee. Whiles I +think, didst thou not laugh when thou wert by thyself that day, and +mock at me privily, that I must needs take such wisdom on myself, and +lesson thee standing like a stripling before me. Dost thou not call +it all to mind and make merry over it, now that thou art become a +great chieftain and a wise warrior, and I am yet what I always was, a +young maiden of the kindred; save that now I abide no longer for my +love?' + +Her face was exceeding bright and rippled with joyous smiles, and he +looked at her and deemed that her heart was overflowing with +happiness, and he wondered at her indeed that she was so glad of him, +and he said: + +'Yea, indeed, oft do I see that morning in the woodland hall and thee +and me therein, as one looketh on a picture; yea verily, and I laugh, +yet is it for very bliss; neither do I mock at all. Did I not deem +thee a God then? and am I not most happy now when I can call it thus +to mind? And as to thee, thou wert wise then, and yet art thou wise +now. Yea, I thought thee a God; and if we are changed, is it not +rather that thou hast lifted me up to thee, and not come down to me?' + +Yet therewithal he knit his brows somewhat and said: + +'Yet thou hast not to tell me that all thy love for thy Folk, and thy +yearning hope for its recoverance, was but a painted show. Else why +shouldst thou love me the better now that I am become a chieftain, +and therefore am more meet to understand thy hope and thy sorrow? +Did I not behold thee as we stood before the Wolf of the Hall of +Shadowy Vale, how the tears stood in thine eyes as thou beheldest +him, and thine hand in mine quivered and clung to me, and thou wert +all changed in a moment of time? Was all this then but a seeming and +a beguilement?' + +'O young man,' she said, 'hast thou not said it, that we stood there +close together, and my hand in thine and desire growing up in me? +Dost thou not know how this also quickeneth the story of our Folk, +and our goodwill towards the living, and remembrance of the dead? +Shall they have lived and desired, and we deny desire and life? Or +tell me: what was it made thee so chieftain-like in the Hall +yesterday, so that thou wert the master of all our wills, for as +self-willed as some of us were? Was it not that I, whom thou deemest +lovely, was thereby watching thee and rejoicing in thee? Did not the +sweetness of thy love quicken thee? Yet because of that was thy +warrior's wisdom and thy foresight an empty show? Heedest thou +nought the Folk of the Dale? Wouldest thou sunder from the children +of the Fathers, and dwell amongst strangers?' + +He kissed her and smiled on her and said: 'Did I not say of thee +that thou wert wiser than the daughters of men? See how wise thou +hast made me!' + +She spake again: 'Nay, nay, there was no feigning in my love for my +people. How couldest thou think it, when the Fathers and the kindred +have made this body that thou lovest, and the voice of their songs is +in the speech thou deemest sweet?' + +He said: 'Sweet friend, I deemed not that there was feigning in +thee: I was but wondering what I am and how I was fashioned, that I +should make thee so glad that thou couldst for a while forget thy +hope of the days before we met.' + +She said: 'O how glad, how glad! Yet was I nought hapless. In +despite of all trouble I had no down-weighing grief, and I had the +hope of my people before me. Good were my days; but I knew not till +now how glad a child of man may be.' + +Their words were hushed for a while amidst their caresses. Then she +said: + +'Gold-mane, my friend, I mocked not my past self because I deem that +I was a fool then, but because I see now that all that my wisdom +could do, would have come about without my wisdom; and that thou, +deeming thyself something less than wise, didst accomplish the thing +I craved, and that which thou didst crave also; and withal wisdom +embraced thee, along with love.' + +Therewith she cast her arms about him and said: + +'O friend, I mock myself of this: that erst thou deemedst me a God +and fearedst me, but now thou seemest to me to be a God, and I fear +thee. Yea, though I have longed so sore to be with thee since the +day of Shadowy Vale, and though I have wearied of the slow wearing of +the days, and it hath tormented me; yet now that I am with thee, I +bless the torment of my longing; for it is but my longing that +compelleth me to cast away my fear of thee and caress thee, because I +have learned how sweet it is to love thee thus.' + +He wound his arms about her, and sweeter was their longing than mere +joy; and though their love was beyond measure, yet was therein no +shame to aught, not even to the lovely Dale and that fair season of +spring, so goodly they were among the children of men. + +In a while they arose and turned homeward, and went over the open +meadow, and it was yet early, and the dew was as heavy on the grass +as before, though the wide sunlight was now upon it, glittering on +the wet blades, and shining through the bells of the chequered +daffodils till they looked like gouts of blood. + +'Look,' said Sun-beam, as they went along by the same way whereas +they came, 'deemest thou not that other speech-friends besides us +have been abroad to talk together apart on this morning of the eve of +battle. It is nought unwonted, that we do, even though we forget the +trouble of the people to think of our own joy for a while.' + +The smile died out of her face as she spoke, and she said: + +'O friend, this much may I say for myself in all sooth, that indeed I +would die for the kindred and its good days, nor falter therein; but +if I am to die, might I but die in thine arms!' + +He looked very lovingly on her, and put his arm about her and kissed +her and said: 'What ails us to stand in the doom-ring and bear +witness against ourselves before the kindred? Now I will say, that +whatsoever the kindred may or can call upon me to do, that will I do, +nor grudge the deed: I am sackless before them. But that is true +which I spake to thee when we came together up out of Shadowy Vale, +to wit, that I am no strifeful man, but a peaceful; and I look to it +to win through this war, and find on the other side either death, or +life amongst a happy folk; and I deem that this is mostly the mind of +our people.' + +She said: 'Thou shalt not die, thou shalt not die!' + +'Mayhappen not,' he said; 'yet yesterday I could not but look into +the slaughter to come, and it seemed to me a grim thing, and darkened +the day for me; and I grew acold as a man walking with the dead. But +tell me: thou sayest I shall not die; dost thou say this only +because I am become dear to thee, or dost thou speak it out of thy +foresight of things to come?' + +She stopped and looked silently a while over the meadows towards the +houses of the Thorp: they were standing now on the border of a +shallow brook that ran down toward the Weltering Water; it had a +little strand of fine sand like the sea-shore, driven close together, +and all moist, because that brook was used to flood the meadow for +the feeding of the grass; and the last evening the hatches which held +up the water had been drawn, so that much had ebbed away and left the +strand aforesaid. + +After a while the Sun-beam turned to Face-of-god, and she was become +somewhat pale; she said: + +'Nay, I have striven to see, and can see nought save the picture of +hope and fear that I make for myself. So it oft befalleth foreseeing +women, that the love of a man cloudeth their vision. Be content, +dear friend; it is for life or death; but whichso it be, the same for +me and thee together?' + +'Yea,' he said, 'and well content I am; so now let each of us trust +in the other to be both good and dear, even as I trusted in thee the +first hour that I looked on thee.' + +'It is well,' she said; 'it is well. How fair thou art; and how fair +is the morn, and this our Dale in the goodly season; and all this +abideth us when the battle is over.' + +Once more her voice became sweet and wheedling, and the smile lit up +her face again, and she pointed down to the sand with her finger, and +said: + +'See thou! Here indeed have other lovers passed by across the brook. +Shall we wish them good luck?' + +He laughed and looked down on the sand, and said: + +'Thou art in haste to make a story up. Indeed I see that these first +footprints are of a woman, for no carle of the Dale has a foot as +small; for we be tall fellows; and these others withal are a man's +footprints; and if they showed that they had been walking side by +side, simple had been thy tale; but so it is not. I cannot say that +these two pairs of feet went over the brook within five minutes of +each other; but sure it is that they could not have been faring side +by side. Well, belike they were lovers bickering, and we may wish +them luck out of that. Truly it is well seen that Bow-may hath done +thine hunting for thee, dear friend; or else wouldest thou have +lacked venison; for thou hast no hunter's eye.' + +'Well,' she said, 'but wish them luck, and give me thine hand upon +it.' + +He took her hand, and fondled it, and said: 'By this hand of my +speech-friend, I wish these twain all luck, in love and in leisure, +in faring and fighting, in sowing and samming, in getting and giving. +Is it well enough wished? If so it be, then come thy ways, dear +friend; for the day's work is at hand.' + +'It is well wished,' she said. 'Now hearken: by the valiant hand of +the War-leader, by the hand that shall unloose my girdle, I wish +these twain to be as happy as we be.' + +He made as if to draw her away, but she hung aback to set the print +of her foot beside the woman's foot, and then they went on together, +and soon crossed the Bridge, and came home to the House of the Face. + +When they had broken their fast, Face-of-god would straight get to +his business of ordering matters for the warfare, and was wishful to +speak with Folk-might; but found him not, either in the House or the +street. But a man said: + +'I saw the tall Guest come abroad from the House and go toward the +Bridge very early in the morning.' + +The Sun-beam, who was anigh when that was spoken, heard it and +smiled, and said: 'Gold-mane, deemest thou that it was my brother +whom we blessed?' + +'I wot not,' he said; 'but I would he were here, for this gear must +speedily be looked to.' + +Nevertheless it was nigh an hour before Folk-might came home to the +House. He strode in lightly and gaily, and shaking the crest of his +war-helm as he went. He looked friendly on Face-of-god, and said to +him: + +'Thou hast been seeking me, War-leader; but grudge it not that I have +caused thee to tarry. For as things have gone, I am twice the man +for thine helping that I was yester-eve; and thou art so ready and +deft, that all will be done in due time.' + +He looked as if he would have had Face-of-god ask of him what made +him so fain, but Face-of-god said only: + +'I am glad of thy gladness; but now let us dally no longer, for I +have many folk to see to-day and much to set a-going.' + +So therewith they spake together a while, and then went their ways +together toward Carlstead and the Woodlanders. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. FOLK-MIGHT SPEAKETH WITH THE BRIDE + + + +It must be told that those footprints which Face-of-god and the Sun- +beam had blessed betwixt jest and earnest had more to do with them +than they wotted of. For Folk-might, who had had many thoughts and +longings since he had seen the Bride again, rose up early about +sunrise, and went out-a-doors, and wandered about the Burg, letting +his eyes stray over the goodly stone houses and their trim gardens, +yet noting them little, since the Bride was not there. + +At last he came to where there was an open place, straight-sided, +longer than it was wide, with a wall on each side of it, over which +showed the blossomed boughs of pear and cherry and plum-trees: on +either hand before the wall was a row of great lindens, now showing +their first tender green, especially on their lower twigs, where they +were sheltered by the wall. At the nether end of this place Folk- +might saw a grey stone house, and he went towards it betwixt the +lindens, for it seemed right great, and presently was but a score of +paces from its door, and as yet there was no man, carle or queen, +stirring about it. + +It was a long low house with a very steep roof; but belike the hall +was built over some undercroft, for many steps went up to the door on +either hand; and the doorway was low, with a straight lintel under +its arch. This house, like the House of the Face, seemed ancient and +somewhat strange, and Folk-might could not choose but take note of +it. The front was all of good ashlar work, but it was carven all +over, without heed being paid to the joints of the stones, into one +picture of a flowery meadow, with tall trees and bushes in it, and +fowl perched in the trees and running through the grass, and sheep +and kine and oxen and horses feeding down the meadow; and over the +door at the top of the stair was wrought a great steer bigger than +all the other neat, whose head was turned toward the sun-rising and +uplifted with open mouth, as though he were lowing aloud. Exceeding +fair seemed that house to Folk-might, and as though it were the +dwelling of some great kindred. + +But he had scarce gone over it with his eyes, and was just about to +draw nigher yet to it, when the door at the top of those steps +opened, and a woman came out of the house clad in a green kirtle and +a gown of brazil, with a golden-hilted sword girt to her side. Folk- +might saw at once that it was the Bride, and drew aback behind one of +the trees so that she might not see him, if she had not already seen +him, as it seemed not that she had, for she stayed but for a moment +on the top of the stair, looking out down the tree-rows, and then +came down the stair and went soberly along the road, passing so close +to Folk-might that he could see the fashion of her beauty closely, as +one looks into the work of some deftest artificer. Then it came +suddenly into his head that he would follow her and see whither she +was wending. 'At least,' said he to himself, 'if I come not to +speech with her, I shall be nigh unto her, and shall see somewhat of +her beauty.' + +So he came out quietly from behind the tree, and followed her softly; +and he was clad in no garment save his kirtle, and bare no weapons to +clash and jingle, though he had his helm on his head for lack of a +softer hat. He kept her well in sight, and she went straight onward +and looked not back. She went by the way whereas he had come, till +they were in the main street, wherein as yet was no one afoot; she +made her way to the Bridge, and passed over it into the meadows; but +when she had gone but a few steps, she stayed a little and looked on +the ground, and as she did so turned a little toward Folk-might, who +had drawn back into the last of the refuges over the up-stream +buttresses. He saw that there was a half-smile on her face, but he +could not tell whether she were glad or sorry. A light wind was +beginning to blow, that stirred her raiment and raised a lock of hair +that had strayed from the golden fillet round about her head, and she +looked most marvellous fair. + +Now she looked along the grass that glittered under the beams of the +newly-risen sun, and noted belike how heavy the dew lay on it; and +the grass was high already, for the spring had been hot, and haysel +would be early in the Dale. So she put off her shoes, that were of +deerskin and broidered with golden threads, and turned somewhat from +the way, and hung them up amidst the new green leaves of a hawthorn +bush that stood nearby, and so went thwart the meadow somewhat +eastward straight from that bush, and her feet shone out like pearls +amidst the deep green grass. + +Folk-might followed presently, and she stayed not again, nor turned, +nor beheld him; he recked not if she had, for then would he have come +up with her and hailed her, and he knew that she was no foolish +maiden to start at the sight of a man who was the friend of her Folk. + +So they went their ways till she came to the strand of the water- +meadow brook aforesaid, and she went through the little ripples of +the shallow without staying, and on through the tall deep grass of +the meadow beyond, to where they met the brook again; for it swept +round the meadow in a wide curve, and turned back toward itself; so +it was some half furlong over from water to water. + +She stood a while on the brink of the brook here, which was brim-full +and nigh running into the grass, because there was a dam just below +the place; and Folk-might drew nigher to her under cover of the +thorn-bushes, and looked at the place about her and beyond her. The +meadow beyond stream was very fair and flowery, but not right great; +for it was bounded by a grove of ancient chestnut trees, that went on +and on toward the southern cliffs of the Dale: in front of the +chestnut wood stood a broken row of black-thorn bushes, now growing +green and losing their blossom, and he could see betwixt them that +there was a grassy bank running along, as if there had once been a +turf-wall and ditch round about the chestnut trees. For indeed this +was the old place of tryst between Gold-mane and the Bride, whereof +the tale hath told before. + +The Bride stayed scarce longer than gave him time to note all this; +but he deemed that she was weeping, though he could not rightly see +her face; for her shoulders heaved, and she hung her face adown and +put up her hands to it. But now she went a little higher up the +stream, where the water was shallower, and waded the stream and went +up over the meadow, still weeping, as he deemed, and went between the +black-thorn bushes, and sat her down on the grassy bank with her back +to the chestnut trees. + +Folk-might was ashamed to have seen her weeping, and was half-minded +to turn him back again at once; but love constrained him, and he said +to himself, 'Where shall I see her again privily if I pass by this +time and place?' So he waited a little till he deemed she might have +mastered the passion of tears, and then came forth from his bush, and +went down to the water and crossed it, and went quietly over the +meadow straight towards her. But he was not half-way across, when +she lifted up her face from between her hands and beheld the man +coming. She neither started nor rose up; but straightened herself as +she sat, and looked right into Folk-might's eyes as he drew near, +though the tears were not dry on her cheeks. + +Now he stood before her, and said: 'Hail to the Daughter of a mighty +House! Mayst thou live happy!' + +She answered: 'Hail to thee also, Guest of our Folk! Hast thou been +wandering about our meadows, and happened on me perchance?' + +'Nay,' he said; 'I saw thee come forth from the House of the Steer, +and I followed thee hither.' + +She reddened a little, and knit her brow, and said: + +'Thou wilt have something to say to me?' + +'I have much to say to thee,' he said; 'yet it was sweet to me to +behold thee, even if I might not speak with thee.' + +She looked on him with her deep simple eyes, and neither reddened +again, nor seemed wroth; then she said: + +'Speak what thou hast in thine heart, and I will hearken without +anger whatsoever it may be; even if thou hast but to tell me of the +passing folly of a mighty man, which in a month or two he will not +remember for sorrow or for joy. Sit here beside me, and tell me thy +thought.' + +So he sat him adown and said: 'Yea, I have much to say to thee, but +it is hard to me to say it. But this I will say: to-day and +yesterday make the third time I have seen thee. The first time thou +wert happy and calm, and no shadow of trouble was on thee; the second +time thine happy days were waning, though thou scarce knewest it; but +to-day and yesterday thou art constrained by the bonds of grief, and +wouldest loosen them if thou mightest.' + +She said: 'What meanest thou? How knowest thou this? How may a +stranger partake in my joy and my sorrow?' + +He said: 'As for yesterday, all the people might see thy grief and +know it. But when I beheld thee the first time, I saw thee that thou +wert more fair and lovely than all other women; and when I was away +from thee, the thought of thee and thine image were with me, and I +might not put them away; and oft at such and such a time I wondered +and said to myself, what is she doing now? though god wot I was +dealing with tangles and troubles and rough deeds enough. But the +second time I beheld thee, when I had looked to have great joy in the +sight of thee, my heart was smitten with a pang of grief; for I saw +thee hanging on the words and the looks of another man, who was +light-minded toward thee, and that thou wert troubled with the +anguish of doubt and fear. And he knew it not, nor saw it, though I +saw it.' + +Her face grew troubled, and the tearful passion stirred within her. +But she held it aback, and said, as anyone might have said it: + +'How wert thou in the Dale, mighty man? We saw thee not.' + +He said: 'I came hither hidden in other semblance than mine own. +But meddle not therewith; it availeth nought. Let me say this, and +do thou hearken to it. I saw thee yesterday in the street, and thou +wert as the ghost of thine old gladness; although belike thou hast +striven with sorrow; for I see thee with a sword by thy side, and we +have been told that thou, O fairest of women, hast given thyself to +the Warrior to be his damsel.' + +'Yea,' she said, 'that is sooth.' + +He went on: 'But the face which thou bearedst yesterday against thy +will, amidst all the people, that was because thou hadst seen my +sister the Sun-beam for the first time, and Face-of-god with her, +hand clinging to hand, lip longing for lip, desire unsatisfied, but +glad with all hope.' + +She laid hand upon hand in the lap of her gown, and looked down, and +her voice trembled as she said: + +'Doth it avail to talk of this?' + +He said: 'I know not: it may avail; for I am grieved, and shall be +whilst thou art grieved; and it is my wont to strive with my griefs +till I amend them.' + +She turned to him with kind eyes and said: + +'O mighty man, canst thou clear away the tangle which besetteth the +soul of her whose hope hath bewrayed her? Canst thou make hope grow +up in her heart? Friend, I will tell thee that when I wed, I shall +wed for the sake of the kindred, hoping for no joy therein. Yea, or +if by some chance the desire of man came again into my heart, I +should strive with it to rid myself of it, for I should know of it +that it was but a wasting folly, that should but beguile me, and +wound me, and depart, leaving me empty of joy and heedless of life.' + +He shook his head and said: 'Even so thou deemest now; but one day +it shall be otherwise. Or dost thou love thy sorrow? I tell thee, +as it wears thee and wears thee, thou shalt hate it, and strive to +shake it off.' + +'Nay, nay,' she said; 'I love it not; for not only it grieveth me, +but also it beateth me down and belittleth me.' + +'Good is that,' said he. 'I know how strong thine heart is. Now, +wilt thou take mine hand, which is verily the hand of thy friend, and +remember what I have told thee of my grief which cannot be sundered +from thine? Shall we not talk more concerning this? For surely I +shall soon see thee again, and often; since the Warrior, who loveth +me belike, leadeth thee into fellowship with me. Yea, I tell thee, O +friend, that in that fellowship shalt thou find both the seed of +hope, and the sun of desire that shall quicken it.' + +Therewith he arose and stood before her, and held out to her his hand +all hardened with the sword-hilt, and she took it, and stood up +facing him, and said: + +'This much will I tell thee, O friend; that what I have said to thee +this hour, I thought not to have said to any man; or to talk with a +man of the grief that weareth me, or to suffer him to see my tears; +and marvellous I deem it of thee, for all thy might, that thou hast +drawn this speech from out of me, and left me neither angry nor +ashamed, in spite of these tears; and thou whom I have known not, +though thou knewest me! + +'But now it were best that thou depart, and get thee home to the +House of the Face, where I was once so frequent; for I wot that thou +hast much to do; and as thou sayest, it will be in warfare that I +shall see thee. Now I thank thee for thy words and the thought thou +hast had of me, and the pain which thou hast taken to heal my hurt: +I thank thee, I thank thee, for as grievous as it is to show one's +hurts even to a friend.' + +He said: 'O Bride, I thank thee for hearkening to my tale; and one +day shall I thank thee much more. Mayest thou fare well in the Field +and amidst the Folk!' + +Therewith he kissed her hand, and turned away, and went across the +meadow and the stream, glad at heart and blithe with everyone; for +kindness grew in him as gladness grew. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. OF THE FOLK-MOTE OF THE DALESMEN, THE SHEPHERD-FOLK, +AND THE WOODLAND CARLES: THE BANNER OF THE WOLF DISPLAYED + + + +Now came the day of the Great Folk-mote, and there was much thronging +from everywhere to the Mote-stead, but most from Burgstead itself, +whereas few of the Dale-dwellers who had been at the Fair had gone +back home. Albeit some of the Shepherds and of the Dalesmen of the +westernmost Dale had brought light tents, and tilted themselves in in +the night before the Mote down in the meadows below the Mote-stead. +From early morning there had been a stream of folk on the Portway +setting westward; and many came thus early that they might hold +converse with friends and well-wishers; and some that they might +disport them in the woods. Men went in no ordered bands, as the +Burgstead men at least had done on the day of the Weapon-show, save +that a few of them who were arrayed the bravest gathered about the +banners, and went with them to the Mote-stead; for all the banners +must needs be there. + +The Folk-mote was to be hallowed-in three hours before noon, as all +men knew; therefore an hour before that time were all men of the Dale +and the Shepherds assembled that might be looked for, save the +Alderman and the chieftains with the banner of the Burg, and these +were not like to come many minutes before the Hallowing. Folk were +gathered on the Field in such wise, that the men-at-arms made a great +ring round about the Doom-ring, (albeit there were many old men +there, girt with swords that they should never heave up again in +battle), so that without that ring there was nought save women and +children. But when all the other Houses were assembled, men looked +around, and beheld the place of the Woodlanders that it was empty; +and they marvelled that they were thus belated. For now all was +ready, and a watcher had gone up to the Tower on the height, and had +with him the great Horn of Warning, which could be heard past the +Mote-stead and a great way down the Dale: and if he saw foes coming +from the East he should blow one blast; if from the South, two; if +from the West, three; if from the North, four. + +So half an hour from the appointed time of Hallowing rose the rumour +that the Alderman was on the road, and presently they of the women +who were on the outside of the throng, by drawing nigh to the edge of +the sheer rock, could behold the Banner of the Burg on the Portway, +and soon after could see the wain, done about with green boughs, +wherein sat the chieftains in their glittering war-gear. Speedily +they spread the tidings, and a confused shout went up into the air; +and in a little while the wain stayed on Wildlake's Way at the bottom +of the steep slope that went up to the Mote-stead, and the banner of +the Burg came on proudly up the hill. Soon all men beheld it, and +saw that the tall Hall-face bore it in front of his brother Face-of- +god, who came on gleaming in war-gear better than most men had seen; +which was indeed of his father's fashioning, and his father's gift to +him that morning. + +After Face-of-god came the Alderman, and with him Folk-might leading +the Sun-beam by the hand, and then Stone-face and the Elder of the +Dale-wardens; and then the six Burg-wardens: as to the other Dale- +wardens, they were in their places on the Field. + +So now those who had been standing up turned their faces toward the +Altar of the Gods, and those who had been sitting down sprang to +their feet, and the confused rumour of the throng rose into a clear +shout as the chieftains went to their places, and sat them down on +the turf-seats amidst the Doom-ring facing the Speech-hill and the +Altar of the Gods. Amidmost sat the Alderman, on his right hand +Face-of-god, and out from him Hall-face, and then Stone-face and +three of the Wardens; but on his left hand sat first the two Guests, +then the Elder of the Dale-wardens, and then the other three Burg- +wardens; as for the Banner of the Burg, its staff was stuck into the +earth behind them, and the Banner raised itself in the morning wind +and flapped and rippled over their heads. + +There then they sat, and folk abided, and it still lacked some +minutes of the due time, as the Alderman wotted by the shadow of the +great standing-stone betwixt him and the Altar. Therewithal came the +sound of a great horn from out of the wood on the north side, and men +knew it for the horn of the Woodland Carles, and were glad; for they +could not think why they should be belated; and now men stood up a- +tiptoe and on other's shoulders to look over the heads of the women +and children to behold their coming; but their empty place was at the +southwest corner of the ring of men. + +So presently men beheld them marching toward their place, cleaving +the throng of the women and children, a great company; for besides +that they had with them two score more of men under weapons than on +the day of the Weapon-show, all their little ones and women and +outworn elders were with them, some on foot, some riding on oxen and +asses. In their forefront went the two signs of the Battle-shaft and +the War-spear. But moreover, in front of all was borne a great staff +with the cloth of a banner wrapped round about it, and tied up with a +hempen yarn that it might not be seen. + +Stark and mighty men they looked; tall and lean, broad-shouldered, +dark-faced. As they came amongst the throng the voice of their horn +died out, and for a few moments they fared on with no sound save the +tramp of their feet; then all at once the man who bare the hidden +banner lifted up one hand, and straightway they fell to singing, and +with that song they came to their place. And this is some of what +they sang: + + +O white, white Sun, what things of wonder + Hast thou beheld from thy wall of the sky! +All the Roofs of the Rich and the grief thereunder, + As the fear of the Earl-folk flitteth by! + +Thou hast seen the Flame steal forth from the Forest + To slay the slumber of the lands, +As the Dusky Lord whom thou abhorrest + Clomb up to thy Burg unbuilt with hands. + +Thou lookest down from thy door the golden, + Nor batest thy wide-shining mirth, +As the ramparts fall, and the roof-trees olden + Lie smouldering low on the burning earth. + +When flitteth the half-dark night of summer + From the face of the murder great and grim, +'Tis thou thyself and no new-comer + Shines golden-bright on the deed undim. + +Art thou our friend, O Day-dawn's Lover? + Full oft thine hand hath sent aslant +Bright beams athwart the Wood-bear's cover, + Where the feeble folk and the nameless haunt. + +Thou hast seen us quail, thou hast seen us cower, + Thou hast seen us crouch in the Green Abode, +While for us wert thou slaying slow hour by hour, + And smoothing down the war-rough road. + +Yea, the rocks of the Waste were thy Dawns upheaving, + To let the days of the years go through; +And thy Noons the tangled brake were cleaving + The slow-foot seasons' deed to do. + +Then gaze adown on this gift of our giving, + For the WOLF comes wending frith and ford, +And the Folk fares forth from the dead to the living, + For the love of the Lief by the light of the Sword. + + +Then ceased the song, and the whole band of the Woodlanders came +pouring tumultuously into the space allotted them, like the waters +pouring over a river-dam, their white swords waving aloft in the +morning sunlight; and wild and strange cries rose up from amidst +them, with sobbing and weeping of joy. But soon their troubled front +sank back into ordered ranks, their bright blades stood upright in +their hands before them, and folk looked on their company, and deemed +it the very Terror of battle and Render of the ranks of war. Right +well were they armed; for though many of their weapons were ancient +and somewhat worn, yet were they the work of good smiths of old days; +and moreover, if any of them lacked good war-gear of his own, that +had the Alderman and his sons made good to them. + +But before the hedge of steel stood the two tall men who held in +their hands the war-tokens of the Battle-shaft and the War-spear, and +betwixt them stood one who was indeed the tallest man of the whole +assembly, who held the great staff of the hidden banner. And now he +reached up his hand, and plucked at the yarn that bound it, which of +set purpose was but feeble, and tore it off, and then shook the staff +aloft with both hands, and shouted, and lo! the Banner of the Wolf +with the Sun-burst behind him, glittering-bright, new-woven by the +women of the kindred, ran out in the fresh wind, and flapped and +rippled before His warriors there assembled. + +Then from all over the Mote-stead arose an exceeding great shout, and +all men waved aloft their weapons; but the men of Shadowy Vale who +were standing amidst the men of the Face knew not how to demean +themselves, and some of them ran forth into the Field and leapt for +joy, tossing their swords into the air, and catching them by the +hilts as they fell: and amidst it all the Woodlanders now stood +silent, unmoving, as men abiding the word of onset. + +As for that brother and sister: the Sun-beam flushed red all over +her face, and pressed her hands to her bosom, and then the passion of +tears over-mastered her, and her breast heaved, and the tears gushed +out of her eyes, and her body was shaken with weeping. But Folk- +might sat still, looking straight before him, his eyes glittering, +his teeth set, his right hand clutching hard at the hilts of his +sword, which lay naked across his knees. And the Bride, who stood +clad in her begemmed and glittering war-array in the forefront of the +Men of the Steer, nigh unto the seats of the chieftains, beheld Folk- +might, and her face flushed and brightened, and still she looked upon +him. The Alderman's face was as of one pleased and proud; yet was +its joy shadowed as it were by a cloud of compassion. Face-of-god +sat like the very image of the War-god, and stirred not, nor looked +toward the Sun-beam; for still the thought of the after-grief of +battle, and the death of friends and folk that loved him, lay heavy +on his heart, for all that it beat wildly at the shouting of the men. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. OF THE GREAT FOLK-MOTE: ATONEMENTS GIVEN, AND MEN +MADE SACKLESS + + + +Amidst the clamour uprose the Alderman; for it was clear to all men +that the Folk-mote should be holden at once, and the matters of the +War, and the Fellowship, and the choosing of the War-leader, speedily +dealt with. So the Alderman fell to hallowing in the Folk-mote: he +went up to the Altar of the Gods, and took the Gold-ring off it, and +did it on his arm; then he drew his sword and waved it toward the +four airts, and spake; and the noise and shouting fell, and there was +silence but for him: + +'Herewith I hallow in this Folk-mote of the Men of the Dale and the +Sheepcotes and the Woodland, in the name of the Warrior and the +Earth-god and the Fathers of the kindreds. Now let not the peace of +the Mote be broken. Let not man rise against man, or bear blade or +hand, or stick or stone against any. If any man break the Peace of +the Holy Mote, let him be a man accursed, a wild-beast in the Holy +Places; an outcast from home and hearth, from bed and board, from +mead and acre; not to be holpen with bread, nor flesh, nor wine; nor +flax, nor wool, nor any cloth; nor with sword, nor shield, nor axe, +nor plough-share; nor with horse, nor ox, nor ass; with no saddle- +beast nor draught-beast; nor with wain, nor boat, nor way-leading; +nor with fire nor water; nor with any world's wealth. Thus let him +who hath cast out man be cast out by man. Now is hallowed-in the +Folk-mote of the Men of the Dale and the Sheepcotes and the +Woodlands.' + +Therewith he waved his sword again toward the four airts, and went +and sat down in his place. But presently he arose again, and said: + +'Now if man hath aught to say against man, and claimeth boot of any, +or would lay guilt on any man's head, let him come forth and declare +it; and the judges shall be named, and the case shall be tried this +afternoon or to-morrow. Yet first I shall tell you that I, the +Alderman of the Dalesmen, doomed one Iron-face of the House of the +Face to pay a double fine, for that he drew a sword at the Gate-thing +of Burgstead with the intent to break the peace thereof. Thou, +Green-sleeve, bring forth the peace-breaker's fine, that Iron-face +may lay the same on the Altar.' + +Then came forth a man from the men of the Face bearing a bag, and he +brought it to Iron-face, who went up to the Altar and poured forth +weighed gold from the bag thereon, and said: + +'Warden of the Dale, come thou and weigh it!' + +'Nay,' quoth the Warden, 'it needeth not, no man here doubteth thee, +Alderman Iron-face.' + +A murmur of yeasay went up, and none had a word to say against the +Alderman, but they praised him rather: also men were eager to hear +of the war, and the fellowship, and to be done with these petty +matters. Then the Alderman rose again and said: + +'Hath any man a grief against any other of the Kindreds of the Dale, +or the Sheepcotes, or the Woodlands?' + +None answered or stirred; so after he had waited a while, he said: + +'Is there any who hath any guilt to lay against a Stranger, an +Outlander, being such a man as he deems we can come at?' + +Thereat was a stir amongst the Men of the Fleece of the Shepherds, +and their ranks opened, and there came forth an ill-favoured lean old +man, long-nebbed, blear-eyed, and bent, girt with a rusty old sword, +but not otherwise armed. And all men knew Penny-thumb, who had been +ransacked last autumn. As he came forth, it seemed as if his +neighbours had been trying to hold him back; but a stout, broad- +shouldered man, black-haired and red-bearded, made way for the old +man, and led him out of the throng, and stood by him; and this man +was well armed at all points, and looked a doughty carle. He stood +side by side with Penny-thumb, right in front of the men of his +house, and looked about him at first somewhat uneasily, as though he +were ashamed of his fellow; but though many smiled, none laughed +aloud; and they forbore, partly because they knew the man to be a +good man, partly because of the solemn tide of the Folk-mote, and +partly in sooth because they wished all this to be over, and were as +men who had no time for empty mirth. + +Then said the Alderman: 'What wouldest thou, Penny-thumb, and thou, +Bristler, son of Brightling?' + +Then Penny-thumb began to speak in a high squeaky voice: + +'Alderman, and Lord of the Folk!' But therewithal Bristle, pulled +him back, and said: + +'I am the man who hath taken this quarrel upon me, and have sworn +upon the Holy Boar to carry this feud through; and we deem, Alderman, +that if they who slew Rusty and ransacked Penny-thumb be not known +now, yet they soon may be.' + +As he spake, came forth those three men of the Shepherds and the two +Dalesmen who had sworn with him on the Holy Boar. Then up stood +Folk-might, and came forth into the field, and said: + +'Bristler, son of Brightling, and ye other good men and true, it is +but sooth that the ransackers and the slayer may soon be known; and +here I declare them unto you: I it was and none other who slew +Rusty; and I was the leader of those who ransacked Penny-thumb, and +cowed Harts-bane of Greentofts. As for the slaying of Rusty, I slew +him because he chased me, and would not forbear, so that I must +either slay or be slain, as hath befallen me erewhile, and will +befall again, methinks. As for the ransacking of Penny-thumb, I +needed the goods that I took, and he needed them not, since he +neither used them, nor gave them away, and, they being gone, he hath +lived no worser than aforetime. Now I say, that if ye will take the +outlawry off me, which, as I hear, ye laid upon me, not knowing me, +then will I handsel self-doom to thee, Bristler, if thou wilt bear +thy grief to purse, and I will pay thee what thou wilt out of hand; +or if perchance thou wilt call me to Holm, thither will I go, if thou +and I come unslain out of this war. As to the ransacking and cowing +of Harts-bane, I say that I am sackless therein, because the man is +but a ruffler and a man of violence, and hath cowed many men of the +Dale; and if he gainsay me, then do I call him to the Holm after this +war is over; either him or any man who will take his place before my +sword.' + +Then he held his peace, and man spake to man, and a murmur arose, as +they said for the more part that it was a fair and manly offer. But +Bristler called his fellows and Penny-thumb to him, and they spake +together; and sometimes Penny-thumb's shrill squeak was heard above +the deep-voiced talk of the others; for he was a man that harboured +malice. But at last Bristler spake out and said: + +'Tall man, we know that thou art a chieftain and of good will to the +men of the Dale and their friends, and that want drave thee to the +ransacking, and need to the manslaying, and neither the living nor +the dead to whom thou art guilty are to be called good men; therefore +will I bring the matter to purse, if thou wilt handsel me self-doom.' + +'Yea, even so let it be,' quoth Folk-might; and stepped forward and +took Bristler by the hand, and handselled him self-doom. Then said +Bristler: + +'Though Rusty was no good man, and though he followed thee to slay +thee, yet was he in his right therein, since he was following up his +goodman's gear; therefore shalt thou pay a full blood-wite for him, +that is to say, the worth of three hundreds in weed-stuff in whatso +goods thou wilt. As for the ransacking of Penny-thumb, he shall deem +himself well paid if thou give him our hundreds in weed-stuff for +that which thou didst borrow of him.' + +Then Penny-thumb set up his squeak again, but no man hearkened to +him, and each man said to his neighbour that it was well doomed of +Bristler, and neither too much nor too little. But Folk-might bade +Wood-wont to bring thither to him that which he had borne to the +Mote; and he brought forth a big sack, and Folk-might emptied it on +the earth, and lo! the silver rings of the slain felons, and they lay +in a heap on the green field, and they were the best of silver. Then +the Elder of the Dale-wardens weighed out from the heap the blood- +wite for Rusty, according to the due measure of the hundred in weed- +stuff, and delivered it unto Bristler. And Folk-might said: + +'Draw nigh now, Penny-thumb, and take what thou wilt of this gear, +which I need not, and grudge not at me henceforward.' + +But Penny-thumb was afraid, and abode where he was; and Bristler +laughed, and said: 'Take it, goodman, take it; spare not other men's +goods as thou dost thine own.' + +And Folk-might stood by, smiling faintly: so Penny-thumb plucked up +a heart, and drew nigh trembling, and took what he durst from that +heap; and all that stood by said that he had gotten a full double of +what had been awarded to him. But as for him, he went his ways +straight from the Mote-stead, and made no stay till he had gotten him +home, and laid the silver up in a strong coffer; and thereafter he +bewailed him sorely that he had not taken the double of that which he +took, since none would have said him nay. + +When he was gone, the Alderman arose and said: + +'Now, since the fines have been paid duly and freely, according to +the dooming of Bristler, take we off the outlawry from Folk-might and +his fellows, and account them to be sackless before us.' + +Then he called for other cases; but no man had aught more to bring +forward against any man, either of the kindreds or the Strangers. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. OF THE GREAT FOLK-MOTE: MEN TAKE REDE OF THE WAR- +FARING, THE FELLOWSHIP, AND THE WAR-LEADER. FOLK-MIGHT TELLETH +WHENCE HIS PEOPLE CAME. THE FOLK-MOTE SUNDERED + + + +Now a great silence fell upon the throng, and they stood as men +abiding some new matter. Unto them arose the Alderman, and said: + +'Men of the Dale, and ye Shepherds and Woodlanders; it is well known +to you that we have foemen in the wood and beyond it; and now have we +gotten sure tidings, that they will not abide at home or in the wood, +but are minded to fall upon us at home. Now therefore I will not ask +you whether ye will have peace or war; for with these foemen ye may +have peace no otherwise save by war. But if ye think with me, three +things have ye to determine: first, whether ye will abide your foes +in your own houses, or will go meet them at theirs; next, whether ye +will take to you as fellows in arms a valiant folk of the children of +the Gods, who are foemen to our foemen; and lastly, what man ye will +have to be your War-leader. Now, I bid all those here assembled, to +speak hereof, any man of them that will, either what they may have +conceived in their own minds, or what their kindred may have put into +their mouths to speak.' + +Therewith he sat down, and in a little while came forth old Hall-ward +of the House of the Steer, and stood before the Alderman, and said: +'O Alderman, all we say: Since war is awake we will not tarry, but +will go meet our foes while it is yet time. The valiant men of whom +thou tellest shall be our fellows, were there but three of them. We +know no better War-leader than Face-of-god of the House of the Face. +Let him lead us.' + +Therewith he went his ways; and next came forth War-well, and said: +'The House of the Bridge would have Face-of-god for War-leader, these +tall men for fellows, and the shortest way to meet the foe.' And he +went back to his place. + +Next came Fox of Upton, and said: 'Time presses, or much might be +spoken. Thus saith the House of the Bull: Let us go meet the foe, +and take these valiant strangers for way-leaders, and Face-of-god for +War-leader.' And he also went back again. + +Then came forth two men together, an old man and a young, and the old +man spake as soon as he stood still: 'The Men of the Vine bid me say +their will: They will not stay at home to have their houses burned +over their heads, themselves slain on their own hearths, and their +wives haled off to thralldom. They will take any man for their +fellow in arms who will smite stark strokes on their side. They know +Face-of-god, and were liefer of him for War-leader than any other, +and they will follow him wheresoever he leadeth. Thus my kindred +biddeth me say, and I hight Fork-beard of Lea. If I live through +this war, I shall have lived through five.' + +Therewith he went back to his place; but the young man lifted up his +voice and said: 'To all this I say yea, and so am I bidden by the +kindred of the Sickle. I am Red-beard of the Knolls, the son of my +father.' And he went to his place again. + +Then came forth Stone-face, and said: 'The House of the Face saith: +Lead us through the wood, O Face-of-god, thou War-leader, and ye +warriors of the Wolf. I am Stone-face, as men know, and this word +hath been given to me by the kindred.' And he took his place again. + +Then came forth together the three chiefs of the Shepherds, to wit +Hound-under-Greenbury, Strongitharm, and the Hyllier; and +Strongitharm spake for all three, and said: + +'The Men of Greenbury, and they of the Fleece and the Thorn, are of +one accord, and bid us say that they are well pleased to have Face- +of-god for War-leader; and that they will follow him and the warriors +of the Wolf to live or die with them; and that they are ready to go +meet the foe at once, and will not skulk behind the walls of +Greenbury.' + +Therewith the three went back again to their places. + +Then came forth that tall man that bare the Banner of the Wolf, when +he had given the staff into the hands of him who stood next. He came +and stood over against the seat of the chieftains; and for a while he +could say no word, but stood struggling with the strong passion of +his joy; but at last he lifted his hands aloft, and cried out in a +loud voice: + +'O war, war! O death! O wounding and grief! O loss of friends and +kindred! let all this be rather than the drawing back of meeting +hands and the sundering of yearning hearts!' and he went back hastily +to his place. But from the ranks of the Woodlanders ran forth a +young man, and cried out: + +'As is the word of Red-wolf, so is my word, Bears-bane of Carlstead; +and this is the word which our little Folk hath put into our mouths; +and O! that our hands may show the meaning of our mouths; for nought +else can.' + +Then indeed went up a great shout, though many forebore to cry out; +for now were they too much moved for words or sounds. And in special +was Face-of-god moved; and he scarce knew which way to look, lest he +should break out into sobs and weeping; for of late he had been much +among the Woodlanders, and loved them much. + +Then all the noise and clamour fell, and it was to men as if they who +had come thither a folk, had now become an host of war. + +But once again the Alderman rose up and spake: + +'Now have ye yeasaid three things: That we take Face-of-god of the +House of the Face for our War-leader; that we fare under weapons at +once against them who would murder us; and that we take the valiant +Folk of the Wolf for our fellows in arms.' + +Therewith he stayed his speech, and this time the shout arose clear +and most mighty, with the tossing up of swords and the clashing of +weapons on shields. + +Then he said: 'Now, if any man will speak, here is the War-leader, +and here is the chief of our new friends, to answer to whatso any of +the kindred would have answered.' + +Thereon came forth the Fiddle from amongst the Men of the Sickle, and +drew somewhat nigh to the Alderman, and said: + +'Alderman, we would ask of the War-leader if he hath devised the +manner of our assembling, and the way of our war-faring, and the day +of our hosting. More than this I will not ask of him, because we wot +that in so great an assembly it may be that the foe may have some spy +of whom we wot not; and though this be not likely, yet some folk may +babble; therefore it is best for the wise to be wise everywhere and +always. Therefore my rede it is, that no man ask any more concerning +this, but let it lie with the War-leader to bring us face to face +with the foe as speedily as he may.' + +All men said that this was well counselled. But Face-of-god arose +and said: 'Ye Men of the Dale, ye Shepherds and Woodlanders, +meseemeth the Fiddle hath spoken wisely. Now therefore I answer him +and say, that I have so ordered everything since the Gate-thing was +holden at Burgstead, that we may come face to face with the foemen by +the shortest of roads. Every man shall be duly summoned to the +Hosting, and if any man fail, let it be accounted a shame to him for +ever.' + +A great shout followed on his words, and he sat down again. But Fox +of Upton came forth and said: + +'O Alderman, we have yeasaid the fellowship of the valiant men who +have come to us from out of the waste; but this we have done, not +because we have known them, otherwise than by what our kinsman Face- +of-god hath told us concerning them, but because we have seen clearly +that they will be of much avail to us in our warfare. Now, +therefore, if the tall chieftain who sitteth beside thee were to do +us to wit what he is, and whence he and his are come, it were well, +and fain were we thereof; but if he listeth not to tell us, that also +shall be well.' + +Then arose Folk-might in his place; but or ever he could open his +mouth to speak, the tall Red-wolf strode forward bearing with him the +Banner of the Wolf and the Sun-burst, and came and stood beside him; +and the wind ran through the folds of the banner, and rippled it out +above the heads of those twain. Then Folk-might spake and said: + + +'O Men of the Dale and the Sheepcotes, I will do as ye bid me do; +And fain were ye of the story if every deal ye knew. +But long, long were its telling, were I to tell it all: +Let it bide till the Cup of Deliverance ye drink from hall to hall. + +'Like you we be of the kindreds, of the Sons of the Gods we come, +Midst the Mid-earth's mighty Woodland of old we had our home; +But of older time we abided 'neath the mountains of the Earth, +O'er which the Sun ariseth to waken woe and mirth. + +Great were we then and many; but the long days wore us thin, +And war, wherein the winner hath weary work to win. +And the woodland wall behind us e'en like ourselves was worn, +And the tramp of the hosts of the foemen adown its glades was borne +On the wind that bent our wheat-fields. So in the morn we rose, +And left behind the stubble and the autumn-fruited close, +And went our ways to the westward, nor turned aback to see +The glare of our burning houses rise over brake and tree. +But the foe was fierce and speedy, nor long they tarried there, +And through the woods of battle our laden wains must fare; +And the Sons of the Wolf were minished, and the maids of the Wolf +waxed few, +As amidst the victory-singing we fared the wild-wood through. + +'So saith the ancient story, that west and west we went, +And many a day of battle we had in brake, on bent; +Whilst here a while we tarried, and there we hastened on, +And still the battle-harvest from many a folk we won. + +'Of the tale of the days who wotteth? Of the years what man can +tell, +While the Sons of the Wolf were wandering, and knew not where to +dwell? +But at last we clomb the mountains, and mickle was our toil, +As high the spear-wood clambered of the drivers of the spoil; +And tangled were the passes and the beacons flared behind, +And the horns of gathering onset came up upon the wind. +So saith the ancient story, that we stood in a mountain-cleft, +Where the ways and the valleys sundered to the right hand and the +left. +There in the place of sundering all woeful was the rede; +We knew no land before us, and behind was heavy need. +As the sword cleaves through the byrny, so there the mountain flank +Cleft through the God-kin's people; and ne'er again we drank +The wine of war together, or feasted side by side +In the Feast-hall of the Warrior on the fruit of the battle-tide. +For there we turned and sundered; unto the North we went +And up along the waters, and the clattering stony bent; +And unto the South and the Sheepcotes down went our sister's sons; +And O for the years passed over since we saw those valiant ones!' + + +He ceased, and laid his right hand on the banner-staff a little below +the left hand of Red-wolf; and men were so keen to hear each word +that he spake, that there was no cry nor sound of voices when he had +done, only the sound of the rippling banner of the Wolf over the +heads of those twain. The Sun-beam bowed her head now, and wept +silently. But the Bride, she had drawn her sword, and held it +upright in her hand before her, and the sun smote fire from out of +it. + +Then it was but a little while before Red-wolf lifted up his voice, +and sang: + + +'Hearken a wonder, O Folk of the Field, +How they that did sunder stand shield beside shield! + +Lo! the old wont and manner by fearless folk made, +On the Bole of the Banner the brothers' hands laid. + +Lo! here the token of what hath betid! +Grown whole is the broken, found that which was hid. + +Now one way we follow whate'er shall befall; +As seeketh the swallow his yesteryear's hall. + +Seldom folk fewer to fight-stead hath fared; +Ne'er have men truer the battle-reed bared. + +Grey locks now I carry, and old am I grown, +Nor looked I to tarry to meet with mine own. + +For we who remember the deeds of old days +Were nought but the ember of battle ablaze. + +For what man might aid us? what deed and what day +Should come where Weird laid us aloof from the way? + +What man save that other of Twain rent apart, +Our war-friend, our Brother, the piece of our heart. + +Then hearken the wonder how shield beside shield +The twain that did sunder wend down to the Field!' + + +Now when he had made an end, men could no longer forebear the shout; +and it went up into the heavens, and was borne by the west-wind down +the Dale to the ears of the stay-at-home women and men unmeet to go +abroad, and it quickened their blood and the spirits within them as +they heard it, and they smiled and were fain; for they knew that +their kinsfolk were glad. + +But when there was quiet on the Mote-field again, Folk-might spake +again and said; + + +'It is sooth that my Brother sayeth, and that now again we wend, +All the Sons of the Wolf together, till the trouble hath an end. +But as for that tale of the Ancients, it saith that we who went +To the northward, climbed and stumbled o'er many a stony bent, +Till we happed on that isle of the waste-land, and the grass of +Shadowy Vale, +Where we dwelt till we throve a little, and felt our might avail. +Then we fared abroad from the shadow and the little-lighted hold, +And the increase fell to the valiant, and the spoil to the battle- +bold, +And never a man gainsaid us with the weapons in our hands; +And in Silver-dale the happy we gat us life and lands. + +'So wore the years o'er-wealthy; and meseemeth that ye know +How we sowed and reaped destruction, and the Day of the overthrow: +How we leaned on the staff we had broken, and put our lives in the +hand +Of those whom we had vanquished and the feeble of the land; +And these were the stone of stumbling, and the burden not to be +borne, +When the battle-blast fell on us and our day was over-worn. +Thus then did our wealth bewray us, and left us wise and sad; +And to you, bold men, it falleth once more to make us glad, +If so your hearts are bidding, and ye deem the deed of worth. +Such were we; what we shall be, 'tis yours to say henceforth.' + + +He said furthermore: 'How great we have been I have told you +already; and ye shall see for yourselves how little we be now. Is it +enough, and will ye have us for friends and brothers? How say ye?' + +They answered with shout upon shout, so that all the place and the +wild-wood round about was full of the voice of their crying; but when +the clamour fell, then spake the Alderman and said: + +'Friend, and chieftain of the Wolf, thou mayst hear by this shouting +of the people that we have no mind to naysay our yea-say. And know +that it is not our use and manner to seek the strong for friends, and +to thrust aside the weak; but rather to choose for our friends them +who are of like mind to us, men in whom we put our trust. From +henceforth then there is brotherhood between us; we are yours, and ye +are ours; and let this endure for ever!' + +Then were all men full of joy; and now at last the battle seemed at +hand, and the peace beyond the battle. + +Then men brought the hallowed beasts all garlanded with flowers into +the Doom-ring, and there were they slain and offered up unto the +Gods, to wit the Warrior, the Earth-god, and the Fathers; and +thereafter was solemn feast holden on the Field of the Folk-mote, and +all men were fain and merry. Nevertheless, not all men abode there +the feast through; for or ever the afternoon was well worn, were many +men wending along the Portway eastward toward the Upper Dale, each +man in his war-gear and with a scrip hung about him; and these were +they who were bound for the trysting-place and the journey over the +waste. + +So the Folk-mote was sundered; and men went to their houses, and +there abode in peace the time of their summoning; since they wotted +well that the Hosting was afoot. + +But as for the Woodlanders, who were at the Mote-stead with all their +folk, women, children, and old men, they went not back again to +Carlstead; but prayed the neighbours of the Middle Dale to suffer +them to abide there awhile, which they yeasaid with a good will. So +the Woodlanders tilted themselves in, the more part of them, down in +the meadows below the Mote-stead, along either side of Wildlake's +Way; but their ancient folk, and some of the women and children, the +neighbours would have into their houses, and the rest they furnished +with victual and all that they needed without price, looking upon +them as their very guests. For indeed they deemed that they could +see that these men would never return to Carlstead, but would abide +with the Men of the Wolf in Silver-dale, once it were won. And this +they deemed but meet and right, yet were they sorry thereof; for the +Woodlanders were well beloved of all the Dalesmen; and now that they +had gotten to know that they were come of so noble a kindred, they +were better beloved yet, and more looked upon. + + + +CHAPTER XL. OF THE HOSTING IN SHADOWY VALE + + + +It was on the evening of the fourth day after the Folk-mote that +there came through the Waste to the rocky edge of Shadowy Vale a band +of some fifteen score of men-at-arms, and with them a multitude of +women and children and old men, some afoot, some riding on asses and +bullocks; and with them were sumpter asses and neat laden with +household goods, and a few goats and kine. And this was the whole +folk of the Woodlanders come to the Hosting in Shadowy Vale and the +Home of the Children of the Wolf. Their leaders of the way were +Wood-father and Wood-wont and two other carles of Shadowy Vale; and +Red-wolf the tall, and Bears-bane and War-grove were the captains and +chieftains of their company. + +Thus then they entered into the narrow pass aforesaid, which was the +ingate to the Vale from the Waste, and little by little its dimness +swallowed up their long line. As they went by the place where the +lowering of the rock-wall gave a glimpse of the valley, they looked +down into it as Face-of-god had done, but much change was there in +little time. There was the black wall of crags on the other side +stretching down to the ghyll of the great Force; there ran the deep +green waters of the Shivering Flood; but the grass which Face-of-god +had seen naked of everything but a few kine, thereon now the tents of +men stood thick. Their hearts swelled within them as they beheld it, +but they forebore the shout and the cry till they should be well +within the Vale, and so went down silently into the darkness. But as +their eyes caught that dim image of the Wolf on the wall of the pass, +man pointed it out to man, and not a few turned and kissed it +hurriedly; and to them it seemed that many a kiss had been laid on +that dear token since the days of old, and that the hard stone had +been worn away by the fervent lips of men, and that the air of the +mirk place yet quivered with the vows sworn over the sword-blade. + +But down through the dark they went, and so came on to the stony +scree at the end of the pass and into the Vale; and the whole Folk +save the three chieftains flowed over it and stood about it down on +the level grass of the Vale. But those three stood yet on the top of +the scree, bearing the war-signs of the Shaft and the Spear, and +betwixt them the banner of the Wolf and the Sunburst newly displayed +to the winds of Shadowy Vale. + +Up and down the Vale they looked, and saw before the tents of men the +old familiar banners of Burgdale rising and falling in the evening +wind. But amidst of the Doom-ring was pitched a great banner, +whereon was done the image of the Wolf with red gaping jaws on a +field of green; and about him stood other banners, to wit, The Silver +Arm on a red field, the Red Hand on a white field, and on green +fields both, the Golden Bushel and the Ragged Sword. + +All about the plain shone glittering war-gear of men as they moved +hither and thither, and a stream of folk began at once to draw toward +the scree to look on those new-comers; and amidst the helmed +Burgdalers and the white-coated Shepherds went the tall men of the +Wolf, bare-headed and unarmed save for their swords, mingled with the +fair strong women of the kindred, treading barefoot the soft grass of +their own Vale. + +Presently there was a great throng gathered round about the +Woodlanders, and each man as he joined it waved hand or weapon toward +them, and the joy of their welcome sent a confused clamour through +the air. Then forth from the throng stepped Folk-might, unarmed save +his sword, and behind him was Face-of-god, in his war-gear save his +helm, hand in hand with the Sun-beam, who was clad in her goodly +flowered green kirtle, her feet naked like her sisters of the +kindred. + +Then Folk-might cried aloud: 'A full and free greeting to our +brothers! Well be ye, O Sons of our Ancient Fathers! And to-day are +ye the dearer to us because we see that ye have brought us a gift, to +wit, your wives and children, and your grandsires unmeet for war. By +this token we see how great is your trust in us, and that it is your +meaning never to sunder from us again. O well be ye; well be ye!' + +Then spake Red-wolf, and said: 'Ye Sons of the Wolf, who parted from +us of old time in that cleft of the mountains, it is our very selves +that we give unto you; and these are a part of ourselves; how then +should we leave them behind us? Bear witness, O men of Burgdale and +the Sheepcotes, that we have become one Folk with the men of Shadowy +Vale, never to be sundered again!' + +Then all that multitude shouted with a loud voice; and when the shout +had died away, Folk-might spake again: + +'O Warriors of the Sundering, here shall your wives and children +abide, while we go a little journey to rejoice our hearts with the +hard handplay, and take to us that which we have missed: and to- +morrow morn is appointed for this same journey, unless ye be over +foot-weary with the ways of the Waste.' + +Red-wolf smiled as he answered: 'This ye say in jest, brother; for +ye may see that our day's journey hath not been over-much for our old +men; how then should it weary those who may yet bear sword? We are +ready for the road and eager for the handplay.' + +'This is well,' said Folk-might, 'and what was to be looked for. +Therefore, brother, do ye and your counsel-mates come straightway to +the Hall of the Wolf; wherein, after ye have eaten and drunken, shall +we take counsel with our brethren of Burgdale and the Sheepcotes, so +that all may be ordered for battle!' + +Said Red-wolf: 'Good is that, if we must needs abide till to-morrow; +for verily we came not hither to eat and drink and rest our bodies; +but it must be as ye will have it.' + +Then the Sun-beam left the hand of Face-of-god and came forward, and +held out both her palms to the Woodland-folk, and spake in a voice +that was heard afar, though it were a woman's, so clear and sweet it +was; and she said: + +'O Warriors of the Sundering, ye who be not needed in the Hall, and +ye our sisters with your little ones and your fathers, come now to us +and down to the tents which we have arrayed for you, and there think +for a little that we are all at our very home that we long for and +have yet to win, and be ye merry with us and make us merry.' + +Therewith she stepped forward daintily and entered into their throng, +and took an old man of the Woodlanders by the hand, and kissed his +cheek and led him away, and the coming rest seemed sweet to him. And +then came other women of the Vale, kind and fair and smiling, and led +away, some an old mother of the Wood-landers, some a young wife, some +a pair of lads; and not a few forsooth kissed and embraced the stark +warriors, and went away with them toward the tents, which stood along +the side of the Shivering Flood where it was at its quietest; for +there was the grass the softest and most abundant. There on the +green grass were tables arrayed, and lamps were hung above them on +spears, to be litten when the daylight should fail. And the best of +the victual which the Vale could give was spread on the boards, along +with wine and dainties, bought in Silver-dale, or on the edges of the +Westland with sword-strokes and arrow-flight. + +There then they feasted and were merry; and the Sun-beam and Bow-may +and the other women of the Vale served them at table, and were very +blithe with them, caressing them with soft words, and with clipping +and kissing, as folk who were grown exceeding dear to them; so that +that eve of battle was softer and sweeter to them than any hour of +their life. With these feasters were God-swain and Spear-fist of the +delivered thralls of Silver-dale as glad as glad might be; but Wolf- +stone their eldest was gone with Dallach to the Council in the Hall. + +The men of Burgdale and the Shepherds feasted otherwhere in all +content, nor lacked folk of the Vale to serve them. Amongst the men +of the Face were the ten delivered thralls who had heart to meet +their masters in arms: seven of them were of Rose-dale and three of +Silver-dale. + +The Bride was with her kindred of the Steer, with whom were many men +of Shadowy Vale, and she served her friends and fellows clad in her +war-gear, save helm and hauberk, bearing herself as one who is +serving dear guests. And men equalled her for her beauty to the Gods +of the High Place and the Choosers of the Slain; and they who had not +beheld her before marvelled at her, and her loveliness held all men's +hearts in a net of desire, so that they forebore their meat to gaze +upon her; and if perchance her hand touched some young man, or her +cheek or sweet-breathed mouth came nigh to his face, he became +bewildered and wist not where he was, nor what to do. Yet was she as +lowly and simple of speech and demeanour as if she were a gooseherd +of fourteen winters. + +In the Hall was a goodly company, and all the leaders of the Folk +were therein, and Folk-might and the War-leader sitting in the midst +of those stone seats on the days. There then they agreed on the +whole ordering of the battle and the wending of the host, as shall be +told later on; and this matter was long a-doing, and when it was +done, men went to their places to sleep, for the night was well worn. + +But when men had departed and all was still, Folk-might, light-clad +and without a weapon, left the Hall and walked briskly toward the +nether end of the Vale. He passed by all the tents, the last whereof +were of the House of the Steer, and came to a place where was a great +rock rising straight up from the plain like sheaves of black staves +standing close together; and it was called Staff-stone, and tales of +the elves had been told concerning it, so that Stone-face had beheld +it gladly the day before. + +The moon was just shining into Shadowy Vale, and the grass was bright +wheresoever the shadows of the high cliffs were not, and the face of +Staff-stone shone bright grey as Folk-might came within sight of it, +and he beheld someone sitting at the base of the rock, and as he drew +nigher he saw that it was a woman, and knew her for the Bride; for he +had prayed her to abide him there that night, because it was nigh to +the tents of the House of the Steer; and his heart was glad as he +drew nigh to her. + +She sat quietly on a fragment of the black rock, clad as she had been +all day, in her glittering kirtle, but without hauberk or helm, a +wreath of wind-flowers about her head, her feet crossed over each +other, her hands laid palm uppermost in her lap. She moved not as he +drew nigh, but said in a gentle voice when he was close to her: + +'Chief of the Wolf, great warrior, thou wouldest speak with me; and +good it is that friends should talk together on the eve of battle, +when they may never meet alive again.' + +He said: 'My talk shall not be long; for thou and I both must sleep +to-night, since there is work to hand to-morrow. Now since, as thou +sayest, O fairest of women, we may never meet again alive, I ask thee +now at this hour, when we both live and are near to one another, to +suffer me to speak to thee of my love of thee and desire for thee. +Surely thou, who art the sweetest of all things the Gods and the +kindreds have made, wilt not gainsay me this?' + +She said very sweetly, yet smiling: 'Brother of my father's sons, +how can I gainsay thee thy speech? Nay, hast thou not said it? What +more canst thou add to it that will have fresh meaning to mine ears?' + +He said: 'Thou sayest sooth: might I then but kiss thine hand?' + +She said, no longer smiling: 'Yea surely, even so may all men do who +can be called my friends--and thou art much my friend.' + +He took her hand and kissed it, and held it thereafter; nor did she +draw it away. The moon shone brightly on them; but by its light he +could not see if she reddened, but he deemed that her face was +troubled. Then he said: 'It were better for me if I might kiss thy +face, and take thee in mine arms.' + +Then said she: 'This only shall a man do with me when I long to do +the like with him. And since thou art so much my friend, I will tell +thee that as for this longing, I have it not. Bethink thee what a +little while it is since the lack of another man's love grieved me +sorely.' + +'The time is short,' said Folk-might, 'if we tell up the hours +thereof; but in that short space have a many things betid.' + +She said: 'Dost thou know, canst thou guess, how sorely ashamed I +went amongst my people? I durst look no man in the face for the +aching of mine heart, which methought all might see through my face.' + +'I knew it well,' he said; 'yet of me wert thou not ashamed but a +little while ago, when thou didst tell me of thy grief.' + +She said: 'True it is; and thou wert kind to me. Thou didst become +a dear friend to me, methought.' + +'And wilt thou hurt a dear friend?' said he. + +'O no,' she said, 'if I might do otherwise. Yet how if I might not +choose? Shall there be no forgiveness for me then?' + +He answered nothing; and still he held her hand that strove not to be +gone from his, and she cast down her eyes. Then he spake in a while: + +'My friend, I have been thinking of thee and of me; and now hearken: +if thou wilt declare that thou feelest no sweetness embracing thine +heart when I say that I desire thee sorely, as now I say it; or when +I kiss thine hand, as now I kiss it; or when I pray thee to suffer me +to cast mine arms about thee and kiss thy face, as now I pray it: if +thou wilt say this, then will I take thee by the hand straightway, +and lead thee to the tents of the House of the Steer, and say +farewell to thee till the battle is over. Canst thou say this out of +the truth of thine heart?' + +She said: 'What then if I cannot say this word? What then?' + +But he answered nothing; and she sat still a little while, and then +arose and stood before him, looking him in the eyes, and said: + +'I cannot say it.' + +Then he caught her in his arms and strained her to him, and then +kissed her lips and her face again and again, and she strove not with +him. But at last she said: + +'Yet after all this shalt thou lead me back to my folk straight-way; +and when the battle is done, if both we are living, then shall we +speak more thereof.' + +So he took her hand and led her on toward the tents of the Steer, and +for a while he spake nought; for he doubted himself, what he should +say; but at last he spake: + +'Now is this better for me than if it had not been, whether I live or +whether I die. Yet thou hast not said that thou lovest me and +desirest me.' + +'Wilt thou compel me?' she said. 'To-night I may not say it. Who +shall say what words my lips shall fashion when we stand together +victorious in Silver-dale; then indeed may the time seem long from +now.' + +He said: 'Yea, true is that; yet once again I say that so measured +long and long is the time since first I saw thee in Burgdale before +thou knewest me. Yet now I will not bicker with thee, for be sure +that I am glad at heart. And lo you! our feet have brought us to the +tents of thy people. All good go with thee!' + +'And with thee, sweet friend,' she said. Then she lingered a little, +turning her head toward the tents, and then turned her face toward +him and laid her hand on his neck, and drew his head adown to her and +kissed his cheek, and therewith swiftly and lightly departed from +him. + +Now the night wore and the morning came; and Face-of-god was abroad +very early in the morning, as his custom was; and he washed the night +from off him in the Carles' Bath of the Shivering Flood, and then +went round through the encampment of the host, and saw none stirring +save here and there the last watchmen of the night. He spake with +one or two of these, and then went up to the head of the Vale, where +was the pass that led to Silver-dale; and there he saw the watch, and +spake with them, and they told him that none had as yet come forth +from the pass, and he bade them to blow the horn of warning to rouse +up the Host as soon as the messengers came thence. For forerunners +had been sent up the pass, and had been set to hold watch at divers +places therein to pass on the word from place to place. + +Thence went Face-of-god back toward the Hall; but when he was yet +some way from it, he saw a slender glittering warrior come forth from +the door thereof, who stood for a moment looking round about, and +then came lightly and swiftly toward him; and lo! it was the Sun- +beam, with a long hauberk over her kirtle falling below her knees, a +helm on her head and plated shoes on her feet. She came up to him, +and laid her hand to his cheek and the golden locks of his head (for +he was bare-headed), and said to him, smiling: + +'Gold-mane! thou badest me bear arms, and Folk-might also constrained +me thereto. Lo thou!' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Folk-might is wise then, even as I am; and +forsooth as thou art. For bethink thee if the bow drawn at a venture +should speed the eyeless shaft against thy breast, and send me forth +a wanderer from my Folk! For how could I bear the sight of the fair +Dale, and no hope to see thee again therein?' + +She said: 'The heart is light within me to-day. Deemest thou that +this is strange? Or dost thou call to mind that which thou spakest +the other day, that it was of no avail to stand in the Doom-ring of +the Folk and bear witness against ourselves? This will I not. This +is no light-mindedness that thou beholdest in me, but the valiancy +that the Fathers have set in mine heart. Deem not, O Gold-mane, fear +not, that we shall die before they dight the bride-bed for us.' + +He would have kissed her mouth, but she put him away with her hand, +and doffed her helm and laid it on the grass, and said: + +'This is not the last time that thou shalt kiss me, Gold-mane, my +dear; and yet I long for it as if it were, so high as the Fathers +have raised me up this morn above fear and sadness.' + +He said nought, but drew her to him, and wonder so moved him, that he +looked long and closely at her face before he kissed her; and +forsooth he could find no blemish in it: it was as if it were but +new come from the smithy of the Gods, and exceeding longing took hold +of him. But even as their lips met, from the head of the Vale came +the voice of the great horn; and it was answered straightway by the +watchers all down the tents; and presently arose the shouts of men +and the clash of weapons as folk armed themselves, and laughter +therewith, for most men were battle-merry, and the cries of women +shrilly-clear as they hastened about, busy over the morning meal +before the departure of the Host. But Face-of-god said softly, still +caressing the Sun-beam, and she him: + +'Thus then we depart from this Valley of the Shadows, but as thou +saidst when first we met therein, there shall be no sundering of thee +and me, but thou shalt go down with me to the battle.' + +And he led her by the hand into the Hall of the Wolf, and there they +ate a morsel, and thereafter Face-of-god tarried not, but busied +himself along with Folk-might and the other chieftains in arraying +the Host for departure. + + + +CHAPTER XLI. THE HOST DEPARTETH FROM SHADOWY VALE: THE FIRST DAY'S +JOURNEY + + + +It was about three hours before noon that the Host began to enter +into the pass out of Shadowy Vale by the river-side; and the women +and children, and men unfightworthy, stood on the higher ground at +the foot of the cliffs to see the Host wend on the way. Of these a +many were of the Woodlanders, who were now one folk with them of +Shadowy Vale. And all these had chosen to abide tidings in the Vale, +deeming that there was little danger therein, since that last +slaughter which Folk-might had made of the Dusky Men; albeit Face-of- +god had offered to send them all to Burgstead with two score and ten +men-at-arms to guard them by the way and to eke out the warders of +the Burg. + +Now the fighting-men of Shadowy Vale were two long hundreds lacking +five; of whom two score and ten were women, and three score and ten +lads under twenty winters; but the women, though you might scarce see +fairer of face and body, were doughty in arms, all good shooters in +the bow; and the swains were eager and light-foot, cragsmen of the +best, wont to scaling the cliffs of the Vale in search of the nests +of gerfalcons and such-like fowl, and swimming the strong streams of +the Shivering Flood; tough bodies and wiry, stronger than most grown +men, and as fearless as the best. + +The order of the Departure of the Host was this: + +The Woodlanders went first into the pass, and with them were two +score of the ripe Warriors of the Wolf. Then came of the kindreds of +Burgdale, the Men of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull; then the +Men of the Vine and the Sickle; then the Shepherd-folk; and lastly, +the Men of the Face led by Stone-face and Hall-face. With these went +another two score of the dwellers in Shadowy Vale, and the rest were +scattered up and down the bands of the Host to guide them into the +best paths and to make the way easier to them. Face-of-god was +sundered from his kindred, and went along with Folk-might in the +forefront of the Host, while his father the Alderman went as a simple +man-at-arms with his House in the rearward. The Sun-beam followed +her brother and Face-of-god amidst the Warriors of the Wolf, and with +her were Bow-may clad in the Alderman's gift, and Wood-father and his +children. Bow-may had caused her to doff her hauberk for that day, +whereon they looked to fall in with no foeman. As for the Bride, she +went with her kindred in all her war-gear; and the morning sun shone +in the gems of her apparel, and her jewelled feet fell like flowers +upon the deep grass of the upper Vale, and shone strange and bright +amongst the black stones of the pass. She bore a quiver at her back +and a shining yew bow in her hand, and went amongst the bowmen, for +she was a very deft archer. + +So fared they into the pass, leaving peace behind them, with all +their banners displayed, and the banner of the Red-mouthed Wolf went +with the Wolf and the Sun-burst in the forefront of their battle next +after the two captains. + +As for their road, the grassy space between the rock-wall and the +water was wide and smooth at first, and the cliffs rose up like +bundles of spear-shafts high and clear from the green grass with no +confused litter of fallen stones; so that the men strode on briskly, +their hearts high-raised and full of hope. And as they went, the +sweetness of song stirred in their souls, and at last Bow-may fell to +singing in a loud clear voice, and her cousin Wood-wise answered her, +and all the warriors of the Wolf who were in their band fell into the +song at the ending, and the sound of their melody went down the water +and reached the ears of those that were entering the pass, and of +those who were abiding till the way should be clear of them: and +this is some of what they sang: + + +Bow-may singeth: + +Hear ye never a voice come crying + Out from the waste where the winds fare wide? +'Sons of the Wolf, the days are dying, + And where in the clefts of the rocks do ye hide? + +'Into your hands hath the Sword been given, + Hard are the palms with the kiss of the hilt; +Through the trackless waste hath the road been riven + For the blade to seek to the heart of the guilt. + +'And yet ye bide and yet ye tarry; + Dear deem ye the sleep 'twixt hearth and board, +And sweet the maiden mouths ye marry, + And bright the blade of the bloodless sword.' + +Wood-wise singeth: + +Yea, here we dwell in the arms of our Mother + The Shadowy Queen, and the hope of the Waste; +Here first we came, when never another + Adown the rocky stair made haste. + +Far is the foe, and no sword beholdeth + What deed we work and whither we wend; +Dear are the days, and the Year enfoldeth + The love of our life from end to end. + +Voice of our Fathers, why will ye move us, + And call up the sun our swords to behold? +Why will ye cry on the foeman to prove us? + Why will ye stir up the heart of the bold? + +Bow-may singeth: + +Purblind am I, the voice of the chiding; + Then tell me what is the thing ye bear? +What is the gift that your hands are hiding, + The gold-adorned, the dread and dear? + +Wood-wise singeth: + +Dark in the sheath lies the Anvil's Brother, + Hid is the hammered Death of Men. +Would ye look on the gift of the green-clad Mother? + How then shall ye ask for a gift again? + +The Warriors sing: + +Show we the Sunlight the Gift of the Mother, + As foot follows foot to the foeman's den! +Gleam Sun, breathe Wind, on the Anvil's Brother, + For bare is the hammered Death of Men. + + +Therewith they shook their naked swords in the air, and fared on +eagerly, and as swiftly as the pass would have them fare. But so it +was, that when the rearward of the Host was entering the first of the +pass, and was going on the wide smooth sward, the vanward was gotten +to where there was but a narrow space clear betwixt water and cliff; +for otherwhere was a litter of great rocks and small, hard to be +threaded even by those who knew the passes well; so that men had to +tread along the very verge of the Shivering Flood, and wary must they +be, for the water ran swift and deep betwixt banks of sheer rock half +a fathom below their very foot-soles, which had but bare space to go +on the narrow a way. So it held on for a while, and then got safer, +and there was more space for going betwixt cliff and flood; albeit it +was toilsome enough, since for some way yet there was a drift of +stones to cumber their feet, some big and some little, and some very +big. After a while the way grew better, though here and there, where +the cliffs lowered, were wide screes of loose stones that they must +needs climb up and down. Thereafter for a space was there an end of +the stony cumber, but the way betwixt the river and the cliffs +narrowed again, and the black crags grew higher, and at last so +exceeding high, and the way so narrow, that the sky overhead was to +them as though they were at the bottom of a well, and men deemed that +thence they could see the stars at noontide. For some time withal +had the way been mounting up and up, though the cliffs grew higher +over it; till at last they were but going on a narrow shelf, the +Shivering Flood swirling and rattling far below them betwixt sheer +rock-walls grown exceeding high; and above them the cliffs going up +towards the heavens as black as a moonless starless night of winter. +And as the flood thundered below, so above them roared the ceaseless +thunder of the wind of the pass, that blew exceeding fierce down that +strait place; so that the skirts of their garments were wrapped about +their knees by it, and their feet were well-nigh stayed at whiles as +they breasted the push thereof. + +But as they mounted higher and higher yet, the noise of the waters +swelled into a huge roar that drowned the bellowing of the prisoned +wind, and down the pass came drifting a fine rain that fell not from +the sky, for between the clouds of that drift could folk see the +heavens bright and blue above them. This rain was but the spray of +the great force up to whose steps they were climbing. + +Now the way got rougher as they mounted; but this toil was caused by +their gain; for the rock-wall, which thrust out a buttress there as +if it would have gone to the very edge of the gap where-through the +flood ran, and so have cut the way off utterly, was here somewhat +broken down, and its stones scattered down the steep bent, so that +there was a passage, though a toilsome one. + +Thus then through the wind-borne drift of the great force, through +which men could see the white waters tossing down below, amidst the +clattering thunder of the Shivering Flood and the rumble of the wind +of the gap, that tore through their garments and hair as if it would +rend all to rags and bear it away, the banners of the Wolf won their +way to the crest of the midmost height of the pass, and the long line +of the Host came clambering after them; and each band of warriors as +it reached the top cast an unheard shout from amidst the tangled fury +of wind and waters. + +A little further on and all that turmoil was behind them; the sun, +now grown low, smote the wavering column of spray from the force at +their backs, till the rainbows lay bright across it; and the sunshine +lay wide over a little valley that sloped somewhat steeply to the +west right up from the edge of the river; and beyond these western +slopes could men see a low peak spreading down on all sides to the +plain, till it was like to a bossed shield, and the name of it was +Shield-broad. Dark grey was the valley everywhere, save that by the +side of the water was a space of bright green-sward hedged about +toward the mountain by a wall of rocks tossed up into wild shapes of +spires and jagged points. The river itself was spread out wide and +shallow, and went rattling about great grey rocks scattered here and +there amidst it, till it gathered itself together to tumble headlong +over three slant steps into the mighty gap below. + +From the height in the pass those grey slopes seemed easy to +traverse; but the warriors of the Wolf knew that it was far +otherwise, for they were but the molten rock-sea that in time long +past had flowed forth from Shield-broad and filled up the whole +valley endlong and overthwart, cooling as it flowed, and the tumbled +hedge of rock round about the green plain by the river was where the +said rock-sea had been stayed by meeting with soft ground, and had +heaped itself up round about the green-sward. And that great rock- +flood as it cooled split in divers fashions; and the rain and weather +had been busy on it for ages, so that it was worn into a maze of +narrow paths, most of which, after a little, brought the wayfarer to +a dead stop, or else led him back again to the place whence he had +started; so that only those who knew the passes throughly could +thread that maze without immeasurable labour. + +Now when the men of the Host looked from the high place whereon they +stood toward the green plain by the river, they saw on the top of +that rock-wall a red pennon waving on a spear, and beside it three or +four weaponed men gleaming bright in the evening sun; and they waved +their swords to the Host, and made lightning of the sunbeams, and the +men of the Host waved swords to them in turn. For these were the +outguards of the Host; and the place whereon they were was at whiles +dwelt in by those who would drive the spoil in Silver-dale, and +midmost of the green-sward was a booth builded of rough stones and +turf, a refuge for a score of men in rough weather. + +So the men of the vanward gat them down the hill, and made the best +of their way toward the grassy plain through that rocky maze which +had once been as a lake of molten glass; and as short as the way +looked from above, it was two hours or ever they came out of it on to +the smooth turf, and it was moonlight and night ere the House of the +Face had gotten on to the green-sward. + +There then the Host abode for that night, and after they had eaten +lay down on the green grass and slept as they might. Bow-may would +have brought the Sun-beam into the booth with some others of the +women, but she would not enter it, because she deemed that otherwise +the Bride would abide without; and the Bride, when she came up, along +with the House of the Steer, beheld the Sun-beam, that Wood-father's +children had made a lair for her without like a hare's form; and +forsooth many a time had she lain under the naked heaven in Shadowy +Vale and the waste about it, even as the Bride had in the meadows of +Burgdale. So when the Bride was bidden thereto, she went meekly into +the booth, and lay there with others of the damsels-at-arms. + + + +CHAPTER XLII. THE HOST COMETH TO THE EDGES OF SILVER-DALE + + + +So wore the night, and when the dawn was come were the two captains +afoot, and they went from band to band to see that all was ready, and +all men were astir betimes, and by the time that the sun smote the +eastern side of Shield-broad ruddy, they had broken their fast and +were dight for departure. Then the horns blew up beside the banners, +and rejoiced the hearts of men. But by the command of the captains +this was the last time that they should sound till they blew for +onset in Silver-dale, because now would they be drawing nigher and +nigher to the foemen, and they wotted not but that wandering bands of +them might be hard on the lips of the pass, and might hear the horns' +voice, and turn to see what was toward. + +Forth then went the banners of the Wolf, and the men of the vanward +fell to threading the rock-maze toward the north, and in two hours' +time were clear of the Dale under Shield-broad. All went in the same +order as yesterday; but on this day the Sun-beam would bear her +hauberk, and had a sword girt to her side, and her heart was high and +her speech merry. + +When they left the Dale under Shield-broad the way was easy and wide +for a good way, the river flowing betwixt low banks, and the pass +being more like a string of little valleys than a mere gap, as it had +been on the other side of the Dale. But when one third of the day +was past, the way began to narrow on them again, and to rise up +little by little; and at last the rock-walls drew close to the river, +and when men looked toward the north they saw no way, and nought but +a wall. For the gap of the Shivering Flood turned now to the east, +and the Flood came down from the east in many falls, as it were over +a fearful stair, through a gap where there was no path between the +cliffs and the water, nought but the boiling flood and its turmoil; +so that they who knew not the road wondered what they should do. + +But Folk-might led the banners to where a great buttress of the +cliffs thrust itself into the way, coming well-nigh down to the +water, just at the corner where the river turned eastward, and they +got them about it as they might, and on the other side thereof lo! +another gap exceeding strait, scarce twenty foot over, wall-sided, +rugged beyond measure, going up steeply from the great valley: a +little water ran through it, mostly filling up the floor of it from +side to side; but it was but shallow. This was now the battle-road +of the Host, and the vanward entered it at once, turning their backs +upon the Shivering Flood. + +Full toilsome and dreary was that strait way; often great stones hung +above their heads, bridging the gap and hiding the sky from them; nor +was there any path for them save the stream itself; so that whiles +were they wading its waters to the knee or higher, and whiles were +they striding from stone to stone amidst the rattle of the waters, +and whiles were they stepping warily along the ledges of rock above +the deeper pools, and in all wise labouring in overcoming the rugged +road amidst the twilight of the gap. + +Thus they toiled till the afternoon was well worn, and so at last +they came to where the rock-wall was somewhat broken down on the +north side, and great rocks had fallen across the gap, and dammed up +the waters, which fell scantily over the dam from stone to stone into +a pool at the bottom of it. Up this breach, then, below the force +they scrambled and struggled, for rough indeed was the road for them; +and so came they up out of the gap on to the open hill-side, a great +shoulder of the heath sloping down from the north, and littered over +with big stones, borne thither belike by some ice-river of the +earlier days; and one great rock was in special as great as the hall +of a wealthy goodman, and shapen like to a hall with hipped gables, +which same the men of the Wolf called House-stone. + +There then the noise and clatter of the vanward rose up on the face +of the heath, and men were exceeding joyous that they had come so far +without mishap. Therewith came weaponed men out from under House- +stone, and they came toward the men of the vanward, and they were a +half-score of the forerunners of the Wolf; therefore Folk-might and +Face-of-god fell at once into speech with them, and had their +tidings; and when they had heard them, they saw nought to hinder the +host from going on their road to Silver-dale forthright; and there +were still three hours of daylight before them. So the vanward of +the host tarried not, and the captains left word with the men from +under House-stone that the rest of the Host should fare on after them +speedily, and that they should give this word to each company, as men +came up from out the gap. Then they fared speedily up the hillside, +and in an hour's wearing had come to the crest thereof, and to where +the ground fell steadily toward the north, and hereabout the +scattered stones ceased, and on the other side of the crest the heath +began to be soft and boggy, and at last so soft, that if they had not +been wisely led, they had been bemired oftentimes. At last they came +to where the flows that trickled through the mires drew together into +a stream, so that men could see it running; and thereon some of the +Woodlanders cried out joyously that the waters were running north; +and then all knew that they were drawing nigh to Silver-dale. + +No man they met on the road, nor did they of Shadowy Vale look to +meet any; because the Dusky Men were not great hunters for the more +part, except it were of men, and especially of women; and, moreover, +these hill-slopes of the mountain-necks led no-whither and were +utterly waste and dreary, and there was nought to be seen there but +snipes and bitterns and whimbrel and plover, and here and there a +hill-fox, or the great erne hanging over the heath on his way to the +mountain. + +When sunset came, they were getting clear of the miry ground, and the +stream which they had come across amidst of the mires had got clearer +and greater, and rattled down between wide stony sides over the +heath; and here and there it deepened as it cleft its way through +little knolls that rose out of the face of the mountain-neck. As the +Host climbed one of these and was come to its topmost (it was low +enough not to turn the stream), Face-of-god looked and beheld dark- +blue mountains rising up far off before him, and higher than these, +but away to the east, the snowy peaks of the World-mountains. Then +he called to mind what he had seen from the Burg of the Runaways, and +he took Folk-might by the arm, and pointed toward those far-off +mountains. + +'Yea,' said Folk-might, 'so it is, War-leader. Silver-dale lieth +between us and yonder blue ridges, and it is far nigher to us than to +them.' + +But the Sun-beam came close to those twain, and took Face-of-god by +the hand and said: 'O Gold-mane, dost thou see?' and he turned about +and beheld her, and saw how her cheeks flamed and her eyes glittered, +and he said in a low voice: 'To-morrow for mirth or silence, for +life or death.' + +But the whole vanward as they came up stayed to behold the sight of +the mountains on the other side of Silver-dale, and the banners of +the Folk hung over their heads, moving but little in the soft air of +the evening: so went they on their ways. + +The sun sank, and dusk came on them as they followed down the stream, +and night came, and was clear and starlit, though the moon was not +yet risen. Now was the ground firm and the grass sweet and flowery, +and wind-worn bushes were scattered round about them, as they began +to go down into the ghyll that cleft the wall of Silver-dale, and the +night-wind blew in their faces from the very Dale and place of the +Battle to be. The path down was steep at first, but the ghyll was +wide, and the sides of it no longer straight walls, as in the gaps of +their earlier journey, but broken, sloping back, and (as they might +see on the morrow) partly of big stones and shaly grit, partly grown +over with bushes and rough grass, with here and there a little stream +trickling down their sides. As they went, the ghyll widened out, +till at last they were in a valley going down to the plain, in places +steep, in places flat and smooth, the stream ever rattling down the +midst of it, and they on the west side thereof. The vale was well +grassed, and oak-trees and ash and holly and hazel grew here and +there about it; and at last the Host had before it a wood which +filled the vale from side to side, not much tangled with undergrowth, +and quite clear of it nigh to the stream-side. Thereinto the vanward +entered, but went no long way ere the leaders called a halt and bade +pitch the banners, for that there should they abide the daylight. +Thus it had been determined at the Council of the Hall of the Wolf; +for Folk-might had said: 'With an Host as great as ours, and mostly +of men come into a land of which they know nought at all, an +onslaught by night is perilous: yea, and our foes should be over- +much scattered, and we should have to wander about seeking them. Let +us rather abide in the wood of Wood-dale till the morning, and then +display our banners on the hill-side above Silver-dale, so that they +may gather together to fall upon us: in no case shall they keep us +out of the Dale.' + +There then they stayed, and as each company came up to the wood, they +were marshalled into their due places, so that they might set the +battle in array on the edge of Silver-dale, + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. FACE-OF-GOD LOOKETH ON SILVER-DALE: THE BOWMEN'S +BATTLE + + + +There then they rested, as folk wearied with the toilsome journey, +when they had set sure watches round about their campment; and they +ate quietly what meat they had with them, and so gat them to sleep in +the wood on the eve of battle. + +But not all slept; for the two captains went about amongst the +companies, Folk-might to the east, Face-of-god to the west, to look +to the watches, and to see that all was ordered duly. Also the Sun- +beam slept not, but she lay beside Bow-may at the foot of an oak- +tree; she watched Face-of-god as he went away amidst the men of the +Host, and watched and waked abiding his returning footsteps. + +The night was well worn by then he came back to his place in the +vanward, and on his way back he passed through the folk of the Steer +laid along on the grass, all save those of the watch, and the light +of the moon high aloft was mingled with the light of the earliest +dawn; and as it happed he looked down, and lo! close to his feet the +face of the Bride as she lay beside her grand-sire, her head pillowed +on a bundle of bracken. She was sleeping soundly like a child who +has been playing all day, and whose sleep has come to him unsought +and happily. Her hands were laid together by her side; her cheek was +as fair and clear as it was wont to be at her best; her face looked +calm and happy, and a lock of her dark-red hair strayed from her +uncovered head over her breast and lay across her wrists, so +peacefully she slept. + +Face-of-god turned his eyes from her at once, and went by swiftly, +and came to his own company. The Sun-beam saw him coming, and rose +straightway to her feet from beside Bow-may, who lay fast asleep, and +she held out her hands to him; and he took them and kissed them, and +he cast his arms about her and kissed her mouth and her face, and she +his in likewise; and she said: + +'O Gold-mane, if this were but the morrow of to-morrow! Yet shall +all be well; shall it not?' + +Her voice was low, but it waked Bow-may, who sat up at once broad +awake, after the manner of a hunter of the waste ever ready for the +next thing to betide, and moreover the Sun-beam had been in her +thoughts these two days, and she feared for her, lest she should be +slain or maimed. Now she smiled on the Sun-beam and said: + +'What is it? Does thy mind forebode evil? That needeth not. I tell +thee it is not so ill for us of the sword to be in Silver-dale. +Thrice have I been there since the Overthrow, and never more than a +half-score in company, and yet am I whole to-day.' + +'Yea, sister,' said Face-of-god, 'but in past times ye did your deed +and then fled away; but now we come to abide here, and this night is +the last of lurking.' + +'Ah,' she said, 'a little way from this I saw such things that we had +good will to abide here longer, few as we were, but that we feared to +be taken alive.' + +'What things were these?' said Face-of-god. + +'Nay,' she said, 'I will not tell thee now; but mayhap in the lighted +winter feast-hall, when the kindred are so nigh us and about us that +they seem to us as if they were all the world, I may tell it thee; or +mayhap I never shall.' + +Said the Sun-beam, smiling: 'Thou wilt ever be talking, Bow-may. +Now let the War-leader depart, for he will have much to do.' + +And she was well at ease that she had seen Face-of-god again; but he +said: + +'Nay, not so much; all is well-nigh done; in an hour it will be broad +day, and two hours thereafter shall the Banner be displayed on the +edge of Silver-dale.' + +The cheek of the Sun-beam flushed, and paled again, as she said: +'Yea, we shall stand even as our Fathers stood on the day when, +coming from off the waste, they beheld it, and knew it would be +theirs. Ah me! how have I longed for this morn. But now--Tell me, +Gold-mane, dost thou deem that I am afraid? And I whom thou hast +deemed to be a God.' + +Quoth Bow-may: 'Thou shalt deem her twice a God ere noon-tide, +brother Gold-mane. But come now! the hour of deadly battle is at +hand, and we may not laugh that away; and therefore I bid thee +remember, Gold-mane, how thou didst promise to kiss me once more on +the verge of deadly battle.' + +Therewith she stood up before him, and he tarried not, but kind and +smiling took her face between his two hands and kissed her lips, and +she cast her arms about him and kissed him, and then sank down on the +grass again, and turned from him, and laid her face amongst the grass +and the bracken, and they could see that she was weeping, and her +body was shaken with sobs. But the Sun-beam knelt down to her, and +caressed her with her hand, and spake kind words to her softly, while +Face-of-god went his ways to meet Folk-might. + +Now was the dawn fading into full daylight; and between dawn and +sunrise were all men stirring; for the watch had waked the hundred- +leaders, and they the leaders of scores and half-scores, and they the +whole folk; and they sat quietly in the wood and made no noise. + +In the night the watch of the Sickle had fallen in with a thrall who +had stolen up from the Dale to set gins for hares, and now in the +early morning they brought him to the War-leader. He was even such a +man as those with whom Face-of-god had fallen in before, neither +better nor worse than most of them: he was sore afraid at first, but +by then he was come to the captains he understood that he had +happened upon friends; but he was dull of comprehension and slow of +speech. Albeit Folk-might gathered from him that the Dusky Men had +some inkling of the onslaught; for he said that they had been +gathering together in the marketplace of Silver-stead, and would do +so again soon. Moreover, the captains deemed from his speech that +those new tribes had come to hand sooner than was looked for, and +were even now in the Dale. Folk-might smiled as one who is not best +pleased when he heard these tidings; but Face-of-god was glad to hear +thereof; for what he loathed most was that the war should drag out in +hunting of scattered bands of the foe. Herewith came Dallach to them +as they talked (for Face-of-god had sent for him), and he fell to +questioning the man further; by whose answers it seemed that many men +also had come into the Dale from Rose-dale, so that they of the +kindreds were like to have their hands full. Lastly Dallach drew +from the thrall that it was on that very morning that the great Folk- +mote of the Dusky Men should be holden in the market-place of the +Stead, which was right great, and about it were the biggest of the +houses wherein the men of the kindred had once dwelt. + +So when they had made an end of questioning the thrall, and had given +him meat and drink, they asked him if he would take weapons in his +hand and lead them on the ways into the Dale, bidding him look about +the wood and note how great and mighty an host they were. And the +carle yeasaid this, after staring about him a while, and they gave +him spear and shield, and he went with the vanward as a way-leader. + +Again presently came a watch of the Shepherds, and they had found a +man and a woman dead and stark naked hanging to the boughs of a great +oak-tree deep in the wood. This men knew for some vengeance of the +Dusky Men, for it was clear to see that these poor people had been +sorely tormented before they were slain. Also the same watch had +stumbled on the dead body of an old woman, clad in rags, lying +amongst the rank grass about a little flow; she was exceeding lean +and hunger-starved, and in her hand was a frog which she had half +eaten. And Dallach, when he heard of this, said that it was the wont +of the Dusky Men to slay their thralls when they were past work, or +to drive them into the wilderness to die. + +Lastly came a watch from the men of the Face, having with them two +more thralls, lusty young men; these they had come upon in company of +their master, who had brought them up into the wood to shoot him a +buck, and therefore they bare bows and arrows. The watch had slain +the master straightway while the thralls stood looking on. They were +much afraid of the weaponed men, but answered to the questioning much +readier than the first man; for they were household thralls, and +better fed and clad than he, who was but a toiler in the fields. +They yeasaid all his tale, and said moreover that the Folk-mote of +the Dusky Men should be holden in the market-place that forenoon, and +that most of the warriors should be there, both the new-comers and +the Rose-dale lords, and that without doubt they should be under +arms. + +To these men also they gave a good sword and a helm each, and bade +them be brisk with their bows, and they said yea to marching with the +Host; and indeed they feared nothing so much as being left behind; +for if they fell into the hands of the Dusky Men, and their master +missing, they should first be questioned with torments, and then +slain in the evillest manner. + +Now whereas things had thus betid, and that they knew thus much of +their foemen, Face-of-god called all the chieftains together, and +they sat on the green grass and held counsel amongst them, and to one +and all it seemed good that they should suffer the Dusky Men to +gather together before they meddled with them, and then fall upon +them in such order and such time as should seem good to the captains +watching how things went; and this would be easy, whereas they were +all lying in the wood in the same order as they would stand in +battle-array if they were all drawn up together on the brow of the +hill. Albeit Face-of-god deemed it good, after he had heard all that +they who had been in the Stead could tell him thereof, that the +Shepherd-Folk, who were more than three long hundreds, and they of +the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull, four hundreds in all, should +take their places eastward of the Woodlanders who had led the +vanward. + +Straightway the word was borne to these men, and the shift was made: +so that presently the Woodlanders were amidmost of the Host, and had +with them on their right hands the Men of the Steer, the Bridge, and +the Bull, and beyond them the Shepherd-Folk. But on their left hand +lay the Men of the Vine, then they of the Sickle, and lastly the Men +of the Face, and these three kindreds were over five hundreds of +warriors: as for the Men of the Wolf, they abode at first with those +companies which they had led through the wastes, though this was +changed afterwards. + +All this being done, Face-of-god gave out that all men should break +their fast in peace and leisure; and while men were at their meat, +Folk-might spake to Face-of-god and said: 'Come, brother, for I +would show thee a goodly thing; and thou, Dallach, come with us.' + +Then he brought them by paths in the wood till Face-of-god saw the +sky shine white between the tree-boles, and in a little while they +were come well-nigh out of the thicket, and then they went warily; +for before them was nought but the slopes of Wood-dale, going down +steeply into Silver-dale, with nought to hinder the sight of it, save +here and there bushes or scattered trees; and so fair and lovely it +was that Face-of-god could scarce forbear to cry out. He saw that it +was only at the upper or eastern end, where the mountains of the +Waste went round about it, that the Dale was narrow; it soon widened +out toward the west, and for the most part was encompassed by no such +straight-sided a wall as was Burgdale, but by sloping hills and +bents, mostly indeed somewhat higher and steeper than the pass +wherein they were, but such as men could well climb if they had a +mind to, and there were any end to their journey. The Dale went due +west a good way, and then winded about to the southwest, and so was +hidden from them thereaway by the bents that lay on their left hand. +As it was wider, so it was not so plain a ground as was Burgdale, but +rose in knolls and little hills here and there. A river greater than +the Weltering Water wound about amongst the said mounds; and along +the side of it out in the open dale were many goodly houses and +homesteads of stone. The knolls were mostly covered over with vines, +and there were goodly and great trees in groves and clumps, chiefly +oak and sweet chestnut and linden; many were the orchards, now in +blossom, about the homesteads; the pastures of the neat and horses +spread out bright green up from the water-side, and deeper green +showed the acres of the wheat on the lower slopes of the knolls, and +in wide fields away from the river. + +Just below the pitch of the hill whereon they were, lay Silver-stead, +the town of the Dale. Hitherto it had been an unfenced place; but +Folk-might pointed to where on the western side a new white wall was +rising, and on which, young as the day yet was, men were busy laying +the stones and spreading the mortar. Fair seemed that town to Face- +of-god: the houses were all builded of stone, and some of the +biggest were roofed with lead, which also as well as silver was dug +out of the mountains at the eastern end of the Dale. The market- +place was clear to see from where they stood, though there were +houses on all sides of it, so wide it was. From their standing-place +it was but three furlongs to this heart of Silver-dale; and Face-of- +god could see brightly-clad men moving about in it already. High +above their heads he beheld two great clots of scarlet and yellow +raised on poles and pitched in front of a great stone-built hall +roofed with lead, which stood amidmost of the west end of the Place, +and betwixt those poles he saw on a mound with long slopes at its +sides somewhat of white stone, and amidmost of the whole Place a +great stack of faggot-wood built up four-square. Those red and +yellow things on the poles he deemed would be the banners of the +murder-carles; and Folk-might told him that even so it was, and that +they were but big bunches of strips of woollen cloth, much like to +great ragmops, save that the rags were larger and longer: no other +token of war, said Folk-might, did those folk carry, save a +crookbladed sword, smeared with man's blood, and bigger than any man +might wield in battle. + +'Art thou far-seeing, War-leader?' quoth he. 'What canst thou see in +the market-place?' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Far-seeing am I above most men, and I see in the +Place a man in scarlet standing by the banner, which is pitched in +front of the great stone hall, near to the mound with the white stone +on it; and meseemeth he beareth a great horn in his hand.' + +Said Folk-might: 'Yea, and that stone hall was our Mote-house when +we were lords of the Dale, and thence it was that they who are now +thralls of the Dusky Men sent to them their message and token of +yielding. And as for that white stone, it is the altar of their god; +for they have but one, and he is that same crook-bladed sword. And +now that I look, I see a great stack of wood amidmost the market- +place, and well I know what that betokeneth.' + +'Lo you!' said Face-of-god, 'the man with the horn is gone up on to +the altar-mound, and meseemeth he is setting the little end of the +horn to his mouth.' + +'Hearken then!' said Folk-might. And in a moment came the hoarse +tuneless sound of the horn down the wind towards them; and Folk-might +said: + +'I deem I should know what that blast meaneth; and now is it time +that the Host drew nigher to set them in array behind these very +trees. But if ye will, War-leader, we will abide here and watch the +ways of the foemen, and send Dallach with the word to the Host; also +I would have thee suffer me to bid hither at once two score and ten +of the best of the bowmen of our folk and the Woodlanders, and Wood- +wise to lead them, for he knoweth well the land hereabout, and what +is good to do.' + +'It is good,' said Face-of-god. 'Be speedy, Dallach!' + +So Dallach departed, running lightly, and the two chiefs abode there; +and the horn in Silver-stead blew at whiles for a little, and then +stayed; and Folk-might said: + +'Lo you! they come flockmeal to the Mote-stead; the Place will be +filled ere long.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Will they make offerings to their god at the +hallowing in of their Folk-mote? Where then are the slaughter- +beasts?' + +'They shall not long be lacking,' said Folk-might. 'See you it is +getting thronged about the altar and the Mote-house.' + +Now there were four ways into the Market-place of Silver-stead turned +toward the four airts, and the midmost of the kindreds' battle looked +right down the southern one, which went up to the wood, but stopped +there in a mere woodland path, and the more part of the town lay +north and west of this way, albeit there was a way from the east +also. But the hill-side just below the two captains lay two furlongs +west of this southern way; and it went down softly till it was gotten +quite near to the backs of the houses on the south side of the +Market-place, and was sprinkled scantly with bushes and trees as +aforesaid; but at last were there more bushes, which well-nigh made a +hedge across it, reaching from the side of the southern way; and a +foot or two beyond these bushes the ground fell by a steep and broken +bent down to the level of the Market-place, and betwixt that fringe +of bushes and the backs of the houses on the south side of the Place +was less it maybe than a full furlong: but the southern road +aforesaid went down softly into the Market-place, since it had been +fashioned so by men. + +Now the two chiefs heard a loud blast of horns come up from the town, +and lo! a great crowd of men wending their ways down the road from +the north, and they came into the market-place with spears and other +weapons tossing in the air, and amidst of these men, who seemed to be +all of the warriors, they saw as they drew nigher some two score and +ten of men clad in long raiment of yellow and scarlet, with tall +spiring hats of strange fashion on their heads, and in their hands +long staves with great blades like scythes done on to them; and +again, in the midst of these yellow and red glaive-bearers, in the +very heart of the throng were some score of naked folk, they deemed +both men and women, but were not sure, so close was the throng; nor +could they see if they were utterly naked. + +'Lo you, brother!' quoth Folk-might, 'said I not that the beasts for +the hewing should not tarry? Yonder naked folk are even they: and +ye may well deem that they are the thralls of the Dusky Men; and +meseemeth by the whiteness of their skins they be of the best of +them. For these felons, it is like, look to winning great plenty of +thralls in Burgdale, and so set the less store on them they have, and +may expend them freely.' + +As he spake they heard the sound of men marching in the wood behind +them, and they turned about and saw that there was come Wood-wise, +and with him upwards of two score and ten of the bowmen of the +Woodlanders and the Wolf--huntsmen, cragsmen, and scourers of the +Waste; men who could shoot the chaffinch on the twig a hundred yards +aloof; who could make a hiding-place of the bennets of the wayside +grass, or the stem of the slender birch-tree. With these must needs +be Bow-may, who was the closest shooter of all the kindreds. + +So then Wood-wise told the War-leader that Dallach had given the word +to the Host, and that all men were astir and would be there presently +in their ordered companies; and Face-of-god spake to Folk-might, and +said: 'Chief of the Wolf, wilt thou not give command to these +bowmen, and set them to the work; for thou wottest thereof.' + +'Yea, that will I,' said Folk-might, and turned to Wood-wise, and +said: 'Wood-wise, get ye down the slope, and loose on these felons, +who have a murder on hand, if so be ye have a chance to do it wisely. +But in any case come ye all back; for all shall be needed yet to-day. +So flee if they pursue, for ye shall have us to flee to. Now be ye +wary, nor let the curse of the Wolf and the Face lie on your +slothfulness.' + +Wood-wise did but nod his head and lift his hand to his fellows, who +set off after him down the slope without more tarrying. They went +very warily, as if they were hunting a quarry which would flee from +them; and they crept amongst the grass and stones from bush to bush +like serpents, and so, unseen by the Dusky Men, who indeed were +busied over their own matters, they came to the fringe of bushes +above the broken ground aforesaid, and there they took their stand, +and before them below those steep banks was but the space at the back +of the houses. As to the houses, as aforesaid, they were not so high +as elsewhere about the Market-place; and at the end of a long low +hall there was a gap between its gable and the next house, whereby +they had a clear sight of the Place about the god's altar and the +banners, and the great hall of Silver-dale, with the double stair +that went up to the door thereof. + +There then they made them ready, and Wood-wise set men to watch that +none should come sidelong on them unawares; their bows were bent and +their quivers open, and they were eager for the fray. + +Thus they beheld the Market-place from their cover, and saw that +those folk who were to be hewn to the god were now standing facing +the altar in a half-ring, and behind them in another half-ring the +glaive-bearers who had brought them thither stood glaive in hand +ready to hew them down when the token should be given; and these were +indeed the priests of the god. + +There was clear space round about these poor slaughter-thralls, so +that the bowmen could see them well, and they told up a score of +them, half men, half women, and they were all stark naked save for +wreaths of flowers about their middles and their necks; and they had +shackles of lead about their wrists; which same lead should be taken +out of the fire wherein they should be burned, and from the shape it +should take after it had passed through the fire would the priests +foretell the luck of the deed to be done. + +It was clear to be seen from thence that Folk-might was right when he +said that these slaughter-thralls were of the best of the house- +thralls and bed-mates of the Dusky Men, and that these felons were +open-handed to their god, and would not cheat him, or withhold from +him the best and most delicate of all they had. + +Now spake Wood-wise to those about him: 'It is sure that Folk-might +would have us give these poor thralls a chance, and that we must +loose upon the felons who would hew them down; and if we are to come +back again, we can go no nigher. What sayest thou, Bow-may? Is it +nigh enough? Can aught be done?' + +'Yea, yea,' she said, 'nigh enough it is; but let Gold-ring be with +me and half a score of the very best, whether they be of our folk or +the Woodlanders, men who cannot miss such a mark; and when we have +loosed, then let all loose, and stay not till our shot be spent. +Haste, now haste! time presseth; for if the Host showeth on the brow +of the hill, these felons will hew down their slaughter-beasts before +they turn on their foemen. Let the grey-goose wing speed trouble and +confusion amongst them.' + +But ere she had done her words Wood-wise had got to speaking quietly +with the Woodlanders; and Bears-bane, who was amidst them, chose out +eight of the best of his folk, men who doubted nothing of hitting +whatever they could see in the Market-place; and they took their +stand for shooting, and with them besides Bow-may were two women and +four men of the Wolf, and Gold-ring withal, a carle of fifty winters, +long, lean, and wiry, a fell shooter if ever anyone were. + +So all these notched their shafts and laid them on the yew, and each +had between the two last fingers of the shaft-hand another shaft +ready, and a half score more stuck into the ground before him. + +Now giveth Wood-wise the word to these sixteen as to which of the +felons with the glaives they shall each one aim at; and he saith +withal in a soft voice: 'Help cometh from the Hill; soon shall +battle be joined in Silver-dale.' + +Thus stand they watching Bow-may and Gold-ring till they draw home +the notches; and amidst their waiting the glaive-bearing felons fall +a-singing a harsh and ugly hymn to their crooked-sword god, and the +Market-stead is thronged endlong and overthwart with the tribes of +the Dusky Men. + +There now standeth Bow-may far-sighted and keen-eyed, her face as +pale as a linen sleeve, an awful smile on her glittering eyes and +close-set lips, and she feeling the twisted string of the red yew and +the polished sides of the notch, while the yelling song of the Dusky +priests quavers now and ends with a wild shrill cry, and she noteth +the midmost of the priests beginning to handle his weapon: then +swift and steady she draweth home the notches, while the yew bow +standeth still as the oak-bole ere the summer storm ariseth, and the +twang of the sixteen strings maketh but one fell sound as the +feathered bane of men goeth on its way. + +There was silence for a moment of time in the Market of Silver-stead, +as if the bolt of the Gods had fallen there; and then arose a huge +wordless yell from those about the altar, and one of the priests who +was left hove up his glaive two-handed to smite the naked slaughter- +thralls; but or ever the stroke fell, Bow-may's second shaft was +through his throat, and he rolled over amidst his dead fellows; and +the other fifteen had loosed with her, and then even as they could +Wood-wise and the others of their company; and all they notched and +loosed without tarrying, and no shout, no word came from their lips, +only the twanging strings spake for them; for they deemed the minutes +that hurried by were worth much joy of their lives to be. And few +indeed were the passing minutes ere the dead men lay in heaps about +the Altar of the Crooked Sword, and the wounded men wallowed amidst +them. + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. OF THE ONSLAUGHT OF THE MEN OF THE STEER, THE BRIDGE, +AND THE BULL + + + +Wild was the turmoil and confusion in the Market-stead; for the more +part of the men therein knew not what had befallen about the altar, +though some clomb up to the top of that stack of faggots built for +the burning of the thralls, and when they saw what was toward fell to +yelling and cursing; and their fellows on the plain Place could not +hear their story for the clamour, and they also fell to howling as if +a wood full of wild dogs was there. + +And still the shafts rained down on that throng from the Bent of the +Bowmen, for another two score men of the Woodlanders had crept down +the hill to them, and shafts failed them not. But the Dusky Men +about the altar, for all their terror, or even maybe because of it, +now began to turn upon the scarce-seen foemen, and to press up wildly +toward the hill-side, though as it were without any order or aim. +Every man of them had his weapons, and those no mere gilded toys, but +their very tools of battle; and some, but no great number, had their +bows with them and a few shafts; and these began to shoot at +whatsoever they could see on the hill-side, but at first so wildly +and hurriedly that they did no harm. + +It must be said of them that at first only those about the altar fell +on toward the hill; for those about the road that led southward knew +not what had betided nor whither to turn. So that at this beginning +of the battle, of all the thousands in the great Place it was but a +few hundreds that set on the Bent of the Bowmen, and at these the +bowmen of the kindreds shot so close and so wholly together that they +fell one over another in the narrow ways between the houses whereby +they must needs go to gather on the plain ground betwixt the backs of +the houses and the break of the hill-side. But little by little the +archers of the Dusky Men gathered behind the corpses of the slain, +and fell to shooting at what they could see of the men of the +kindreds, which at that while was not much, for as bold as they were, +they fought like wary hunters of the Wood and the Waste. + +But now at last throughout all that throng of Felons in the Market- +place the tale began to spread of foemen come into the Dale and +shooting from the Bents, and all they turned their faces to the hill, +and the whole set of the throng was thitherward; though they fared +but slowly, so evil was the order of them, each man hindering his +neighbour as he went. And not only did the Dusky Men come flockmeal +toward the Bent of the Bowmen, but also they jostled along toward the +road that led southward. That beheld Wood-wise from the Bent, and he +was minded to get him and his aback, now that they had made so great +a slaughter of the foemen; and two or three of his fellows had been +hurt by arrows, and Bow-may, she would have been slain thrice over +but for the hammer-work of the Alderman. And no marvel was that; for +now she stood on a little mound not half covered by a thin thorn- +bush, and notched and loosed at whatever was most notable, as though +she were shooting at the mark on a summer evening in Shadowy Vale. +But as Wood-wise was at point to give the word to depart, from behind +them rang out the merry sound of the Burgdale horns, and he turned to +look at the wood-side, and lo! thereunder was the hill bright and +dark with men-at-arms, and over them floated the Banners of the Wolf, +and the Banners of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull. Then gave +forth the bowmen of the kindreds their first shout, and they made no +stay in their shooting; but shot the eagerer, for they deemed that +help would come without their turning about to draw it to them: and +even so it was. For straightway down the bent came striding Face-of- +god betwixt the two Banners of the Wolf, and beside him were Red-wolf +the tall and War-grove, and therewithal Wood-wont and Wood-wicked, +and many other men of the Wolf; for now that the men of the kindreds +had been brought face to face with the foe, and there was less need +of them for way-leaders, the more part of them were liefer to fight +under their own banner along with the Woodlanders; so that the +company of those who went under the Wolves was more than three long +hundreds and a half; and the bowmen on the edge of the bent shouted +again and merrily, when they felt that their brothers were amongst +them, and presently was the arrow-storm at its fiercest, and the +twanging of bow-strings and the whistle of the shafts was as the wind +among the clefts of the mountains; for all the new-comers were bowmen +of the best. + +But the kindreds of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull, they hung +yet a while longer on the hills' brow, their banners floating over +them and their horns blowing; and the Dusky Felons in the Market- +place beheld them, and fear and rage at once filled their hearts, and +a fierce and dreadful yell brake out from them, and joyously did the +Men of Burgdale answer them, and song arose amongst them even such as +this: + + +The Men of the Bridge sing: + +Why stand ye together, why bear ye the shield, +Now the calf straineth tether at edge of the field? + +Now the lamb bleateth stronger and waters run clear, +And the day groweth longer and glad is the year? + +Now the mead-flowers jostle so thick as they stand, +And singeth the throstle all over the land? + +The Men of the Steer sing: + +No cloud the day darkened, no thunder we heard, +But the horns' speech we hearkened as men unafeared. + +Yea, so merry it sounded, we turned from the Dale, +Where all wealth abounded, to wot of its tale. + +The Men of the Bridge sing: + +What white boles then bear ye, what wealth of the woods? +What chafferers hear ye bid loud for your goods? + +The Men of the Bull sing: + +O the bright beams we carry are stems of the steel; +Nor long shall we tarry across them to deal. + +Hark the men of the cheaping, how loudly they cry +On the hook for the reaping of men doomed to die! + +They all sing: + +Heave spear up! fare forward, O Men of the Dale! +For the Warrior, our war-ward, shall hearken the tale. + + +Therewith they ceased a moment, and then gave a great and hearty +shout all together, and all their horns blew, and they moved on down +the hill as one man, slowly and with no jostling, the spear-men +first, and then they of the axe and the sword; and on their flanks +the deft archers loosed on the stumbling jostling throng of the Dusky +Men, who for their part came on drifting and surging up the road to +the hill. + +But when those big spearmen of the Dale had gone a little way the +horns' voice died out, and their great-staved spears rose up from +their shoulders into the air, and stood so a moment, and then slowly +fell forward, as the oars of the longship fall into the row-locks, +and then over the shoulders of the foremost men showed the steel of +the five ranks behind them, and their own spears cast long bars of +shadow on the whiteness of the sunny road. No sound came from them +now save the rattle of their armour and the tramp of their steady +feet; but from the Dusky Men rose up hideous confused yelling, and +those that could free themselves from the tangle of the throng rushed +desperately against the on-rolling hedge of steel, and the whole +throng shoved on behind them. Then met steel and men; here and there +an ash-stave broke; here and there a Dusky Felon rolled himself +unhurt under the ash-staves, and hewed the knees of the Dalesmen, and +a tall man came tottering down; but what men or wood-wights could +endure the push of spears of those mighty husbandmen? The Dusky Ones +shrunk back yelling, or turned their backs and rushed at their own +folk with such fierce agony that they entered into the throng, till +the terror of the spear reached to the midmost of it and swayed them +back on the hindermost; for neither was there outgate for the felons +on the flanks of the spearmen, since there the feathered death beset +them, and the bowmen (and the Bride amongst the foremost) shot wholly +together, and no shaft flew idly. But the wise leaders of the +Dalesmen would not that they should thrust in too far amongst the +howling throng of the Dusky Men, lest they should be hemmed in by +them; for they were but a handful in regard to them: so there they +stayed, barring the way to the Dusky Men, and the bowmen still loosed +from the flanks of them, or aimed deftly from betwixt the ranks of +the spearmen. + +And now was there a space of ten strides or more betwixt the Dalesmen +and their foes, over which the spears hung terribly, nor durst the +Dusky Men adventure there; and thereon was nought but men dead or +sorely hurt. Then suddenly a horn rang thrice shrilly over all the +noise and clamour of the throng, and the ranks of the spearmen +opened, and forth into that space strode two score of the swordsmen +and axe-wielders of the Dale, their weapons raised in their hands, +and he who led them was Iron-hand of the House of the Bull: tall he +was, wide-shouldered, exceeding strong, but beardless and fair-faced. +He bore aloft a two-edged sword, broad-bladed, exceeding heavy, so +that few men could wield it in battle, but not right long; it was an +ancient weapon, and his father before him had called it the Barley- +scythe. With him were some of the best of the kindreds, as Wolf of +Whitegarth, Long-hand of Oakholt, Hart of Highcliff, and War-well the +captain of the Bridge. These made no tarrying on that space of the +dead, but cried aloud their cries: 'For the Burg and the Steer! for +the Dale and the Bridge! for the Dale and the Bull!' and so fell at +once on the Felons; who fled not, nor had room to flee; and also they +feared not the edge-weapons so sorely as they feared those huge +spears. So they turned fiercely on the swordsmen, and chiefly on +Iron-hand, as he entered in amongst them the first of all, hewing to +the right hand and the left, and many a man fell before the Barley- +scythe; for they were but little before him. Yet as one fell another +took his place, and hewed at him with the steel axe and the crooked +sword; and with many strokes they clave his shield and brake his helm +and rent his byrny, while he heeded little save smiting with the +Barley-scythe, and the blood ran from his arm and his shoulder and +his thigh. + +But War-well had entered in among the foe on his left hand, and +unshielded hove up a great broad-bladed axe, that clave the iron +helms of the Dusky Men, and rent their horn-scaled byrnies. He was +not very tall, but his shoulders were huge and his arms long, and +nought could abide his stroke. He cleared a ring round Iron-hand, +whose eyes were growing dim as the blood flowed from him, and hewed +three strokes before him; then turned and drew the champion out of +the throng, and gave him into the arms of his fellows to stanch the +blood that drained away the might of his limbs; and then with a great +wordless roar leaped back again on the Dusky Men as the lion leapeth +on the herd of swine; and they shrank away before him; and all the +swordsmen shouted, 'For the Bridge, for the Bridge!' and pressed on +the harder, smiting down all before them. On his left hand now was +Hart of Highcliff wielding a good sword hight Chip-driver, wherewith +he had slain and hurt a many, fighting wisely with sword and shield, +and driving the point home through the joints of the armour. But +even therewith, as he drave a great stroke at a lord of the Dusky +Ones, a cast-spear came flying and smote him on the breast, so that +he staggered, and the stroke fell flatlings on the shield-boss of his +foe, and Chip-driver brake atwain nigh the hilts; but Hart closed +with him, and smote him on the face with the pommel, and tore his axe +from his hand and clave his skull therewith, and slew him with his +own weapon, and fought on valiantly beside War-well. + +Now War-well had fought so fiercely that he had rent his own hauberk +with the might of his strokes, and as he raised his arm to smite a +huge stroke, a deft man of the Felons thrust the spike of his war-axe +up under his arm; and when War-well felt the smart of the steel, he +turned on that man, and, letting his axe fall down to his wrist and +hang there by its loop, he caught the foeman up by the neck and the +breech, and drave him against the other Dusky Ones before him, so +that their weapons pierced and rent their own friend and fellow. +Then he put forth the might of his arms and the pith of his body, and +hove up that felon and cast him on to the heads of his fellow murder- +carles, so that he rent them and was rent by them. Then War-well +fell on again with the axe, and all the champions of the Dale shouted +and fell on with him, and the foe shrank away; and the Dalesmen +cleared a space five fathoms' length before them, and the spearmen +drew onward and stood on the space whereon the first onslaught had +been. + +Then drew those hewers of the Dale together, and forth from the +company came the man that bare the Banner of the Bridget and the +champions gathered round him, and they ordered their ranks and strode +with the Banner before them three times to and fro across the road +athwart the front of the spearmen, and then with a great shout drew +back within the spear-hedge. Albeit five of the champions of the +Dale had been slain outright there, and the more part of them hurt +more or less. + +But when all were well within the ranks, once again blew the horn, +and all the spears sank to the rest, and the kindreds drave the +spear-furrow, and a space was swept clear before them, and the cries +and yells of the Dusky Men were so fierce and wild that the rough +voices of the Dalesmen were drowned amidst them. + +Forth then came every bowman of the kindred that was there and loosed +on the Dusky Men; and they forsooth had some bowmen amongst them, but +cooped up and jostled as they were they shot but wildly; whereas each +shaft of the Dale went home truly. + +But amongst the bowmen forth came the Bride in her glittering war- +gear, and stepped lightly to the front of the spearmen. Her own yew +bow had been smitten by a shaft and broken in her hand: so she had +caught up a short horn bow and a quiver from one of the slain of the +Dusky Men; and now she knelt on one knee under the shadow of the +spears nigh to her grandsire Hall-ward, and with a pale face and +knitted brow notched and loosed, and notched and loosed on the throng +of foemen, as if she were some daintily fashioned engine of war. + +So fared the battle on the road that went from the south into the +Market-stead. Valiantly had the kindred fought there, and no man of +them had blenched, and much had they won; but the way was perilous +before them, for the foe was many and many. + + + +CHAPTER XLV. OF FACE-OF-GOD'S ONSLAUGHT + + + +Now the banners of the Wolf flapped and rippled over the heads of the +Woodlanders and the Men of the Wolf; and the men shot all they might, +nor took heed now to cover themselves against the shafts of the Dusky +Men. As for these, for all they were so many, their arrow-shot was +no great matter, for they were in very evil order, as has been said; +and moreover, their rage was so great to come to handy strokes with +these foemen, that some of them flung away their bows to brandish the +axe or the sword. Nevertheless were some among the kindred hurt or +slain by their arrows. + +Now stood Face-of-god with the foremost; and from where he stood he +could see somewhat of the battle of the Dalesmen, and he wotted that +it was thriving; therefore he looked before him and close around him, +and noted what was toward there. The space betwixt the houses and +the break of the bent was crowded with the fury of the Dusky Men +tossing their weapons aloft, crying to each other and at the kindred, +and here and there loosing a bow-string on them; but whatever was +their rage they might not come a many together past a line within ten +fathom of the bent's end; for three hundred of the best of bowmen +were shooting at them so ceaselessly that no Dusky man was safe of +any bare place of his body, and they fell over one another in that +penfold of slaughter, and for all their madness did but little. + +Yet was the heart of the War-leader troubled; for he wotted that it +might not last for ever, and there seemed no end to the throng of +murder-carles; and the time would come when the arrowshot would be +spent, and they must needs come to handy strokes, and that with so +many. + +Now a voice spake to him as he gazed with knitted brows and careful +heart on that turmoil of battle: + +'What now hast thou done with the Sun-beam, and where is her brother? +Is the Chief of the Wolf skulking when our work is so heavy? And +thou meseemeth art overlate on the field: the mowing of this meadow +is no sluggard's work.' + +He turned and beheld Bow-may, and gazed on her face for a moment, and +saw her eyes how they glittered, and how the pommels of her cheeks +were burning red and her lips dry and grey; but before he answered he +looked all round about to see what was to note; and he touched Bow- +may on the shoulder and pointed to down below where a man of the +Felons had just come out of the court of one of the houses: a man +taller than most, very gaily arrayed, with gilded scales all over +him, so that, with his dark face and blue eyes, he looked like some +strange dragon. Bow-may spake not, but stamped her foot with anger. +Yet if her heart were hot, her hand was steady; for she notched a +shaft, and just as the Dusky Chief raised his axe and brandished it +aloft, she loosed, and the shaft flew and smote the felon in the +armpit and the default of the armour, and he fell to earth. But even +as she loosed, Face-of-god cried out in a loud voice: + +'O lads of battle! shoot close and all together. Tarry not, tarry +not! for we need a little time ere sword meets sword, and the others +of the kindreds are at work!' + +But Bow-may turned round to him and said: 'Wilt thou not answer me? +Where is thy kindness gone?' + +Even as she was speaking she had notched and loosed another shaft, +speaking as folk do who turn from busy work at loom or bench. + +Then said Face-of-god: 'Shoot on, sister Bow-may! The Sun-beam is +gone with her brother, and he is with the Men of the Face.' + +He broke off here, for a man fell beside him hurt in the neck, and +Face-of-god took his bow from his hands and shot a shaft, while one +of the women who had been hurt also tended the newly-wounded man. +Then Face-of-god went on speaking: + +'She was unwilling to go, but Folk-might and I constrained her; for +we knew that this is the most perilous place of the battle--hah! see +those three felons, Bow-may! they are aiming hither.' + +And again he loosed and Bow-may also, but a shaft rattled on his helm +withal and another smote a Woodlander beside him, and pierced through +the calf of his leg, as he turned and stooped to take fresh arrows +from a sheaf that lay there; but the carle took it by the notch and +the point, and brake it and drew it out, and then stood up and went +on shooting. And Face-of-god spake again: + +'Folk-might skulketh not; nor the Men of the Vine, and the Sickle, +and the Face, nor the Shepherd-Folk: soon shall they be making our +work easy to us, if we can hold our own till then. They are on the +other roads that lead into the square. Now suffer me, and shoot on!' + +Therewith he looked round about him, and he saw on the left hand that +all was quiet; and before him was the confused throng of the Dusky +Men trampling their own dead and wounded, and not able as yet to +cross that death-line of the arrow so near to them. But on his right +hand he saw how they of the kindreds held them firm on the way. Then +for a moment of time he considered and thought, till him-seemed he +could see the whole battle yet to be foughten; and his face flushed, +and he said sharply: 'Bow-may, abide here and shoot, and show the +others where to shoot, while the arrows hold out; but we will go +further for a while, and ye shall follow when we have made the rent +great enough.' + +She turned to him and said: 'Why art thou not more joyous? thou art +like an host without music or banners.' + +'Nay,' said he, 'heed not me, but my bidding!' + +She said hastily: 'I think I shall die here; since for all we have +shot we minish them nowise. Now kiss me this once amidst the battle, +and say farewell.' + +He said: 'Nay, nay; it shall not go thus. Abide a little while, and +thou shalt see all this tangle open, as the sun cleaveth the clouds +on the autumn morning. Yet lo thou! since thou wilt have it so.' + +And he bent forward and kissed her face, and now the tears ran over +it, and she said smiling somewhat: 'Now is this more than I looked +for, whatso may betide.' + +But while she was yet speaking he cried in a great voice: + +'Ye who have spent your shot, or have nigh spent it, to axe and +sword, and follow me to clear the ground 'twixt the bent and the +halls. Let each help each, but throng not each other. Shoot wisely, +ye bowmen, and keep our backs clear of the foe. On, on! for the Burg +and the Face, for the Burg and the Face!' + +Therewith he leapt down the steep of the hill, bounding like the +hart, with Dale-warden naked in his hand; and they that followed were +two score and ten; and the arrows of their bowmen rained over their +heads on the Dusky Men, as they smote down the first of the foemen, +and the others shrieked and shrank from them, or turned on them +smiting wildly and desperately. + +But Face-of-god swept round the great sword and plunged into that sea +of turmoil and noise and evil sights and savours, and even therewith +he heard clearly a voice that said: 'Goldring, I am hurt; take my +bow a while!' and knew it for Bow-may's; but it came to his ears like +the song of a bird without meaning; for it was as if his life were +changed at once; and in a minute or two he had cut thrice with the +edge and thrust twice with the point, eager, but clear-eyed and deft; +and he saw as in a picture the foe before him, and the grey roofs of +Silver-stead, and through the gap in them the tops of the blue ridges +far aloof. And now had three fallen before him, and they feared him, +and turned on him, and smote so many together that their strokes +crossed each other, and one warded him from the other; and he laughed +aloud and shielded himself, and drave the point of Dale-warden amidst +the tangle of weapons through the open mouth of a captain of the +Felons, and slashed a cheek with a back-stroke, and swept round the +edge to his right hand and smote off a blue-eyed snub-nosed head; and +therewith a pole-axe smote him on the left side of his helm, so that +he tottered; but he swung himself round, and stood stark and upright, +and gave a short hack with the edge, keeping Dale-warden well in +hand, and a gold-clad felon, a champion of them, and their tallest on +the ground, fell aback, his throat gaping more than the mouth of him. + +Then Face-of-god shouted and waved Dale-warden aloft to the Banner of +the Wolf that floated behind and above him, and he cried out: 'As I +have promised so have I done!' And he looked about, and beheld how +valiantly his fellows had been doing; for before him now was a space +of earth with no man standing on his feet thereon, like the swathe of +the mowers of June; and beyond that was the crowd of the Dusky Men +wavering like the tall grass abiding the scythe. + +But a minute, and they fell to casting at Face-of-god and his fellows +spears and knives and shields and whatsoever would fly; and a spear +smote him on the breast, but entered not; and a bossed shield fell +over his face withal, and a plummet of sling-lead smote his helm, and +he fell to earth; but leapt up again straightway, and heard as he +arose a great shout close to him, and a shrill cry, and lo! at his +left side Bow-may, her sword in her hand, and the hand red with blood +from a shaft-graze on her wrist, and a white cloth stained with blood +about her neck; and on his right side Wood-wise bearing the banner +and crying the Wolf-whoop; for the whole company was come down from +the slope and stood around him. + +Then for a little while was there such a stilling of the tumult about +him there, that he heard great and glad cries from the Road of the +South of 'The Burg and the Steer! The Dale and the Bridge! The Dale +and the Bull!' And thereafter a terrible great shrieking cry, and a +huge voice that cried: 'Death, death, death to the Dusky Men!' And +thereafter again fierce cries and great tumult of the battle. + +Then Face-of-god shook Dale-warden in the air, and strode forward +fiercely, but not speedily, and the whole company went foot for foot +along with him; and as he went, would he or would he not, song came +into his mouth, a song of the meadows of the Dale, even such as this: + + +The wheat is done blooming and rust's on the sickle, + And green are the meadows grown after the scythe. +Come, hands for the dance! For the toil hath been mickle, + And 'twixt haysel and harvest 'tis time to be blithe. + +And what shall the tale be now dancing is over, + And kind on the meadow sits maiden by man, +And the old man bethinks him of days of the lover, + And the warrior remembers the field that he wan? + +Shall we tell of the dear days wherein we are dwelling, + The best days of our Mother, the cherishing Dale, +When all round about us the summer is telling, + To ears that may hearken, the heart of the tale? + +Shall we sing of these hands and these lips that caress us, + And the limbs that sun-dappled lie light here beside, +When still in the morning they rise but to bless us, + And oft in the midnight our footsteps abide? + +O nay, but to tell of the fathers were better, + And of how we were fashioned from out of the earth; +Of how the once lowly spurned strong at the fetter; + Of the days of the deeds and beginning of mirth. + +And then when the feast-tide is done in the morning, + Shall we whet the grey sickle that bideth the wheat, +Till wan grow the edges, and gleam forth a warning + Of the field and the fallow where edges shall meet. + +And when cometh the harvest, and hook upon shoulder + We enter the red wheat from out of the road, +We shall sing, as we wend, of the bold and the bolder, + And the Burg of their building, the beauteous abode. + +As smiteth the sickle amid the sun's burning + We shall sing how the sun saw the token unfurled, +When forth fared the Folk, with no thought of returning, + In the days when the Banner went wide in the world. + + +Many saw that he was singing, but heard not the words of his mouth, +for great was the noise and clamour. But he heard Bow-may, how she +laughed by his side, and cried out: + +'Gold-mane, dear-heart, now art thou merry indeed; and glad am I, +though they told me that I am hurt.--Ah! now beware, beware!' + +For indeed the Dusky Men, seeing the wall of steel rolling down on +them, and cooped up by the houses, so that they scarce knew how to +flee, turned in the face of death, the foremost of them, and rushed +furiously on the array of the Woodlanders, and all those behind +pressed on them like the big wave of the ebbing sea when the gust of +the wind driveth it landward. + +The Woodlanders met them, shouting out: 'The Greenwood and the Wolf, +the Greenwood and the Wolf!' But not a few of them fell there, +though they gave not back a foot; for so fierce now were the Dusky +Men, that hewing and thrusting at them availed nought, unless they +were slain outright or stunned; and even if they fell they rolled +themselves up against their tall foe-men, heeding not death or wounds +if they might but slay or wound. There then fell War-grove and ten +others of the Woodlanders, and four men of the Wolf, but none before +he had slain his foeman; and as each man fell or was hurt grievously, +another took his place. + +Now a felon leapt up and caught Gold-ring by the neck and drew him +down, while another strove to smite his head off; but the stout carle +drave a wood-knife into the side of the first felon, and drew it out +speedily and smote the other, the smiter, in the face with the same +knife, and therewith they all three rolled together on the earth +amongst the feet of men. Even so did another felon by Bow-may, and +dragged her down to the ground, and smote her with a long knife as +she tumbled down; and this was a feat of theirs, for they were long- +armed like apes. + +But as to this felon, Dale-warden's edge split his skull, and Face- +of-god gathered his might together and bestrode Bow-may, till he had +hewed a space round about him with great two-handed strokes; and yet +the blade brake not. Then he caught up Bow-may from the earth, and +the felon's knife had not pierced her hauberk, but she was astonied, +and might not stand upon her feet; and Face-of-god turned aside a +little with her, and half bore her, half thrust her through the +throng to the rearward of his folk, and left her there with two +carlines of the Wolf who followed the host for leechcraft's sake, and +then turned back shouting: 'For the Face, for the Face!' and there +followed him back to the battle, a band of those who were fresh as +yet, and their blades unbloodied, the young men of the Woodlands. + +The wearier fighters made way for them as they came on shouting, and +Face-of-god was ahead of them all, and leapt at the foemen as a man +unwearied and striking his first stroke, so wondrous hale he was; and +they drave a wedge amidst of the Dusky Men, and then turned about and +stood back to back hewing at all that drifted on them. But as Face- +of-god cleared a space about him, lo! almost within reach of his +sword-point up rose a grim shape from the earth, tall, grey-haired, +and bloody-faced, who uttered the Wolf-whoop from amidst the terror +of his visage, and turned and swung round his head an axe of the +Dusky Men, and fell to smiting them with their own weapon. The Dusky +Men shrieked in answer to his whoop, and all shrunk from him and +Face-of-god; but a cry of joy went up from the kindred, for they knew +Gold-ring, whom they deemed had been slain. So they all pressed on +together, smiting down the foe before them, and the Dusky Men, some +turned their backs and drave those behind them, till they too turned +and were strained through the passages and courts of the houses, and +some were overthrown and trodden down as they strove to hold face to +the Woodlanders, and some were hewn down where they stood; but the +whole throng of those that were on their feet drifted toward the +Market-place, the Woodlanders following them ever with point and +edge, till betwixt the bent and the houses no foeman stood up against +them. + +Then they stood together, and raised the whoop of victory, and blew +their horns long and loud in token of their joy, and the Woodland men +lifted up their voices and sang: + + + Now far, far aloof + Standeth lintel and roof, + The dwelling of days + Of the Woodland ways: + Now nought wendeth there + Save the wolf and the bear, + And the fox of the waste + Faring soft without haste. +No carle the axe whetteth on oak-laden hill; +No shaft the hart letteth to wend at his will; +None heedeth the thunder-clap over the glade, +And the wind-storm thereunder makes no man afraid. +Is it thus then that endeth man's days on Mid-earth, +For no man there wendeth in sorrow or mirth? + + Nay, look down on the road + From the ancient abode! + Betwixt acre and field + Shineth helm, shineth shield. + And high over the heath + Fares the bane in his sheath; + For the wise men and bold + Go their ways o'er the wold. +Now the Warrior hath given them heart and fair day, +Unbidden, undriven, they fare to the fray. +By the rock and the river the banners they bear, +And their battle-staves quiver 'neath halbert and spear; +On the hill's brow they gather, and hang o'er the Dale +As the clouds of the Father hang, laden with bale. + + Down shineth the sun + On the war-deed half done; + All the fore-doomed to die, + In the pale dust they lie. + There they leapt, there they fell, + And their tale shall we tell; + But we, e'en in the gate + Of the war-garth we wait, +Till the drift of war-weather shall whistle us on, +And we tread all together the way to be won, +To the dear land, the dwelling for whose sake we came +To do deeds for the telling of song-becrowned fame. +Settle helm on the head then! Heave sword for the Dale! +Nor be mocked of the dead men for deedless and pale. + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. MEN MEET IN THE MARKET OF SILVER-STEAD + + + +So sang they; but Face-of-god went with Red-wolf, who was hurt +sorely, but not deadly, and led him back toward the place just under +the break of the bent; and there he found Bow-may in the hands of the +women who were tending her hurts. She smiled on him from a pale face +as he drew nigh, and he looked kindly at her, but he might not abide +there, for haste was in his feet. He left Red-wolf to the tending of +the women, and clomb the bent hastily, and when he deemed he was high +enough, he looked about him; and somewhat more than half an hour had +worn since Bow-may had sped the first shaft against the Dusky Men. + +He looked down into the Market-stead, and deemed he could see that +nigh the Mote-house the Dusky Men were gathering into some better +order; but they were no longer drifting toward the southern bents, +but were standing round about the altar as men abiding somewhat; and +he deemed that they had gotten more bowshot than before, and that +most of them bare bows. Though so many had been slain in the battles +of the southern bents, yet was the Market-stead full of them, so to +say, for others had come thereto in place of those that had fallen. + +But now as he looked arose mighty clamour amongst them; and a little +west of the Altar was a stir and a hurrying onward and around as in +the eddies of a swift stream. Face-of-god wotted not what was +betiding there, but he deemed that they were now ware of the onfall +of Folk-might and Hall-face and the men of Burgdale, for their faces +were all turned to where that was to be looked for. + +So he turned and looked on the road to the east of him, where had +been the battle of the Steer, but now it was all gone down toward the +Market-place, and he could but hear the clamour of it; but nought he +saw thereof, because of the houses that hid it. + +Then he cast his eyes on the road that entered the Market-stead from +the north, and he saw thereon many men gathered; and he wotted not +what they were; for though there were weapons amongst them, yet were +they not all weaponed, as far as he could see. + +Now as he looked this way and that, and deemed that he must tarry no +longer, but must enter into the courts of the houses before him and +make his way into the Market-stead, lo! a change in the throng of +Dusky Warriors nigh the Mote-house, and the ordered bands about the +Altar fell to drifting toward the western way with one accord, with +great noise and hurry and fierce cries of wrath. Then made Face-of- +god no delay, but ran down the bent at once, and at the break of it +came upon Bow-may standing upright and sword in hand; and as he +passed, she joined herself to him, and said: 'What new tidings now, +Gold-mane?' + +'Tidings of battle!' he cried; 'tidings of victory! Folk-might hath +fallen on, and the Dusky Men run hastily to meet him. Hark, hark!' + +For as he spoke came a great noise of horns, and Bow-may said: 'What +horn is that blowing?' + +He stayed not, but shouted aloud: 'For the Face, for the Face! Now +will we fall upon their backs!' + +Therewith was he come to his company, and he cried out to them: +'Heard ye the horn, heard ye the horn? Now follow me into the +Market-place; much is yet to do!' + +Even therewith came the sound of other horns, and all men were silent +a moment, and then shouted all together, for the Wood-landers knew it +for the horn of the Shepherds coming on by the eastward way. + +But Face-of-god waved his sword aloft and set on at once, and they +followed and gat them through the courts of the houses and their +passages into the Market-place. There they found more room than they +looked to find; for the foemen had drawn away on the left hand toward +the battle of Folk-might, and on the right hand toward the battle of +the Steer; and great was the noise and cry that came thence. + +Now stood Face-of-god under the two banners of the Wolf in the +Market-place of Silver-stead, and scarce had he time to be high- +hearted, for needs must he ponder in his mind what thing were best to +do. For on the left hand he deemed the foe was the strongest and +best ordered; but there also were the kindreds the doughtiest, and it +was little like that the felons should overcome the spear-casters of +the Face and the glaive-bearers of the Sickle, and the bowmen of the +Vine: there also were the wisest leaders, as the stark elder Stone- +face, and the tall Hall-face, and his father of the unshaken heart, +and above all Folk-might, fierce in his wrath, but his anger burning +steady and clear, like the oaken butt on the hearth of the hall. + +Then as his mind pictured him amongst the foe, it made therewith +another picture of the slender warrior Sun-beam caught in the tangle +of battle, and longing for him and calling for him amidst the hard +hand-play. And thereat his face flushed, and all his body waxed hot, +and he was on the very point of leading the onset against the foe on +the left. But therewith he bethought him of the bold men of the +Steer and the Bridge and the Bull weary with much fighting; and he +remembered also that the Bride was amongst them and fighting, it +might be, amidst the foremost, and if she were slain how should he +ever hold up his head again. He bethought him also that the +Shepherds, who had fallen on by the eastern road, valiant as they +were, were scarce so well armed or so well led as the others. +Therewithal he bethought him (and again it came like a picture into +his mind) of falling on the foemen by whom the southern battle was +beset, and then the twain of them meeting the Shepherds, and lastly, +all those three companies joined together clearing the Market-place, +and meeting the men under Folk-might in the midst thereof. + +Therefore, scant had he been pondering these things in his mind for a +minute ere he cried out: 'Blow up horns, blow up! forward banners, +and follow me, O valiant men! to the helping of the Steer, the +Bridge, and the Bull; deep have they thrust into the Dusky Throng, +and belike are hard pressed. Hark how the clamour ariseth from their +besetters! On now, on!' + +Therewith hung a star of sunlight on his sword as he raised it aloft, +and the Wolf-whoop rang out terribly in the Market-place, for now had +the Woodlanders also learned it, and the hearts of the foemen sank as +they heard the might and the mass thereof. Then the battle of the +Woodlanders swept round and fell upon the flank of them who were +besetting the kindreds, as an iron bar smiteth the soft fir-wood; and +they of the kindreds heard their cry, but faintly and confusedly, so +great was the turmoil of battle about them. + +Now once more was Bow-may by the side of Face-of-god; and if she had +not the might of the mightiest, yet had she the deftness of the +deftest. And now was she calm and cool, shielding herself with a +copper-bossed target, and driving home the point of her sharp sword; +white was her face, and her eyes glittered amidst it, and she seemed +to men like to those on whose heads the Warrior hath laid the Holy +Bread. + +As to Wood-wise, he had given the Banner of the red-jawed Wolf to +Stone-wolf, a huge and dreadful warrior some forty winters old, who +had fought in the Great Overthrow, and now hewed down the Dusky Men, +wielding a heavy short-sword left-handed. But Wood-wise himself +fought with a great sword, giving great strokes to the right hand and +the left, and was no more hasty than is the hewer in the winter wood. + +Face-of-god fought wisely and coldly now, and looked more to warding +his friends than destroying his foes, and both to Bow-may and Wood- +wise his sword was a shield; for oft he took the life from the edge +of the upraised axe, and stayed the point of the foeman in mid-air. + +Even so wisely fought the whole band of the Woodlanders and the +Wolves, who got within smiting space of the foe; for they had no will +to cast away their lives when assured victory was so nigh to them. +Sooth to say, the hand-play was not so hard to them as it had been +betwixt the bent and the houses; for the Dusky Men were intent on +dealing with the men of the kindreds from the southern road, who +stood war-wearied before them; and they were hewing and casting at +them, and baying and yelling like dogs; and though they turned about +to meet the storm of the Woodlanders, yet their hearts failed them +withal, and they strove to edge away from betwixt those two fearful +scythes of war, fighting as men fleeing, not as men in onset. But +still the Woodlanders and the Wolves came on, hewing and thrusting, +smiting down the foemen in heaps, till the Dusky Throng grew thin, +and the staves of the Dalesmen and their bright banners in the +morning sun were clear to see, and at last their very faces, kindly +and familiar, worn and strained with the stress of battle, or +laughing wildly, or pale with the fury of the fight. Then rose up to +the heavens the blended shout of the Woodlanders and the Dalesmen, +and now there was nought of foemen betwixt them save the dead and the +wounded. + +Then Face-of-god thrust his sword into its sheath all bloody as it +was, and strode over the dead men to where Hall-ward stood under the +banner of the Steer, and cast his arms about the old carle, and +kissed him for joy of the victory. But Hall-ward thrust him aback +and looked him in the face, and his cheeks were pale and his lips +clenched, and his eyes haggard and staring, and he said in a harsh +voice: + +'O young man, she is dead! I saw her fall. The Bride is dead, and +thou hast lost thy troth-plight maiden. O death, death to the Dusky +Men!' + +Then grew Face-of-god as pale as a linen sleeve, and all the new- +comers groaned and cried out. But a bystander said: 'Nay, nay, it +is nought so bad as that; she is hurt, and sorely; but she liveth +yet.' + +Face-of-god heard him not. He forgot Dale-warden lying in his +sheath, and he saw that the last speaker had a great wood-axe broad +and heavy in his hand, so he cried: 'Man, man, thine axe!' and +snatched it from him, and turned about to the foe again, and thrust +through the ranks, suffering none to stay him till all his friends +were behind and all his foes before him. And as he burst forth from +the ranks waving his axe aloft, bare-headed now, his yellow hair +flying abroad, his mouth crying out, 'Death, death, death to the +Dusky Men!' fear of him smote their hearts, and they howled and fled +before him as they might; for they said that the Dalesmen had prayed +their Gods into the battle. But not so fast could they flee but he +was presently amidst them, smiting down all about him, and they so +terror-stricken that scarce might they raise a hand against him. All +that blended host followed him mad with wrath and victory, and as +they pressed on, they heard behind them the horns and war-cries of +the Shepherds falling on from the east. Nought they heeded that now, +but drave on a fearful storm of war, and terrible was the slaughter +of the Felons. + +It was but a few minutes ere they had driven them up against that +great stack of faggots that had been dight for the burnt-offering of +men, and many of the felons had mounted up on to it, and now in their +anguish of fear were shooting arrows and casting spears on all about +them, heeding little if they were friend or foe. Now were the men of +the kindreds at point to climb this twiggen burg; but by this time +the fury of Face-of-god had run clear, and he knew where he was and +what he was doing; so he stayed his folk, and cried out to them: +'Forbear, climb not! let the torch help the sword!' And therewith he +looked about and saw the fire-pot which had been set down there for +the kindling of the bale-fire, and the coals were yet red in it; so +he snatched up a dry brand and lighted it thereat, and so did divers +others, and they thrust them among the faggots, and the fire caught +at once, and the tongues of flame began to leap from faggot to faggot +till all was in a light low; for the wood had been laid for that very +end, and smeared with grease and oil so that the burning to the god +might be speedy. + +But the fierceness of the kindreds heeded not the fire, nor overmuch +the men who leapt down from the stack before it, but they left all +behind them, faring straight toward the western outgate from the +Market-stead; and Face-of-god still led them on; though by now he was +wholly come to his right mind again, albeit the burden of sorrow yet +lay heavy on his heart. He had broken his axe, and had once more +drawn Dale-warden from his sheath, and many felt his point and edge. + +But now, as they chased, came a rush of men upon them again, as +though a new onset were at hand. That saw Face-of-god and Hall-ward +and War-well, and other wise leaders of men, and they bade their folk +forbear the chase, and lock their ranks to meet the onfall of this +new wave of foemen. And they did so, and stood fast as a wall; but +lo! the onrush that drave up against them was but a fleeing shrieking +throng, and no longer an array of warriors, for many had cast away +their weapons, and were rushing they knew not whither; for they were +being thrust on the bitter edges of Face-of-god's companies by the +terror of the fleers from the onset of the men of the Face, the +Sickle, and the Vine, whom Hall-face and Stone-face were leading, +along with Folk-might. Then once again the men of Face-of-god gave +forth the whoop of victory, and pressed forward again, hewing their +way through the throng of fleers, but turning not to chase to the +right or the left; while at their backs came on the Shepherd-folk, +who had swept down all that withstood them; for now indeed was the +Market-stead getting thinner of living men. + +So led the War-leader his ordered ranks, till at last over the +tangled crowd of runaways he saw the banners of the Burg and the Face +flashing against the sun, and heard the roar of the kindreds as they +drave the chase towards them. Then he lifted up his sword, and stood +still, and all the host behind him stayed and cast a huge shout up to +the heavens, and there they abode the coming of the other Dalesmen. + +But the War-leader sent a message to Hound-under-Greenbury, bidding +him lead the Shepherds to the chase of the Dusky Men, who were now +all fleeing toward the northern outgate of the Market. Howbeit he +called to mind the throng he had seen on the northern road before +they were come into the Market-stead, and deemed that way also death +awaited the foemen, even if the men of the kindreds forbore them. + +But presently the space betwixt the Woodlanders and the men of the +Face was clear of all but the dead, so that friend saw the face of +friend; and it could be seen that the warriors of the Face were ruddy +and smiling for joy, because the battle had been easy to them, and +but few of them had fallen; for the Dusky Men who had left the +Market-stead to fall on them, had had room for fleeing behind them, +and had speedily turned their backs before the spear-casting of the +men of the Face and the onrush of the swordsmen. + +There then stood these victorious men facing one another, and the +banner-bearers on either side came through the throng, and brought +the banners together between the two hosts; and the Wolf kissed the +Face, and the Sickle and the Vine met the Steer and the Bridge and +the Bull: but the Shepherds were yet chasing the fleers. + +There in the forefront stood Hall-face the tall, with the joy of +battle in his eyes. And Stone-face, the wise carle in war, stood +solemn and stark beside him; and there was the goodly body and the +fair and kindly visage of the Alderman smiling on the faces of his +friends. But as for Folk-might, his face was yet white and aweful +with anger, and he looked restlessly up and down the front of the +kindreds, though he spake no word. + +Then Face-of-god could no longer forbear, but he thrust Dale-warden +into his sheath, and ran forward and cast his arms about his father's +neck and kissed him; and the blood of himself and of the foemen was +on him, for he had been hurt in divers places, but not sorely, +because of the good hammer-work of the Alderman. + +Then he kissed his brother and Stone-face, and he took Folk-might by +the hand, and was on the point of speaking some word to him, when the +ranks of the Face opened, and lo! the Sun-beam in her bright war- +gear, and the sword girt to her side, and she unhurt and unsullied. + +Then was it to him as when he met her first in Shadowy Vale, and he +thought of little else than her; but she stepped lightly up to him, +and unashamed before the whole host she kissed him on the mouth, and +he cast his mailed arms about her, and joy made him forget many +things and what was next to do, though even at that moment came +afresh a great clamour of shrieks and cries from the northern outgate +of the Market-stead: and the burning pile behind them cast a great +wavering flame into the air, contending with the bright sun of that +fair day, now come hard on noontide. But ere he drew away his face +from the Sun-beam's, came memory to him, and a sharp pang shot +through his heart, as he heard Folk-might say: 'Where then is the +Shield-may of Burgstead? where is the Bride?' + +And Face-of-god said under his breath: 'She is dead, she is dead!' +And then he stared out straight before him and waited till someone +else should say it aloud. But Bow-may stepped forward and said: +'Chief of the Wolf, be of good cheer; our kinswoman is hurt, but not +deadly.' + +The Alderman's face changed, and he said: 'Hast thou seen her, Bow- +may?' + +'Nay,' she said. 'How should I leave the battle? but others have +told me who have seen her.' + +Folk-might stared into the ranks of men before him, but said nothing. +Said the Alderman: 'Is she well tended?' + +'Yea, surely,' said Bow-may, 'since she is amongst friends, and there +are no foemen behind us.' + +Then came a voice from Folk-might which said: 'Now were it best to +send good men and deft in arms, and who know Silver-dale, from house +to house, to search for foemen who may be lurking there.' + +The Alderman looked kindly and sadly on him and said: + +'Kinsman Stone-face, and Hall-face my son, the brunt of the battle is +now over, and I am but a simple man amongst you; therefore, if ye +will give me leave, I will go see this poor kinswoman of ours, and +comfort her.' + +They bade him go: so he sheathed his sword, and went through the +press with two men of the Steer toward the southern road; for the +Bride had been brought into a house nigh the corner of the Market- +place. + +But Face-of-god looked after his father as he went, and remembrance +of past days came upon him, and such a storm of grief swept over him, +as he thought of the Bride lying pale and bleeding and brought anigh +to her death, that he put his hands to his face and wept as a child +that will not be comforted; nor had he any shame of all those +bystanders, who in sooth were men good and kindly, and had no shame +of his grief or marvelled at it, for indeed their own hearts were +sore for their lovely kinswoman, and many of them also wept with +Face-of-god. But the Sun-beam stood by and looked on her betrothed, +and she thought many things of the Bride, and was sorry, albeit no +tears came into her eyes; then she looked askance at Folk-might and +trembled; but he said coldly, and in a loud voice: + +'Needs must we search the houses for the lurking felons, or many a +man will yet be murdered. Let Wood-wicked lead a band of men at once +from house to house.' + +Then said a man of the Wolf hight Hardgrip: 'Wood-wicked was slain +betwixt the bent and the houses.' + +Said Folk-might: 'Let it be Wood-wise then.' + +But Bow-may said: 'Wood-wise is even now hurt in the leg by a +wounded felon, and may not go afoot.' + +Then said Folk-might: 'Is Crow the Shaft-speeder anigh?' + +'Yea, here am I,' quoth a tall man of fifty winters, coming from out +the ranks where stood the Wolves. + +Said Folk-might: 'Kinsman Crow, do thou take two score and ten of +doughty men who are not too hot-headed, and search every house about +the Market-place; but if ye come on any house that makes a stout +defence, send ye word thereof to the Mote-house, where we will +presently be, and we shall send you help. Slay every felon that ye +fall in with; but if ye find in the houses any of the poor folk +crouching and afraid, comfort their hearts all ye may, and tell them +that now is life come to them.' + +So Crow fell to getting his band together, and presently departed +with them on his errand. + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. THE KINDREDS WIN THE MOTE-HOUSE + + + +The din and tumult still came from the north side of the Market- +place, so that all the air was full of noise; and Face-of-god deemed +that the thralls had gotten weapons into their hands and were slaying +their masters. + +Now he lifted up his face, and put his hand on Folk-might's shoulder, +and said in a loud voice: + +'Kinsmen, it were well if our brother were to bid the banners into +the Mote-house of the Wolf, and let all the Host set itself in array +before the said house, and abide till the chasers of the foe come to +us thither; for I perceive that they are now become many, and are +more than those of our kindred.' + +Then Folk-might looked at him with kind eyes, and said: + +'Thou sayest well, brother; even so let it be!' + +And he lifted up his sword, and Face-of-god cried out in a loud +voice: 'Forward, banners! blow up horns! fare we forth with +victory!' + +So the Host drew its ranks together in good order, and they all set +forward, and old Stone-face took the Sun-beam by the hand and led on +behind Folk-might and the War-leader. But when they came to the +Hall, then saw they how the steps that led up to the door were high +and double, going up from each side without any railing or fool- +guard; and crowding the stairs and the platform thereof was a band of +the Dusky Men, as many as could stand thereon, who shot arrows at the +host of the kindreds, howling like dogs, and chattering like apes; +and arrows and spears came from the windows of the Hall; yea, and on +the very roof a score of these felons were riding the ridge and +mocking like the trolls of old days. + +Now when they saw this they stayed a while, and men shielded them +against the shafts; but the leaders drew together in front of the +Host, and Folk-might fell to speech; and his face was very pale and +stern; for now he had had time to think of the case of the Bride, and +fierce wrath, and grief unholpen filled his soul. So he said: + +'Brothers, this is my business to deal with; for I see before me the +stair that leadeth to the Mote-house of my people, and now would I +sit there whereas my fathers sat, when peace was on the Dale, as once +more it shall be to-morrow. Therefore up this stair will I go, and +none shall hinder me; and let no man of the host follow me till I +have entered into the Hall, unless perchance I fall dead by the way; +but stand ye still and look on.' + +'Nay,' said Face-of-god, 'this is partly the business of the War- +leader. There are two stairs. Be content to take the southern one, +and I will take the northern. We shall meet on the plain stone at +the top.' + +But Hall-face said: 'War-leader, may I speak?' + +'Speak, brother,' said Face-of-god. + +Said Hall-face: 'I have done but little to-day, War-leader. I would +stand by thee on the northern stair; so shall Folk-might be content, +if he doeth two men's work who are not little-hearted.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'The doom of the War-leader is that Folk-might +shall fall on by the southern stair to slake his grief and increase +his glory, and Face-of-god and Hall-face by the northern. Haste to +the work, O brothers!' + +And he and Hall-face went to their places, while all looked on. But +the Sun-beam, with her hand still in Stone-face's, she turned white +to the lips, and stared with wild eyes before her, not knowing where +she was; for she had deemed that the battle was over, and Face-of-god +saved from it. + +But Folk-might tossed up his head and laughed, and cried out, 'At +last, at last!' And his sword was in his hand, the Sleep-thorn to +wit, a blade of ancient fame; so now he let it fall and hang to his +wrist by the leash, while he clapped his hands together and uttered +the Wolf-whoop mightily, and all the men of the Wolf that were in the +host, and the Woodlanders withal, uttered it with him. Then he put +his shield over his head and stood before the first of the steps, and +the Dusky Men laughed to see one man come against them, though there +was death in their hearts. But he laughed back at them in triumph, +and set his foot on the step, and let Sleep-thorn's point go into the +throat of a Dusky lord, and thrust amongst them, hewing right and +left, and tumbling men over the edge of the stair, which was to them +as the narrow path along the cliff-side that hangeth over the +unfathomed sea. They hewed and thrust at him in turn; but so close +were they packed that their weapons crossed about him, and one +shielded him from the other, and they swayed staggering on that +fearful verge, while the Sleep-thorn crept here and there amongst +them, lulling their hot fury. For, as desperate as they were, and +fighting for death and not for life, they had a horror of him and of +the sea of hatred below them, and feared where to set their feet, and +he feared nought at all, but from feet to sword-point was but an +engine of slaughter, while the heart within him throbbed with fury +long held back as he thought upon the Bride and her wounding, and all +the wrongs of his people since their Great Undoing. + +So he smote and thrust, till him-seemed the throng of foes thinned +before him: with his sword-pommel he smote a lord of the Dusky Ones +in the face, so that he fell over the edge amongst the spears of the +kindred; then he thrust the point of Sleep-thorn towards the Hall- +door through the breast of another, and then it seemed to him that he +had but one before him; so he hove up the edges to cleave him down, +but ere the stroke fell, close to his ears exceeding loud rang out +the cry, 'For the Burg and the Face! for the Face, for the Face!' and +he drew aback a little, and his eyes cleared, and lo! it was Hall- +face the tall, his long sword all reddened with battle; and beside +him stood Face-of-god, silent and panting, his face pale with the +fierce anger of the fight, and the weariness which was now at last +gaining upon him. There stood those three with no other living man +upon the plain of the stairs. + +Then Face-of-god turned shouting to the Folk, and cried: + +'Forth now with the banners! For now is the Wolf come home. On into +the Hall, O Kindred of the Gods!' + +Then poured the Folk up over the stairs and into the Hall of the +Wolf, the banners flapping over their heads; and first went the War- +leader and Folk-might and Hall-face, and then the three delivered +thralls, Wolf-stone, God-swain, and Spear-fist, and Dallach with +them, though both he and Wolf-stone had been hurt in the battle; and +then came blended together the Men of the Face along with them of the +Wolf who had entered the Market-stead with them, and with these were +Stone-face and Wood-wont and Bow-may, leading the Sun-beam betwixt +them; and now was she come to herself again, though her face was yet +pale, and her eyes gleamed as she stepped across the threshold of the +Hall. + +But when a many were gotten in, and the first-comers had had time to +handle their weapons and look about them, a cry of the utmost wrath +broke from Folk-might and those others who remembered the Hall from +of old. For wretched and befouled was that well-builded house: the +hangings rent away; the goodly painted walls daubed and smeared with +wicked tokens of the Alien murderers: the floor, once bright with +polished stones of the mountain, and strewn with sweet-smelling +flowers, was now as foul as the den of the man-devouring troll of the +heaths. From the fair-carven roof of oak and chestnut-beams hung +ugly knots of rags and shapeless images of the sorcery of the Dusky +Men. And furthermore, and above all, from the last tie-beam of the +roof over the dais dangled four shapes of men-at-arms, whom the older +men of the Wolf knew at once for the embalmed bodies of their four +great chieftains, who had been slain on the day of the Great Undoing; +and they cried out with horror and rage as they saw them hanging +there in their weapons as they had lived. + +There was the Hostage of the Earth, his shield painted with the green +world circled with the worm of the sea. There was the older Folk- +might, the uncle of the living man, bearing a shield with an oak and +a lion done thereon. There was Wealth-eker, on whose shield was done +a golden sheaf of wheat. There was he who bore a name great from of +old, Folk-wolf to wit, bearing on his shield the axe of the hewer. +There they hung, dusty, befouled, with sightless eyes and grinning +mouths, in the dimmed sunlight of the Hall, before the eyes of that +victorious Host, stricken silent at the sight of them. + +Underneath them on the dais stood the last remnant of the battle of +the Dusky Men; and they, as men mad with coming death, shook their +weapons, and with shrieking laughter mocked at the overcomers, and +pointed to the long-dead chiefs, and called on them in the tongue of +the kindreds to come down and lead their dear kinsmen to the high- +seat; and then they cried out to the living warriors of the Wolf, and +bade them better their deed of slaying, and set to work to make alive +again, and cause their kinsmen to live merry on the earth. + +With that last mock they handled their weapons and rushed howling on +the warriors to meet their death; nor was it long denied them; for +the sword of the Wolf, the axe of the Woodland, and the spear of the +Dale soon made an end of the dreadful lives of these destroyers of +the Folks. + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. MEN SING IN THE MOTE-HOUSE + + + +Then strode the Warriors of the Wolf over the bodies of the slain on +to the dais of their own Hall; and Folk-might led the Sun-beam by the +hand, and now was his sword in its sheath, and his face was grown +calm, though it was stern and sad. But even as he trod the dais +comes a slim swain of the Wolves twisting himself through the throng, +and so maketh way to Folk-might, and saith to him: + +'Chieftain, the Alderman of Burgdale sendeth me hither to say a word +to thee; even this, which I am to tell to thee and the War-leader +both: It is most true that our kinswoman the Bride will not die, but +live. So help me, the Warrior and the Face! This is the word of the +Alderman.' + +When Folk-might heard this, his face changed and he hung his head; +and Face-of-god, who was standing close by, beheld him and deemed +that tears were falling from his eyes on to the hall-floor. As for +him, he grew exceeding glad, and he turned to the Sun-beam and met +her eyes, and saw that she could scarce refrain her longing for him; +and he was abashed for the sweetness of his love. But she drew close +up to him, and spake to him softly and said: + +'This is the day that maketh amends; and yet I long for another day. +When I saw thee coming to me that first day in Shadowy Vale, I +thought thee so goodly a warrior that my heart was in my mouth. But +now how goodly thou art! For the battle is over, and we shall live.' + +'Yea,' said Face-of-god, 'and none shall begrudge us our love. +Behold thy brother, the hard-heart, the warrior; he weepeth because +he hath heard that the Bride shall live. Be sure then that she shall +not gainsay him. O fair shall the world be to-morrow!' + +But she said: 'O Gold-mane, I have no words. Is there no minstrelsy +amongst us?' + +Now by this time were many of the men of the Wolf and the Woodlanders +gathered on the dais of the Hall; and the Dalesmen noting this, and +wotting that these men were now in their own Mote-house, withdrew +them as they might for the press toward the nether end thereof. That +the Sun-beam noted, and that all those about her save the War-leader +were of the kindreds of the Wolf and the Woodland, and, still +speaking softly, she said to Face-of-god: + +'Gold-mane, meseemeth I am now in my wrong place; for now the Wolf +raiseth up his head, but I am departing from him. Surely I should +now be standing amongst my people of the Face, whereto I am going ere +long.' + +He said: 'Beloved, I am now become thy kindred and thine home, and +it is meet for thee to stand beside me.' + +She cast her eyes adown and answered not; and she fell a-pondering of +how sorely she had desired that fair dale, and now she would leave +it, and be content and more than content. + +But now the kindreds had sundered, they upon the dais ranked +themselves together there in the House which their fathers had +builded; and when they saw themselves so meetly ordered, their hearts +being full with the sweetness of hope accomplished and the joy of +deliverance from death, song arose amongst them, and they fell to +singing together; and this is somewhat of their singing: + + + Now raise we the lay + Of the long-coming day! + Bright, white was the sun + When we saw it begun: + O'er its noon now we live; + It hath ceased not to give; + It shall give, and give more + From the wealth of its store. +O fair was the yesterday! Kindly and good +Was the wasteland our guester, and kind was the wood; +Though below us for reaping lay under our hand +The harvest of weeping, the grief of the land; +Dumb cowered the sorrow, nought daring to cry +On the help of to-morrow, the deed drawing nigh. + + All increase throve + In the Dale of our love; + There the ox and the steed + Fed down the mead; + The grapes hung high + 'Twixt earth and sky, + And the apples fell + Round the orchard well. +Yet drear was the land there, and all was for nought; +None put forth a hand there for what the year wrought, +And raised it o'erflowing with gifts of the earth. +For man's grief was growing beside of the mirth +Of the springs and the summers that wasted their wealth; +And the birds, the new-comers, made merry by stealth. + + Yet here of old + Abode the bold; + Nor had they wailed + Though the wheat had failed, + And the vine no more + Gave forth her store. + Yea, they found the waste good + For the fearless of mood. +Then to these, that were dwelling aloof from the Dale, +Fared the wild-wind a-telling the worst of the tale; +As men bathed in the morning they saw in the pool +The image of scorning, the throne of the fool. +The picture was gleaming in helm and in sword, +And shone forth its seeming from cups of the board. + + Forth then they came + With the battle-flame; + From the Wood and the Waste + And the Dale did they haste: + They saw the storm rise, + And with untroubled eyes + The war-storm they met; + And the rain ruddy-wet. +O'er the Dale then was litten the Candle of Day, +Night-sorrow was smitten, and gloom fled away. +How the grief-shackles sunder! How many to morn +Shall awaken and wonder how gladness was born! +O wont unto sorrow, how sweet unto you +Shall be pondering to-morrow what deed is to do! + + Fell many a man + 'Neath the edges wan, + In the heat of the play + That fashioned the day. + Praise all ye then + The death of men, + And the gift of the aid + Of the unafraid! +O strong are the living men mighty to save, +And good is their giving, and gifts that we have! +But the dead, they that gave us once, never again; +Long and long shall they save us sore trouble and pain. +O Banner above us, O God of the strong, +Love them as ye love us that bore down our wrong! + + +So they sang in the Hall; and there was many a man wept, as the song +ended, for those that should never see the good days of the Dale, and +all the joy that was to be; and men swore, by all that they loved, +that they would never forget those that had fallen in the Winning of +Silver-dale; and that when each year the Cups of Memory went round, +they should be no mere names to them, but the very men whom they had +known and loved. + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. DALLACH FARETH TO ROSE-DALE: CROW TELLETH OF HIS +ERRAND: THE KINDREDS EAT THEIR MEAT IN SILVER-DALE + + + +Now Dallach, who had gone away for a while, came back again into the +Hall; and at his back were a half score of men who bore ladders with +them: they were stout men, clad in scanty and ragged raiment, but +girt with swords and bearing axes, those of them who were not +handling the ladders. Men looked on them curiously, because they saw +them to be of the roughest of the thralls. They were sullen and +fierce-eyed to behold, and their hands and bare arms were flecked +with blood; and it was easy to see that they had been chasing the +fleers, and making them pay for their many torments of past days. + +But when Face-of-god beheld this he cried out: 'Ho, Dallach! is it +so that thou hast bethought thee to bring in hither men to fall to +the cleansing of the Hall, and to do away the defiling of the Dusky +Men?' + +'Even so, War-leader,' said Dallach; 'also ye shall know that all +battle is over in Silver-stead; for the thralls fell in numbers not +to be endured on the Dusky Men who had turned their backs to us, and +hindered them from fleeing north. But though they have slain many, +they have not slain all, and the remnant have fled by divers ways +westaway, that they may gain the wood and the ways to Rose-dale; and +the stoutest of the thralls are at their heels, and ever as they go +fresh men from the fields join in the chase with great joy. I have +gathered together of the best of them two hundreds and a half well- +armed; and if thou wilt give me leave, I will get to me yet more, and +follow hard on the fleers, and so get me home to Rose-dale; for +thither will these runaways to meet whatso of their kind may be left +there. Also I would fain be there to set some order amongst the poor +folk of mine own people, whom this day's work hath delivered from +torment. And if thou wilt suffer a few men of the Dalesmen to come +along with me, then shall all things be better done there.' + +'Luck go with thine hands!' said Face-of-god. 'Take whomso thou wilt +of the Burgdalers that have a mind to fare with thee to the number of +five score; and send word of thy thriving to Folk-might, the +chieftain of the Dale; as for us, meseemeth that we shall abide here +no long while. How sayest thou, Folk-might, shall Dallach go?' + +Then Folk-might, who stood close beside him, looked up and reddened +somewhat, as a man caught heedless when he should be heedful; but he +looked kindly on Face-of-god, and said: + +'War-leader, so long as thou art in the Dale which ye kindreds have +won back for us, thou art the chieftain, and no other, and I bid thee +do as thou wilt in this matter, and in all things; and I hereby give +command to all my kindred to do according to thy will everywhere and +always, as they love me; and indeed I deem that thy will shall be +theirs; since it is only fools who know not their well-wishers. How +say ye, kinsmen?' + +Then those about cried out: 'Hail to Face-of-god! Hail to the +Dalesmen! Hail to our friends!' + +But Folk-might went up to Face-of-god, and threw his arms about him +and kissed him, and he said therewithal, so that most men heard him: + +'Herewith I kiss not only thee, thou goodly and glorious warrior! but +this kiss and embrace is for all the men of the kindreds of the Dale +and the Shepherds; since I deem that never have men more valiant +dwelt upon the earth.' + +Therewith all men shouted for joy of him, and were exceeding glad; +but Folk-might spake apart to Face-of-god and said: + +'Brother, I suppose that thou wilt deem it good to abide in this Hall +or anigh it; for hereabouts now is the heart of the Host. But as for +me, I would have leave to depart for a little; since I have an +errand, whereof thou mayest wot.' + +Then Face-of-god smiled on him, and said: 'Go, and all good go with +thee; and tell my father that I would have tidings, since I may not +be there.' So he spake; yet in his heart was he glad that he might +not go to behold the Bride lying sick and sorry. But Folk-might +departed without more words; and in the door of the Hall he met Crow +the Shaft-speeder, who would have spoken to him, and given him the +tidings; but Folk-might said to him: 'Do thine errand to the War- +leader, who is within the Hall.' And so went on his way. + +Then came Crow up the Hall, and stood before Face-of-god and said: +'War-leader, we have done that which was to be done, and have cleared +all the houses about the Market-stead. Moreover, by the rede of +Dallach we have set certain men of the poor folk of the Dale, who are +well looked to by the others, to the burying of the slain felons; and +they be digging trenches in the fields on the north side of the +Market-stead, and carry the carcasses thither as they may. But the +slain whom they find of the kindreds do they array out yonder before +this Hall. In all wise are these men tame and biddable, save that +they rage against the Dusky Men, though they fear them yet. As for +us, they deem us Gods come down from heaven to help them. So much +for what is good: now have I an ill word to say; to wit, that in the +houses whereas we have found many thralls alive, yet also have we +found many dead; for amongst these murder-carles were some of an evil +sort, who, when they saw that the battle would go against them, +rushed into the houses hewing down all before them--man, woman, and +child; so that many of the halls and chambers we saw running blood +like to shambles. To be short: of them whom they were going to hew +to the Gods, we have found thirteen living and three dead, of which +latter is one woman; and of the living, seven women; and all these, +living and dead, with the leaden shackles yet on them wherein they +should be burned. To all these and others whom we have found, we +have done what of service we could in the way of victual and clothes, +so that they scarce believe that they are on this lower earth. +Moreover, I have with me two score of them, who are men of some wits, +and who know of the stores of victual and other wares which the +felons had, and these will fetch and carry for you as much as ye +will. Is all done rightly, War-leader?' + +'Right well,' said Face-of-god, 'and we give thee our thanks +therefor. And now it were well if these thy folk were to dight our +dinner for us in some green field the nighest that may be, and +thither shall all the Host be bidden by sound of horn. Meantime, let +us void this Hall till it be cleansed of the filth of the Dusky Ones; +but hereafter shall we come again to it, and light a fire on the Holy +Hearth, and bid the Gods and the Fathers come back and behold their +children sitting glad in the ancient Hall.' + +Then men shouted and were exceeding joyous; but Face-of-god said once +more: 'Bear ye a bench out into the Market-place over against the +door of this Hall: thereon will I sit with other chieftains of the +kindreds, that whoso will may have recourse to us.' + +So therewith all the men of the kindreds made their ways out of the +Hall and into the Market-stead, which was by this time much cleared +of the slaughtered felons; and the bale for the burnt-offering was +now but smouldering, and a thin column of blue smoke was going up +wavering amidst the light airs of the afternoon. Men were somewhat +silent now; for they were stiff and weary with the morning's battle; +and a many had been hurt withal; and on many there yet rested the +after-grief of battle, and sorrow for the loss of friends and well- +wishers. + +For in the battle had fallen one long hundred and two of the men of +the Host; and of these were two score and five of the kindreds of the +Steer, the Bull, and the Bridge, who had made such valiant onslaught +by the southern road. Of the Shepherds died one score save three; +for though they scattered the foe at once, yet they fell on with such +headlong valour, rather than wisely, that many were trapped in the +throng of the Dusky Men. Of the Woodlanders were slain one score and +nine; for hard had been the fight about them, and no man of them +spared himself one whit. Of the men of the Wolf, who were but a few, +fell sixteen men, and all save two of these in Face-of-god's battle. +Of the Burgdale men whom Folk-might led, to wit, them of the Face, +the Vine, and the Sickle, were but seven men slain outright. In this +tale are told all those who died of their hurts after the day of +battle. Therewithal many others were sorely hurt who mended, and +went about afterwards hale and hearty. + +So as the folk abode in the Market-place, somewhat faint and weary, +they heard horns blow up merrily, and Crow the Shaft-speeder came +forth and stood on the mound of the altar, and bade men fare to +dinner, and therewith he led the way, bearing in his hand the banner +of the Golden Bushel, of which House he was; and they followed him +into a fair and great mead on the southwest of Silver-stead, +besprinkled about with ancient trees of sweet chestnut. There they +found the boards spread for them with the best of victual which the +poor down-trodden folk knew how to dight for them; and especially was +there great plenty of good wine of the sun-smitten bents. + +So they fell to their meat, and the poor folk, both men and women, +served them gladly, though they were somewhat afeard of these fierce +sword-wielders, the Gods who had delivered them. The said thralls +were mostly not of those who had fallen so bitterly on their fleeing +masters, but were men and women of the households, not so roughly +treated as the others, that is to say, those who had been wont to +toil under the lash in the fields and the silver-mines, and were as +wild as they durst be. + +As for these waiting-thralls, the men of the kindreds were gentle and +blithe with them, and often as they served them would they stay their +hands (and especially if they were women), and would draw down their +heads to put a morsel in their mouths, or set the wine-cup to their +lips; and they would stroke them and caress them, and treat them in +all wise as their dear friends. Moreover, when any man was full, he +would arise and take hold of one of the thralls, and set him in his +place, and serve him with meat and drink, and talk with him kindly, +so that the poor folk were much bewildered with joy. And the first +that arose from table were the Sun-beam and Bow-may and Hall-face, +with many of the swains and the women of the Woodlanders; and they +went from table to table serving the others. + +The Sun-beam had done off her armour, and went about exceeding fair +and lovely in her kirtle; but Bow-may yet bore her hauberk, for she +loved it, and indeed it was so fine and well-wrought that it was no +great burden. Albeit she had gone down with the Sun-beam and other +women to a fair stream thereby, and there had they bathed and washed +themselves; and Bow-may's hurts, which were not great, had been +looked to and bound up afresh, and she had come to table unhelmed, +with a wreath of wind-flowers round her head. + +There then they feasted; and their hearts were strengthened by the +meat and drink; and if sorrow were blended with their joy, yet were +they high-hearted through both joy and sorrow, looking forward to the +good days to be in the Dales at the Roots of the Mountains, and the +love and fellowship of Folks and of Houses. + +But as for Face-of-god, he went not to the meadow, but abode sitting +on the bench in the Market-place, where were none else now of the +kindreds save the appointed warders. They had brought him a morsel +and a cup of wine, and he had eaten and drunk; and now he sat there +with Dale-warden lying sheathed across his knees, and seeming to gaze +on the thralls of Silver-dale busied in carrying away the bodies of +the slain felons, after they had stripped them of their raiment and +weapons. Yet indeed all this was before his eyes as a picture which +he noted not. Rather he sat pondering many things; wondering at his +being there in Silver-dale in the hour of victory; longing for the +peace of Burgdale and the bride-chamber of the Sun-beam. Then went +his thought out toward his old playmate lying hurt in Silver-dale; +and his heart was grieved because of her, yet not for long, though +his thought still dwelt on her; since he deemed that she would live +and presently be happy--and happy thenceforward for many years. So +pondered Face-of-god in the Market-place of Silver-dale. + + + +CHAPTER L. FOLK-MIGHT SEETH THE BRIDE AND SPEAKETH WITH HER + + + +Now tells the tale of Folk-might, that he went his ways from the Hall +to the house where the Bride lay; and the swain who had brought the +message went along with him, and he was proud of walking beside so +mighty a warrior, and he talked to Folk-might as they went; and the +sound of his voice was irksome to the chieftain, but he made as +though he hearkened. Yet when they came to the door of the house, +which was just out of the Place on the Southern road (for thereby had +the Bride fallen to earth), he could withhold his grief no longer, +but turned on the threshold and laid his head on the door-jamb, and +sobbed and wept till the tears fell down like rain. And the boy +stood by wondering, and wishing that Folk-might would forbear +weeping, but durst not speak to him. + +In a while Folk-might left weeping and went in, and found a fair hall +sore befouled by the felons, and in the corner on a bed covered with +furs the wounded woman; and at first sight he deemed her not so pale +as he looked to see her, as she lay with her long dark-red hair +strewed over the pillow, her head moving about wearily. A linen +cloth was thrown over her body, but her arms lay out of it before +her. Beside her sat the Alderman, his face sober enough, but not as +one in heavy sorrow; and anigh him was another chair as if someone +had but just got up from it. There was no one else in the hall save +two women of the Woodlanders, one of whom was cooking some potion on +the hearth, and another was sweeping the floor anigh of bran or some +such stuff, which had been thrown down to sop up the blood. + +So Folk-might went up to the Bride, sorely dreading the image of +death which she had grown to be, and sorely loving the woman she was +and would be. + +He knelt down by the bedside, heeding Iron-face little, though he +nodded friendly to him, and he held his face close to hers; but she +had her eyes shut and did not open them till he had been there a +little while; and then they opened and fixed themselves on his +without surprise or change. Then she lifted her right hand (for it +was in her left shoulder and side that she had been hurt) and slowly +laid it on his head, and drew his face to hers and kissed it fondly, +as she both smiled and let the tears run over from her eyes. Then +she spake in a weak voice: + +'Thou seest, chieftain and dear friend, that I may not stand by thy +victorious side to-day. And now, though I were fain if thou wouldst +never leave me, yet needs must thou go about thy work, since thou art +become the Alderman of the Folk of Silver-dale. Yea, and even if +thou wert not to go from me, yet in a manner should I go from thee. +For I am grievously hurt, and I know by myself, and also the leeches +have told me, that the fever is a-coming on me; so that presently I +shall not know thee, but may deem thee to be a woman, or a hound, or +the very Wolf that is the image of the Father of thy kindred; or +even, it may be, someone else--that I have played with time agone.' + +Her voice faltered and faded out here, and she was silent a while; +then she said: + +'So depart, kind friend and dear love, bearing this word with thee, +that should I die, I call on Iron-face my kinsman to bear witness +that I bid thee carry me to bale in Silver-dale, and lay mine ashes +with the ashes of thy Fathers, with whom thine own shall mingle at +the last, since I have been of the warriors who have helped to bring +thee aback to the land of thy folk.' + +Then she smiled and shut her eyes and said: 'And if I live, as +indeed I hope, and how glad and glad I shall be to live, then shalt +thou bring me to thy house and thy bed, that I may not depart from +thee while both our lives last.' + +And she opened her eyes and looked at him; and he might not speak for +a while, so ravished as he was betwixt joy and sorrow. But the +Alderman arose and took a gold ring from off his arm, and spake: + +'This is the gold ring of the God of the Face, and I bear it on mine +arm betwixt the Folk and the God in all man-motes, and I bore it +through the battle to-day; and it is as holy a ring as may be; and +since ye are plighting troth, and I am the witness thereof, it were +good that ye held this ring together and called the God to witness, +who is akin to the God of the Earth, as we all be. Take the ring, +Folk-might, for I trust thee; and of all women now alive would I have +this woman happy.' + +So Folk-might took the ring and thrust his hand through it, and took +her hand, and said: + +'Ye Fathers, thou God of the Face, thou Earth-god, thou Warrior, bear +witness that my life and my body are plighted to this woman, the +Bride of the House of the Steer!' + +His face was flushed and bright as he spoke, but as his words ceased +he noted how feebly her hand lay in his, and his face fell, and he +gazed on her timidly. But she lay quiet, and said softly and slowly: + +'O Fathers of my kindred! O Warrior and God of the Earth! bear +witness that I plight my troth to this man, to lie in his grave if I +die, and in his bed if I live.' + +And she smiled on him again, and then closed her eyes; but opened +them presently once more, and said: + +'Dear friend, how fared it with Gold-mane to-day?' + +Said Folk-might: 'So well he did, that none might have done better. +He fared in the fight as if he had been our Father the Warrior: he +is a great chieftain.' + +She said: 'Wilt thou give him this message from me, that in no wise +he forget the oath which he swore upon the finger-ring as it lay on +the sundial of the Garden of the Face? And say, moreover, that I am +sorry that we shall part, and have between us such breadth of wild- +wood and mountain-neck.' + +'Yea, surely will I give thy message,' said Folk-might; and in his +heart he rejoiced, because he heard her speak as if she were sure of +life. Then she said faintly: + +'It is now thy work to depart from me, and to do as it behoveth a +chieftain of the people and the Alderman of Silver-dale. Depart, +lest the leeches chide me: farewell, my dear!' + +So he laid his face to hers and kissed her, and rose up and embraced +Iron-face, and went his ways without looking back. + +But just over the threshold he met old Hall-ward of the House of the +Steer, who was at point to enter, and he greeted him kindly. The old +man looked on him steadily, and said: 'To-morrow or the day after I +will utter a word to thee, O Chief of the Wolf.' + +'In a good hour,' said Folk-might, 'for all thy words are true.' +Therewith he gat him away from the house, and came to Face-of-god, +where he sat before the altar of the Crooked Sword; and now were the +chiefs come back from their meat, and were sitting with him; there +also were Wood-father and Wood-wont; but Bow-may was with the Sun- +beam, who was resting softly in the fair meadow after all the +turmoil. + +So men made place for Folk-might beside the War-leader, who looked +upon his face, and saw that it was sober and unsmiling, but not heavy +or moody with grief. So he deemed that all was as well as it might +be with the Bride, and with a good heart fell to taking counsel with +the others; and kindly and friendly were the redes which they held +there, with no gainsaying of man by man, for the whole folk was glad +at heart. + +So there they ordered all matters duly for that present time, and by +then they had made an end, it was past sunset, and men were lodged in +the chief houses about the Market-stead. + +Albeit, though they ate their meat with all joy of heart, and were +merry in converse one with the other, the men of the Wolf would by no +means feast in their Hall again till it had been cleansed and +hallowed anew. + + + +CHAPTER LI. THE DEAD BORNE TO BALE: THE MOTE-HOUSE RE-HALLOWED + + + +On the morrow they bore to bale their slain men, and there withal +what was left of the bodies of the four chieftains of the Great +Undoing. They brought them into a most fair meadow to the west of +Silver-stead, where they had piled up a very great bale for the +burning. In that meadow was the Doom-ring and Thing-stead of the +Folk of the Wolf, and they had hallowed it when they had first +conquered Silver-dale, and it was deemed far holier than the Mote- +house aforesaid, wherein the men of the kindred might hold no due +court; but rather it was a Feast-hall, and a house where men had +converse together, and wherein precious things and tokens of the +Fathers were stored up. + +The Thing-stead in the meadow was flowery and well-grassed, and a +little stream winding about thereby nearly cast a ring around it; and +beyond the stream was a full fair grove of oak-trees, very tall and +ancient. There then they burned the dead of the Host, wrapped about +in exceeding fair raiment. And when the ashes were gathered, the men +of Burgdale and the Shepherds left those of their folk for the +kindred to bury there in Silver-dale; for they said that they had a +right to claim such guesting for them that had helped to win back the +Dale. + +But when the Burning was done and the bale quenched, and the ashes +gathered and buried (and that was on the morrow), then men bore forth +the Banners of the Jaws of the Wolf, and the Red Hand, and the Silver +Arm, and the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged Sword, and the Wolf of the +Woodland; and with great joy and triumph they brought them into the +Mote-house and hung them up over the dais; and they kindled fire on +the Holy Hearth by holding up a disk of bright glass to the sun; and +then they sang before the banners. And this is somewhat of the song +that they sang before them: + + +Why are ye wending? O whence and whither? + What shineth over the fallow swords? +What is the joy that ye bear in hither? + What is the tale of your blended words? + +No whither we wend, but here have we stayed us, + Here by the ancient Holy Hearth; +Long have the moons and the years delayed us, + But here are we come from the heart of the dearth. + +We are the men of joy belated; + We are the wanderers over the waste; +We are but they that sat and waited, + Watching the empty winds make haste. + +Long, long we sat and knew no others, + Save alien folk and the foes of the road; +Till late and at last we met our brothers, + And needs must we to the old abode. + +For once on a day they prayed for guesting; + And how were we then their bede to do? +Wild was the waste for the people's resting, + And deep the wealth of the Dale we knew. + +Here were the boards that we must spread them + Down in the fruitful Dale and dear; +Here were the halls where we would bed them: + And how should we tarry otherwhere? + +Over the waste we came together: + There was the tangle athwart the way; +There was the wind-storm and the weather; + The red rain darkened down the day. + +But that day of the days what grief should let us, + When we saw through the clouds the dale-glad sun? +We tore at the tangle that beset us, + And stood at peace when the day was done. + +Hall of the Happy, take our greeting! + Bid thou the Fathers come and see +The Folk-signs on thy walls a-meeting, + And deem to-day what men we be. + +Look on the Holy Hearth new-litten, + How the sparks fly twinkling up aloof! +How the wavering smoke by the sunlight smitten, + Curls up around the beam-rich roof! + +For here once more is the Wolf abiding, + Nor ever more from the Dale shall wend, +And never again his head be hiding, + Till all days be dark and the world have end. + + + +CHAPTER LII. OF THE NEW BEGINNING OF GOOD DAYS IN SILVER-DALE + + + +On the third day there was high-tide and great joy amongst all men +from end to end of the Dale; and the delivered thralls were feasted +and made much of by the kindreds, so that they scarce knew how to +believe their own five senses that told them the good tidings. + +For none strove to grieve them and torment them; what they would, +that did they, and they had all things plenteously; since for all was +there enough and to spare of goods stored up for the Dusky Men, as +corn and wine and oil and spices, and raiment and silver. Horses +were there also, and neat and sheep and swine in abundance. Withal +there was the good and dear land; the waxing corn on the acres; the +blossoming vines on the hillside; and about the orchards and +alongside the ways, the plum-trees and cherry-trees and pear-trees +that had cast their blossom and were overhung with little young +fruit; and the fair apple-trees a-blossoming, and the chestnuts +spreading their boughs from their twisted trunks over the green +grass. And there was the goodly pasture for the horses and the neat, +and the thymy hill-grass for the sheep; and beyond it all, the +thicket of the great wood, with its unfailing store of goodly timber +of ash and oak and holly and yoke-elm. There need no man lack unless +man compelled him, and all was rich enough and wide enough for the +waxing of a very great folk. + +Now, therefore, men betook them to what was their own before the +coming of the Dusky Men; and though at first many of the delivered +thrall-folk feasted somewhat above measure, and though there were +some of them who were not very brisk at working on the earth for +their livelihood; yet were the most part of them quick of wit and +deft of hand, and they mostly fell to presently at their cunning, +both of husbandry and handicraft. Moreover, they had great love of +the kindreds, and especially of the Woodlanders, and strove to do all +things that might pleasure them. And as for those who were dull and +listless because of their many torments of the last ten years, they +would at least fetch and carry willingly for them of the kindreds; +and these last grudged them not meat and raiment and house-room, even +if they wrought but little for it, because they called to mind the +evil days of their thralldom, and bethought them how few are men's +days upon the earth. + +Thus all things throve in Silver-dale, and the days wore on toward +the summer, and the Yule-tide rest beyond it, and the years beyond +and far beyond the winning of Silver-dale. + + + +CHAPTER LIII. OF THE WORD WHICH HALL-WARD OF THE STEER HAD FOR FOLK- +MIGHT + + + +But of the time then passing, it is to be said that the whole host +abode in Silver-dale in great mirth and good liking, till they should +hear tidings of Dallach and his company, who had followed hot-foot on +the fleers of the Dusky Men. And on the tenth day after the battle, +Iron-face and his two sons and Stone-face were sitting about sunset +under a great oak-tree by that stream-side which ran through the +Mote-stead; there also was Folk-might, somewhat distraught because of +his love for the Bride, who was now mending of her hurts. As they +sat there in all content they saw folk coming toward them, three in +number, and as they drew nigher they saw that it was old Hall-ward of +the Steer, and the Sun-beam and Bow-may following him hand in hand. + +When they came to the brook Bow-may ran up to the elder to help him +over the stepping-stones; which she did as one who loved him, as the +old man was stark enough to have waded the water waist-deep. She was +no longer in her war-gear, but was clad after her wont of Shadowy +Vale, in nought but a white woollen kirtle. So she stood in the +stream beside the stones, and let the swift water ripple up over her +ankles, while the elder leaned on her shoulder and looked down upon +her kindly. The Sun-beam followed after them, stepping daintily from +stone to stone, so that she was a fair sight to see; her face was +smiling and happy, and as she stepped forth on to the green grass the +colour flushed up in it, but she cast her eyes adown as one somewhat +shamefaced. + +So the chieftains rose up before the leader of the Steer, and Folk- +might went up to him, and greeted him, and took his hand and kissed +him on the cheek. And Hall-ward said: + +'Hail to the chiefs of the kindred, and my earthly friends!' + +Then Folk-might bade him sit down by him, and all the men sat down +again; but the Sun-beam leaned her back against a sapling ash hard +by, her feet set close together; and Bow-may went to and fro in short +turns, keeping well within ear-shot. + +Then said Hall-ward: 'Folk-might, I have prayed thy kinswoman Bow- +may to lead me to thee, that I might speak with thee; and it is good +that I find my kinsmen of the Face in thy company; for I would say a +word to thee that concerns them somewhat.' + +Said Folk-might: 'Guest, and warrior of the Steer, thy words are +ever good; and if this time thou comest to ask aught of me, then +shall they be better than good.' + +Said Hall-ward: 'Tell me, Folk-might, hast thou seen my daughter the +Bride to-day?' + +'Yea,' said Folk-might, reddening. + +'What didst thou deem of her state?' said Hall-ward. + +Said Folk-might: 'Thou knowest thyself that the fever hath left her, +and that she is mending.' + +Hall-ward said: 'In a few days belike we shall be wending home to +Burgdale: when deemest thou that the Bride may travel, if it were +but on a litter?' + +Folk-might was silent, and Hall-ward smiled on him and said: + +'Wouldst thou have her tarry, O chief of the Wolf?' + +'So it is,' said Folk-might, 'that it might be labour lost for her to +journey to Burgdale at present.' + +'Thinkest thou?' said Hall-ward; 'hast thou a mind then that if she +goeth she shall speedily come back hither?' + +'It has been in my mind,' said Folk-might, 'that I should wed her. +Wilt thou gainsay it? I pray thee, Iron-face my friend, and ye +Stone-face and Hall-face, and thou, Face-of-god, my brother, to lay +thy words to mine in this matter.' + +Then said Hall-ward stroking his beard: 'There will be a seat +missing in the Hall of the Steer, and a sore lack in the heart of +many a man in Burgdale if the Bride come back to us no more. We +looked not to lose the maiden by her wedding; for it is no long way +betwixt the House of the Steer and the House of the Face. But now, +when I arise in the morning and miss her, I shall take my staff and +walk down the street of Burgstead; for I shall say, The Maiden hath +gone to see Iron-face my friend; she is well in the House of the +Face. And then shall I remember how that the wood and the wastes lie +between us. How sayest thou, Alderman?' + +'A sore lack it will be,' said Iron-face; 'but all good go with her! +Though whiles shall I go hatless down Burgstead street, and say, Now +will I go fetch my daughter the Bride from the House of the Steer; +while many a day's journey shall lie betwixt us.' + +Said Hall-ward: 'I will not beat about the bush, Folk-might; what +gift wilt thou give us for the maiden?' + +Said Folk-might: 'Whatever is mine shall be thine; and whatsoever of +the Dale the kindred and the poor folk begrudge thee not, that shalt +thou have; and deemest thou that they will begrudge thee aught? Is +it enough?' + +Hall-ward said: 'I wot not, chieftain; see thou to it! Bow-may, my +friend, bring hither that which I would have from Silver-dale for the +House of the Steer in payment for our maiden.' + +Then Bow-may came forward speedily, and went up to the Sun-beam, and +led her by the hand in front of Folk-might and Hall-ward and the +other chieftains. Then Folk-might started, and leapt up from the +ground; for, sooth to say, he had been thinking so wholly of the +Bride, that his sister was not in his mind, and he had had no deeming +of whither Hall-ward was coming, though the others guessed well +enough, and now smiled on him merrily, when they saw how wild Folk- +might stared. As for the Sun-beam, she stood there blushing like a +rose in June, but looking her brother straight in the face, as Hall- +ward said: + +'Folk-might, chief of the Wolf, since thou wouldst take our maiden +the Bride away from us, I ask thee to make good her place with this +maiden; so that the House of the Steer may not lack, when they who +are wont to wed therein come to us and pray us for a bedfellow for +the best of their kindred.' + +Then became Folk-might smiling and merry like unto the others, and he +said: 'Chief of the Steer, this gift is thine, together with aught +else which thou mayst desire of us.' + +Then he kissed the Sun-beam, and said: 'Sister, we looked for this +to befall in some fashion. Yet we deemed that he that should lead +thee away might abide with us for a moon or two. But now let all +this be, since if thou art not to bear children to the kindreds of +Silver-dale, yet shalt thou bear them to their friends and fellows. +And now choose what gift thou wilt have of us to keep us in thy +memory.' + +She said: 'The memory of my people shall not fade from me; yet +indeed I ask thee for a gift, to wit, Bow-may, and the two sons of +Wood-father that are left since Wood-wicked was slain; and belike the +elder and his wife will be fain to go with their sons, and ye will +not hinder them.' + +'Even so shall it be done,' said Folk-might, and he was silent a +while, pondering; and then he said: + +'Lo you, friends! doth it not seem strange to you that peace +sundereth as well as war? Indeed I deem it grievous that ye shall +have to miss your well-beloved kinswoman. And for me, I am now grown +so used to this woman my sister, though at whiles she hath been +masterful with me, that I shall often turn about and think to speak +to her, when there lie long days of wood and waste betwixt her voice +and mine. + +The Sun-beam laughed in his face, though the tears stood in her eyes, +as she said: 'Keep up thine heart, brother; for at least the way is +shorter betwixt Burgdale and Silver-dale than betwixt life and death; +and the road we shall learn belike.' + +Said Hall-face: 'So it is that my brother is no ill woodman, as ye +learned last autumn.' + +Iron-face smiled, but somewhat sadly; for he beheld Face-of-god, who +had no eyes for anyone save the Sun-beam; and no marvel was that, for +never had she looked fairer. And forsooth the War-leader was not +utterly well-pleased; for he was deeming that there would be delaying +of his wedding, now that the Sun-beam was to become a maid of the +Steer; and in his mind he half deemed that it would be better if he +were to take her by the hand and lead her home through the wild-wood, +he and she alone; and she looked on him shyly, as though she had a +deeming of his thought. Albeit he knew it might not be, that he, the +chosen War-leader, should trouble the peace of the kindred; for he +wotted that all this was done for peace' sake. + +So Hall-ward stood forth and took the Sun-beam's right hand in his, +and said: + +'Now do I take this maiden, Sun-beam of the kindred of the Wolf, and +lead her into the House of the Steer, to be in all ways one of the +maidens of our House, and to wed in the blood wherein we have been +wont to wed. Neither from henceforth let anyone say that this woman +is not of the blood of the Steer; for we have given her our blood, +and she is of us duly and truly.' + +Thereafter they talked together merrily for a little, and then turned +toward the houses, for the sun was now down; and as they went Iron- +face spake to his son, and said: + +'Gold-mane, wilt thou verily keep thine oath to wed the fairest woman +in the world? By how much is this one fairer than my dear daughter +who shall no more dwell in mine house?' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Yea, father, I shall keep mine oath; for the +Gods, who know much, know that when I swore last Yule I was thinking +of the fair woman going yonder beside Hall-ward, and of none other.' + +'Ah, son!' said Iron-face, 'why didst thou beguile us? Hadst thou +but told us the truth then!' + +'Yea, Alderman,' said Face-of-god smiling, 'and how thou wouldest +have raged against me then, when thou hast scarce forgiven me now! +In sooth, father, I feared to tell you all: I was young; I was one +against the world. Yea, yea; and even that was sweet to me, so +sorely as I loved her--Hast thou forgotten, father?' + +Iron-face smiled, and answered not; and so came they to the house +wherein they were guested. + + + +CHAPTER LIV. TIDINGS OF DALLACH: A FOLK-MOTE IN SILVER-DALE + + + +Three days thereafter came two swift runners from Rose-dale with +tidings of Dallach. In all wise had he thriven, and had slain many +of the runaways, and had come happily to Rose-dale: therein by the +mere shaking of their swords had they all their will; for there were +but a few of the Dusky Warriors in the Dale, since the more part had +fared to the slaughter in Silver-stead. Now therefore had Dallach +been made Alderman of Rose-dale; and the Burgdalers who had gone with +him should abide the coming thither of the rest of the Burgdale Host, +and meantime of their coming should uphold the new Alderman in Rose- +dale. Howbeit Dallach sent word that it was not to be doubted but +that many of the Dusky Men had escaped to the woods, and should yet +be the death of many a mother's son, unless it were well looked to. + +And now the more part of the Burgdale men and the Shepherds began to +look toward home, albeit some amongst them had not been ill-pleased +to abide there yet a while; for life was exceeding soft to them +there, though they helped the poor folk gladly in their husbandry. +For especially the women of the Dale, of whom many were very goodly, +hankered after the fair-faced tall Burgdalers, and were as kind to +them as might be. Forsooth not a few, both carles and queens, of the +old thrall-folk prayed them of Burgdale to take them home thither, +that they might see new things and forget their old torments once for +all, yea, even in dreams. The Burgdalers would not gainsay them, and +there was no one else to hinder; so that there went with the Burgdale +men at their departure hard on five score of the Silver-dale folk who +were not of the kindreds. + +And now was a great Folk-mote holden in Silver-dale, whereto the +Burgdale men and the Shepherds were bidden; and thereat the War- +leader gave out the morrow of the morrow for the day of the departure +of the Host. There also were the matters of Silver-dale duly +ordered: the Men of the Wolf would have had the Woodlanders dwell +with them in the fair-builded stead, and take to them of the goodly +stone houses there what they would; but this they naysaid, choosing +rather to dwell in scattered houses, which they built for themselves +at the utmost limit of the tillage. + +Indeed, the most abode not even there a long while; for they loved +the wood and its deeds. So they went forth into the wood, and +cleared them space to dwell in, and builded them halls such as they +loved, and fell to their old woodland crafts of charcoal-burning and +hunting, wherein they throve well. And good for Silver-dale was +their abiding there, since they became a sure defence and stout +outpost against all foemen. For the rest, wheresoever they dwelt, +they were guest-cherishing and blithe, and were well beloved by all +people; and they wedded with the other Houses of the Children of the +Wolf. + +As to the other matters whereof they took rede at this Folk-mote, +they had mostly to do with the warding of the Dale, and the learning +of the delivered thralls to handle weapons duly. For men deemed it +most like that they would have to meet other men of the kindred of +the Felons; which indeed fell out as the years wore. + +Moreover, Folk-might (by the rede of Stone-face) sent messengers to +the Plain and the Cities, unto men whom he knew there, doing them to +wit of the tidings of Silver-dale, and how that a peaceful and guest- +loving people, having good store of wares, now dwelt therein, so that +chapmen might have recourse thither. + +Lastly spake Folk-might and said: + +'Guests and brothers-in-arms, we have been looking about our new +house, which was our old one, and therein we find great store of +wares which we need not, and which we can but use if ye use them. Of +your kindness therefore we pray you to take of those things what ye +can easily carry. And if ye say the way is long, as indeed it is, +since ye are bent on going through the wood to Rose-dale, and so on +to Burgdale, yet shall we furnish you with beasts to bear your goods, +and with such wains as may pass through the woodland ways.' + +Then rose up Fox of Upton and said: 'O Folk-might, and ye men of the +Wolf, be it known unto you, that if we have done anything for your +help in the winning of Silver-dale, we have thus done that we might +help ourselves also, so that we might live in peace henceforward, and +that we might have your friendship and fellowship therewithal, so +that here in Silver-dale might wax a mighty folk who joined unto us +should be strong enough to face the whole world. Such are the redes +of wise men when they go a-warring. But we have no will to go back +home again made rich with your wealth; this hath been far from our +thought in this matter.' + +And there went up a murmur from all the Burgdalers yeasaying his +word. + +But Folk-might took up the word again and spake: + +'Men of Burgdale and the Sheepcotes, what ye say is both manly and +friendly; yet, since we look to see a road made plain through the +woodland betwixt Burgdale and Silver-dale, and that often ye shall +face us in the feast-hall, and whiles stand beside us in the fray, we +must needs pray you not to shame us by departing empty-handed; for +how then may we look upon your faces again? Stone-face, my friend, +thou art old and wise; therefore I bid thee to help us herein, and +speak for us to thy kindred, that they naysay us not in this matter.' + +Then stood up Stone-face and said: 'Forsooth, friends, Folk-might is +in the right herein; for he may look for anger from the wights that +come and go betwixt his kindred and the Gods, if they see us faring +back giftless through the woods. Moreover, now that ye have seen +Silver-dale, ye may wot how rich a land it is of all good things, and +able to bring forth enough and to spare. And now meseemeth the Gods +love this Folk that shall dwell here; and they shall become a mighty +Folk, and a part of our very selves. Therefore let us take the gifts +of our friends, and thank them blithely. For surely, as saith Folk- +might, henceforth the wood shall become a road betwixt us, and the +thicket a halting-place for friends bearing goodwill in their hands.' + +When he had spoken, men yeasaid his words and forbore the gifts no +longer; and the Folk-mote sundered in all loving-kindness. + + + +CHAPTER LV. DEPARTURE FROM SILVER-DALE + + + +On morrow of the morrow were the Burgdale men and they of the +Shepherds gathered together in the Market-stead early in the morning, +and they were all ready for departure; and the men of the Wolf and +the Woodlanders, and of the delivered thralls a great many, stood +round about them grieving that they must go. There was much talk +between the folk of the Dale and the Guests, and many promises were +given and taken to come and go betwixt the two Dales. There also +were the men of the thrall-folk who were to wend home with the +Burgdalers; and they had been stuffed with good things by the men of +the kindreds, and were as fain as might be. + +As for the Sun-beam, she was somewhat out of herself at first, being +eager and restless beyond her wont, and yet at whiles weeping-ripe +when she called to mind that she was now leaving all those things, +the gain whereof had been a dream to her both waking and sleeping for +these years past. But at last, as she stood in the door of the Mote- +house, and beheld all the throng of folk happy and friendly, it came +over her that she herself had done her full share to bring all this +about, and that all those pleasant places of Silver-dale now full of +the goodly life of man would be there even as she had striven for +them, and that they would be a part of her left behind, though she +were dwelling otherwhere. + +Therewithal she said to herself that it was now her part to wield the +life of men in Burgdale, and begin once more her days of a chieftain +and a swayer of the Folk, and the life of a stirring woman, which the +edge of the sword and the need of the hard hand-play had taken out of +her hands for a while, making her as a child in the hands of the +strong wielders of the blades. + +So now she became calm once more, and her face was clad again with +the full measure of that majesty of beauty which had once overawed +Face-of-god amidst his love of her; and folk beheld her and marvelled +at her fairness, and said: 'She hath an inward sorrow at leaving the +fair Dale wherein her Fathers dwelt, and where her mother's ashes lie +in earth.' Albeit now was her sorrow but little, and much was her +hope, and her foresight of days to be; though all the Dale, yea, +every leaf and twig of it whereby her feet had ever passed, and each +stone of the fair houses, was to her as a picture that she could look +on from henceforth for ever. + +Of the Bride it is to be said that she was now much mended, and she +caused men bear her on a litter out into the Marketplace, that she +might look on the departure of her folk. She had seen Face-of-god +once and again since the Day of Battle, and each time had been kind +and blithe with him; and for Iron-face, she loved him so well that +she was ever loth to let him depart from her, save when Folk-might +was with her. + +And now was the Alderman standing beside her, and she said to him: +'Friend and kinsman, this is the day of departure, and though I must +needs abide behind, and am content to abide, yet doth mine heart ache +with the sundering; for to-morrow when I wake in the morning there +will be no more sending of a messenger to fetch thee to me. Indeed, +great hath been the love between me and my people, and nought hath +come between us to mar it. Now, kinsman, I would see Gold-mane, my +cousin, that I may bid him farewell; for who knoweth if I shall see +him again hereafter?' + +Then went Iron-face and found Face-of-god where he was speaking with +Folk-might and the chieftains, and said to him: + +'Come quickly, for thy cousin the Bride would speak with thee.' + +Face-of-god reddened, and paled afterwards, but he went along with +his father silently; and his heart beat as he came and stood before +the litter whereas the Bride lay, clad all in white and propped up on +fair cushions of red silk. She was frail to look on, and worn and +pale yet; but he deemed that she was very happy. + +She smiled on him, and reached out her hand and said: + +'Welcome once more, cousin!' And he held her hand and kissed it, and +was nigh weeping, so sore was he beset by a throng of memories +concerning her and him in the days when they were little; and he +bethought him of her loving-kindness of past days, beyond that of +most children, beyond that of most maidens; and how there was nothing +in his life but she had a share in it, till the day when he found the +Hall on the Mountain. + +So he said to her: 'Kinswoman, is it well with thee?' + +'Yea,' she said, 'I am now nigh whole of my hurts.' + +He was silent a while; then he said: + +'And otherwise art thou merry at heart?' + +'Yea, indeed,' said she; 'yet thou wilt not find it hard to deem that +I am sorry of the sundering betwixt me and Burgdale.' + +Again was he silent, and said in a while: 'Dost thou deem that I +wrought that sundering?' + +She smiled kindly on him and said: 'Gold-mane, my playmate, thou art +become a mighty warrior and a great chief; but thou art not so mighty +as that. Many things lay behind the sundering which were neither +thou nor I.' + +'Yet,' said he, 'it was but such a little time agone that all things +seemed so sure; and we--to both of us was the outlook happy.' + +'Let it be happy still,' she said, 'now begrudging is gone. Belike +the sundering came because we were so sure, and had no defence +against the wearing of the days; even as it fareth with a folk that +hath no foes.' + +He smiled and said: 'Even as it hath befallen THY folk, O Bride, a +while ago.' + +She reddened, and reached her hand to him, and he took it and held +it, and said: 'Shall I see thee again as the days wear?' + +Said she: 'O chieftain of the Folk, thou shalt have much to do in +Burgdale, and the way is long. Yet would I have thee see my +children. Forget not the token on my hand which thou holdest. But +now get thee to thy folk with no more words; for after all, playmate, +the sundering is grievous to me, and I would not spin out the time +thereof. Farewell!' + +He said no more, but stooped down and kissed her lips, and then +turned from her, and took his ways to the head of the Host, and fell +to asking and answering, and bidding and arraying; and in a little +time was his heart dancing with joy to think of the days that lay +before him, wherein now all seemed happy. + +So was all arrayed for departure when it lacked three hours of noon. +As Folk-might had promised, there were certain light wains drawn by +bullocks abiding the departure of the Host, and of sumpter bullocks +and horses no few; and all these were laden with fair gifts of the +Dale, as silver, and raiment, and weapons. There were many things +fair-wrought in the time of the Sorrow, that henceforth should see +but little sorrow. Moreover, there was plenty of provision for the +way, both meal and wine, and sheep and neat; and all things as fair +as might be, and well-arrayed. + +It was the Shepherds who were to lead the way; and after them were +arrayed the men of the Vine and the Sickle; then they of the Steer, +the Bridge, and the Bull; and lastly the House of the Face, with old +Stone-face leading them. The Sun-beam was to journey along with the +House of the Steer, which had taken her in as a maiden of their +blood; and though she had so much liefer have fared with the House of +the Face, yet she went meekly as she was bidden, as one who has +gotten a great thing, and will make no stir about a small one. + +Along with her were Wood-father and Wood-mother, and Wood-wise, now +whole of his hurt, and Wood-wont, and Bow-may. Save Bow-may, they +were not very joyous; for they were fain of Silver-dale, and it irked +them to leave it; moreover, they also had liefer have gone along with +the House of the War-leader. + +Last of all went those people of the once thralls of the Dusky Men +who had cast in their lot with the Burgdalers, and they were +exceeding merry; and especially the women of them, they were +chattering like the stares in the autumn evening, when they gather +from the fields in the tall elm-trees before they go to roost. + +Now all the men of the Dale, both of the kindreds and of the thrall- +folk, made way for the Host and its havings, that they might go their +ways down the Dale; albeit the Woodlanders clung close to the line of +their ancient friends, and with them, as men who were sorry for the +sundering, were Wolf-stone and God-swain and Spear-fist. But the +chiefs, they drew around Folk-might a little beside the way. + +Now Red-coat of Waterless, who had been hurt, and was now whole +again, cast his arms about Folk-might and kissed him, and said: + +'All the way hence to Burgdale will I sow with good wishes for thee +and thine, and especially for my dear friend God-swain of the Silver +Arm; and I would wish and long that they might turn into spells to +draw thy feet to usward; for we love thee well.' + +In like wise spake other of the Burgdalers; and Folk-might was kind +and blithe with them, and he said: + +'Friends, forget ye not that the way is no longer from you to us than +it is from us to you. One half of this matter it is for you to deal +with.' + +'True is that,' said Red-beard of the Knolls, 'but look you, Folk- +might, we be but simple husbandmen, and may not often stir from our +meadows and acres; even now I bethink me that May is amidst us, and I +am beginning to be drawn by the thought of the haysel. Whereas thou- +-' (and therewith he reddened) 'I doubt that thou hast little to do +save the work of chieftains, and we know that such work is but little +missed if it be undone.' + +Thereat Folk-might laughed; and when the others saw that he laughed, +they laughed also, else had they foreborne for courtesy's sake. + +But Folk-might answered: 'Nay, chief of the Sickle, I am not +altogether a chieftain, now we have gotten us peace; and somewhat of +a husbandman shall I be. Moreover, doubt ye not that I shall do my +utmost to behold the fair Dale again; for it is but mountains that +meet not.' + +Now spake Face-of-god to Folk-might, smiling and somewhat softly, and +said: 'Is all forgiven now, since the day when we first felt each +other's arms?' + +'Yea, all,' said Folk-might; 'now hath befallen what I foretold thee +in Shadowy Vale, that thou mightest pay for all that had come and +gone, if thou wouldest but look to it. Indeed thou wert angry with +me for that saying on that eve of Shadowy Vale; but see thou, in +those days I was an older man than thou, and might admonish thee +somewhat; but now, though but few days have gone over thine head, yet +many deeds have abided in thine hand, and thou art much aged. Anger +hath left thee, and wisdom hath waxed in thee. As for me, I may now +say this word: May the Folk of Burgdale love the Folk of Silver-dale +as well as I love thee; then shall all be well.' + +Then Face-of-god cast his arms about him and kissed him, and turned +away toward Stone-face and Hall-face his brother, where they stood at +the head of the array of the Face; and even therewith came up the +Alderman somewhat sad and sober of countenance, and he pushed by the +War-leader roughly and would not speak with him. + +And now blew up the horns of the Shepherds, and they began to move on +amidst the shouting of the men of Silver-dale; yet were there amongst +the Woodlanders those who wept when they saw their friends verily +departing from them. + +But when they of the foremost of the Host were gotten so far forward +that the men of the Face could begin to move, lo! there was Redesman +with his fiddle amongst the leaders; and he had done a man's work in +the day of battle, and all looked kindly on him. About him on this +morn were some who had learned the craft of singing well together, +and knew his minstrelsy, and he turned to these and nodded as their +array moved on, and he drew his bow across the strings, and +straightway they fell a-singing, even as it might be thus: + + +Back again to the dear Dale where born was the kindred, + Here wend we all living, and liveth our mirth. +Here afoot fares our joyance, whatever men hindred, + Through all wrath of the heavens, all storms of the earth. + +O true, we have left here a part of our treasure, + The ashes of stout ones, the stems of the shield; +But the bold lives they spended have sown us new pleasure, + Fair tales for the telling in fold and on field. + +For as oft as we sing of their edges' upheaving, + When the yellowing windows shine forth o'er the night, +Their names unforgotten with song interweaving + Shall draw forth dear drops from the depths of delight. + +Or when down by our feet the grey sickles are lying, + And behind us is curling the supper-tide smoke, +No whit shall they grudge us the joyance undying, + Remembrance of men that put from us the yoke. + +When the huddle of ewes from the fells we have driven, + And we see down the Dale the grey reach of the roof, +We shall tell of the gift in the battle-joy given, + All the fierceness of friends that drave sorrow aloof. + +Once then we lamented, and mourned them departed; + Once only, no oftener. Henceforth shall we fling +Their names up aloft, when the merriest hearted + To the Fathers unseen of our life-days we sing. + + +Then was there silence in the ranks of men; and many murmured the +names of the fallen as they fared on their way from out the Market- +place of Silver-stead. Then once more Redesman and his mates took up +the song: + + +Come tell me, O friends, for whom bideth the maiden + Wet-foot from the river-ford down in the Dale? +For whom hath the goodwife the ox-waggon laden + With the babble of children, brown-handed and hale? + +Come tell me for what are the women abiding, + Till each on the other aweary they lean? +Is it loitering of evil that thus they are chiding, + The slow-footed bearers of sorrow unseen? + +Nay, yet were they toiling if sorrow had worn them, + Or hushed had they bided with lips parched and wan. +The birds of the air other tidings have borne them - + How glad through the wood goeth man beside man. + +Then fare forth, O valiant, and loiter no longer + Than the cry of the cuckoo when May is at hand; +Late waxeth the spring-tide, and daylight grows longer, + And nightly the star-street hangs high o'er the land. + +Many lives, many days for the Dale do ye carry; + When the Host breaketh out from the thicket unshorn, +It shall be as the sun that refuseth to tarry + On the crown of all mornings, the Midsummer morn. + + +Again the song fell down till they were well on the western way down +Silver-dale; and then Redesman handled his fiddle once more, and +again the song rose up, and such-like were the words which were borne +back into the Market-place of Silver-stead: + + +And yet what is this, and why fare ye so slowly, + While our echoing halls of our voices are dumb, +And abideth unlitten the hearth-brand the holy, + And the feet of the kind fare afield till we come? + +For not yet through the wood and its tangle ye wander; + Now skirt we no thicket, no path by the mere; +Far aloof for our feet leads the Dale-road out yonder; + Full fair is the morning, its doings all clear. + +There is nought now our feet on the highway delaying + Save the friend's loving-kindness, the sundering of speech; +The well-willer's word that ends words with the saying, + The loth to depart while each looketh on each. + +Fare on then, for nought are ye laden with sorrow; + The love of this land do ye bear with you still. +In two Dales of the earth for to-day and to-morrow + Is waxing the oak-tree of peace and good-will. + + +Thus then they departed from Silver-dale, even as men who were a +portion thereof, and had not utterly left it behind. And that night +they lay in the wild-wood not very far from the Dale's end; for they +went softly, faring amongst so many friends. + + + +CHAPTER LVI. TALK UPON THE WILD-WOOD WAY + + + +On the morrow morning when they were on their way again Face-of-god +left his own folk to go with the House of the Steer a while; and +amongst them he fell in with the Sun-beam going along with Bow-may. +So they greeted him kindly, and Face-of-god fell into talk with the +Sun-beam as they went side by side through a great oak-wood, where +for a space was plain green-sward bare of all underwood. + +So in their talk he said to her: 'What deemest thou, my speech- +friend, concerning our coming back to guest in Silver-dale one day?' + +'The way is long,' she said. + +'That may hinder us but not stay us,' said Face-of-god. + +'That is sooth,' said the Sun-beam. + +Said Face-of-god: 'What things shall stay us? Or deemest thou that +we shall never see Silver-dale again?' + +She smiled: 'Even so I think thou deemest, Gold-mane. But many +things shall hinder us besides the long road.' + +Said he: 'Yea, and what things?' + +'Thinkest thou,' said the Sun-beam, 'that the winning of Silver-stead +is the last battle which thou shalt see?' + +'Nay,' said he, 'nay.' + +'Shall thy Dale--our Dale--be free from all trouble within itself +henceforward? Is there a wall built round it to keep out for ever +storm, pestilence, and famine, and the waywardness of its own folk?' + +'So it is as thou sayest,' quoth Face-of-god, 'and to meet such +troubles and overcome them, or to die in strife with them, this is a +great part of a man's life.' + +'Yea,' she said, 'and hast thou forgotten that thou art now a great +chieftain, and that the folk shall look to thee to use thee many days +in the year?' + +He laughed and said: 'So it is. How many days have gone by since I +wandered in the wood last autumn, that the world should have changed +so much!' + +'Many deeds shall now be in thy days,' she said, 'and each deed as +the corn of wheat from which cometh many corns; and a man's days on +the earth are not over many.' + +'Then farewell, Silver-dale!' said he, waving his hand toward the +north. 'War and trouble may bring me back to thee, but it maybe +nought else shall. Farewell!' + +She looked on him fondly but unsmiling, as he went beside her strong +and warrior-like. Three paces from him went Bow-may, barefoot, in +her white kirtle, but bearing her bow in her hand; a leash of arrows +was in her girdle, her quiver hung at her back, and she was girt with +a sword. On the other side went Wood-wont and Wood-wise, lightly +clad but weaponed. Wood-mother was riding in an ox-wain just behind +them, and Wood-father went beside her bearing an axe. Scattered all +about them were the men of the Steer, gaily clad, bearing weapons, so +that the oak-wood was bright with them, and the glades merry with +their talk and singing and laughter, and before them down the glades +went the banner of the Steer, and the White Beast led them the +nearest way to Burgdale. + + + +CHAPTER LVII. HOW THE HOST CAME HOME AGAIN + + + +It was fourteen days before they came to Rose-dale; for they had much +baggage with them, and they had no mind to weary themselves, and the +wood was nothing loathsome to them, whereas the weather was fair and +bright for the more part. They fell in with no mishap by the way. +But a score and three of runaways joined themselves to the Host, +having watched their goings and wotting that they were not foemen. +Of these, some had heard of the overthrow of the Dusky Men in Silver- +dale, and others not. The Burgdalers received them all, for it +seemed to them no great matter for a score or so of new-comers to the +Dale. + +But when the Host was come to Rose-dale, they found it fair arid +lovely; and there they met with those of their folk who had gone with +Dallach. But Dallach welcomed the kindreds with great joy, and bade +them abide; for he said that they had the less need to hasten, since +he had sent messengers into Burgdale to tell men there of the +tidings. Albeit they were mostly loth to tarry; yet when he lay hard +on them not to depart as men on the morrow of a gild-feast, they +abode there three days, and were as well guested as might be, and on +their departure they were laden with gifts from the wealth of Rose- +dale by Dallach and his folk. + +Before they went their ways Dallach spake with Face-of-god and the +chiefs of the Dalesmen, and said: + +'Ye have given me much from the time when ye found me in the wood a +naked wastrel; yet now I would ask you a gift to lay on the top of +all that ye have given me.' + +Said Face-of-god: 'Name the gift, and thou shalt have it; for we +deem thee our friend.' + +'I am no less,' said Dallach, 'as in time to come I may perchance be +able to show you. But now I am asking you to suffer a score or two +of your men to abide here with me this summer, till I see how this +folk new-born again is like to deal with me. For pleasure and a fair +life have become so strange to them, that they scarce know what to do +with them, or how to live; and unless all is to go awry, I must needs +command and forbid; and though belike they love me, yet they fear me +not; so that when my commandment pleaseth them, they do as I bid, and +when it pleaseth them not, they do contrary to my bidding; for it +hath got into their minds that I shall in no case lift a hand against +them, which indeed is the very sooth. But your folk they fear as +warriors of the world, who have slain the Dusky Men in the Market- +place of Silver-stead; and they are of alien blood to them, men who +will do as their friend biddeth (think our folk) against them who are +neither friends or foes. With such help I shall be well holpen.' + +In such wise spake Dallach; and Face-of-god and the chiefs said that +so it should be, if men could be found willing to abide in Rose-dale +for a while. And when the matter was put abroad, there was no lack +of such men amongst the younger warriors, who had noted that the dale +was fair amongst dales and its women fairer yet amongst women. + +So two score and ten of the Burgdale men abode in Rose-dale, no one +of whom was of more than twenty and five winters. Forsooth divers of +them set up house in Rose-dale, and never came back to Burgdale, save +as guests. For a half score were wedded in Rose-dale before the +year's ending; and seven more, who had also taken to them wives of +the goodliest of the Rose-dale women, betook them the next spring to +the Burg of the Runaways, and there built them a stead, and drew a +garth about it, and dug and sowed the banks of the river, which they +called Inglebourne. And as years passed, this same stead throve +exceedingly, and men resorted thither both from Rose-dale and +Burgdale; for it was a pleasant place; and the land, when it was +cured, was sweet and good, and the wood thereabout was full of deer +of all kinds. So their stead was called Inglebourne after the +stream; and in latter days it became a very goodly habitation of men. + +Moreover, some of the once-enthralled folk of Rose-dale, when they +knew that men of their kindred from Silver-dale were going home with +the men of Burgdale to dwell in the Dale, prayed hard to go along +with them; for they looked on the Burgdalers as if they were new Gods +of the Earth. The Burgdale chiefs would not gainsay these men +either, but took with them three score and ten from Rose-dale, men +and women, and promised them dwelling and livelihood in Burgdale. + +So now with good hearts the Host of Burgdale turned their faces +toward their well-beloved Dale; and they made good diligence, so that +in three days' time they were come anigh the edge of the woodland +wilderness. Thither in the even-tide, as they were making ready for +their last supper and bed in the wood, came three men and two women +of their folk, who had been abiding their coming ever since they had +had the tidings of Silver-dale and the battles from Dallach. Great +was the joy of these messengers as they went from company to company +of the warriors, and saw the familiar faces of their friends, and +heard their wonted voices telling all the story of battle and +slaughter. And for their part the men of the Host feasted these +stay-at-homes, and made much of them. But one of them, a man of the +House of the Face, left the Host a little after nightfall, and bore +back to Burgstead at once the tidings of the coming home of the Host. +Albeit since Dallach's tidings of victory had come to the Dale, the +dwellers in the steads of the country-side had left Burgstead and +gone home to their own houses; so that there was no great multitude +abiding in the Thorp. + +So early on the morrow was the Host astir; but ere they came to +Wildlake's Way, the Shepherd-folk turned aside westward to go home, +after they had bidden farewell to their friends and fellows of the +Dale; for their souls longed for the sheepcotes in the winding +valleys under the long grey downs; and the garths where the last +year's ricks shouldered up against the old stone gables, and where +the daws were busy in the tall unfrequent ash-trees; and the green +flowery meadows adown along the bright streams, where the crowfoot +and the paigles were blooming now, and the harebells were in flower +about the thorn-bushes at the down's foot, whence went the savour of +their blossom over sheep-walk and water-meadow. + +So these went their ways with many kind words; and two hours +afterwards all the rest of the Host stood on the level ground of the +Portway; but presently were the ranks of war disordered and broken up +by the joy of the women and children, as they fell to drawing goodman +or brother or lover out of the throng to the way that led speediest +to their homesteads and halls. For the War-leader would not hold the +Host together any longer, but suffered each man to go to his home, +deeming that the men of Burgstead, and chiefly they of the Face and +the Steer, would suffice for a company if any need were, and they +would be easily gathered to meet any hap. + +So now the men of the Middle and Lower Dale made for their houses by +the road and the lanes and the meadows, and the men of the Upper Dale +and Burgstead went their ways along the Portway toward their halls, +with the throng of women and children that had come out to meet them. +And now men came home when it was yet early, and the long day lay +before them; and it was, as it were, made giddy and cumbered with the +exceeding joy of return, and the thought of the day when the fear of +death and sundering had been ever in their hearts. For these new +hours were full of the kissing and embracing of lovers, and the +sweetness of renewed delight in beholding the fair bodies so sorely +desired, and hearkening the soft wheedling of longed-for voices. +There were the cups of friends beneath the chestnut trees, and the +talk of the deeds of the fighting-men, and of the heavy days of the +home-abiders; many a tale told oft and o'er again. There was the +singing of old songs and of new, and the beholding the well-loved +nook of the pleasant places, which death might well have made nought +for them; and they were sweet with the fear of that which was past, +and in their pleasantness was fresh promise for the days to come. + +So amid their joyance came evening and nightfall; and though folk +were weary with the fulness of delight, yet now for many their +weariness led them to the chamber of love before the rest of deep +night came to them to make them strong for the happy life to be begun +again on the morrow. + +House by house they feasted, and few were the lovers that sat not +together that even. But Face-of-god and the Sun-beam parted at the +door of the House of the Face; for needs must she go with her new +folk to the House of the Steer, and needs must Face-of-god be amongst +his own folk in that hour of high-tide, and sit beside his father +beneath the image of the God with the ray-begirt head. + + + +CHAPTER LVIII. HOW THE MAIDEN WARD WAS HELD IN BURGDALE + + + +Now May was well worn when the Host came home to Burgdale; and on the +very morrow of men's home-coming they began to talk eagerly of the +Midsummer Weddings, and how the Maiden Ward would be the greatest and +fairest of all yet seen, whereas battle and the deliverance from +battle stir up the longing and love both of men and maidens; much +also men spake of the wedding of Face-of-god and the Sun-beam; and +needs must their wedding abide to the time of the Maiden Ward at +Midsummer, and needs also must the Sun-beam go on the Ward with the +other Brides of the Folk. So then must Face-of-god keep his soul in +patience till those few days were over, doing what work came to hand; +and he held his head high among the people, and was well looked to of +every man. + +In all matters the Sun-beam helped him, both in doing and in +forbearing; and now so wonderful and rare was her beauty, that folk +looked on her with somewhat of fear, as though she came from the very +folk of the Gods. + +Indeed she seemed somewhat changed from what she had been of late; +she was sober of demeanour during these last days of her maidenhood, +and sat amongst the kindred as one communing with herself: of few +words she was and little laughter; but her face clear, not overcast +by any gloom or shaken by passion: soft and kind was she in converse +with others, and sweet were the smiles that came into her face if +others' faces seemed to crave for them. For it must be said that as +some folk eat out their hearts with fear of the coming evils, even so +was she feeding her soul with the joy of the days to be, whatever +trouble might fall upon them, whereof belike she foreboded some. + +So wore the days toward Midsummer, when the wheat was getting past +the blossoming, and the grass in the mown fields was growing deep +green again after the shearing of the scythe; when the leaves were +most and biggest; when the roses were beginning to fall; when the +apples were reddening, and the skins of the grape-berries gathering +bloom. High aloft floated the light clouds over the Dale; deep blue +showed the distant fells below the ice-mountains; the waters +dwindled; all things sought the shadow by daytime, and the twilight +of even and the twilight of dawn were but sundered by three hours of +half-dark night. + +So in the bright forenoon were seventeen brides assembled in the Gate +of Burgstead (but of the rest of the Dale were twenty and three +looked for), and with these was the Sun-beam, her face as calm as the +mountain lake under a summer sunset, while of the others many were +restless, and babbling like April throstles; and not a few talked to +her eagerly, and in their restless love of her dragged her about +hither and thither. + +No men were to be seen that morning; for such was the custom, that +the carles either departed to the fields and the acres, or abode +within doors on the morn of the day of the Maiden Ward; but there was +a throng of women about the Gate and down the street of Burgstead, +and it may well be deemed that they kept not silence that hour. + +So fared the Brides of Burgstead to the place of the Maiden Ward on +the causeway, whereto were come already the other brides from steads +up and down the Dale, or were even then close at hand on the way; and +among them were Long-coat and her two fellows, with whom Face-of-god +had held converse on that morning whereon he had followed his fate to +the Mountain. + +There then were they gathered under the cliff-wall of the Portway; +and by the road-side had their grooms built them up bowers of green +boughs to shelter them from the sun's burning, which were thatched +with bulrushes, and decked with garlands of the fairest flowers of +the meadows and the gardens. + +Forsooth they were a lovely sight to look on, for no fairer women +might be seen in the world; and the eldest of them was scant of five +and twenty winters. Every maiden was clad in as goodly raiment as +she might compass; their sleeves and gown-hems and girdles, yea, +their very shoes and sandals were embroidered so fairly and closely, +that as they shifted in the sun they changed colour like the king- +fisher shooting from shadow to sunshine. According to due custom +every maiden bore some weapon. A few had bows in their hands and +quivers at their backs; some had nought but a sword girt to their +sides; some bore slender-shafted spears, so as not to overburden +their shapely hands; but to some it seemed a merry game to carry long +and heavy thrust-spears, or to bear great war-axes over their +shoulders. Most had their flowing hair coifed with bright helms; +some had burdened their arms with shields; some bore steel hauberks +over their linen smocks: almost all had some piece of war-gear on +their bodies; and one, to wit, Steed-linden of the Sickle, a tall and +fair damsel, was so arrayed that no garment could be seen on her but +bright steel war-gear. + +As for the Sun-beam, she was clad in a white kirtle embroidered from +throat to hem with work of green boughs and flowers of the goodliest +fashion, and a garland of roses on her head. Dale-warden himself was +girt to her side by a girdle fair-wrought of golden wire, and she +bore no other weapon or war-gear; and she let him lie quiet in his +scabbard, nor touched the hilts once; whereas some of the other +damsels would be ever drawing their swords out and thrusting them +back. But all noted that goodly weapon, the yoke-fellow of so many +great deeds. + +There then on the Portway, between the water and the rock-wall, rose +up plenteous and gleeful talk of clear voices shrill and soft; and +whiles the maidens sang, and whiles they told tales of old days, and +whiles they joined hands and danced together on the sweet summer dust +of the highway. Then they mostly grew aweary, and sat down on the +banks of the road or under their leafy bowers. + +Noon came, and therewithal goodwives of the neighbouring Dale, who +brought them meat and drink, and fruit and fresh flowers from the +teeming gardens; and thereafter for a while they nursed their joy in +their bosoms, and spake but little and softly while the day was at +its hottest in the early afternoon. + +Then came out of Burgstead men making semblance of chapmen with a +wain bearing wares, and they made as though they were wending down +the Portway westward to go out of the Dale. Then arose the weaponed +maidens and barred the way to them, and turned them back amidst +fresh-springing merriment. + +Again in a while, when the sun was westering and the shadows growing +long, came herdsmen from down the Dale driving neat, and making as +though they would pass by into Burgstead, but to them also did the +maidens gainsay the road, so that needs must they turn back amidst +laughter and mockery, they themselves also laughing and mocking. + +And so at last, when the maidens had been all alone a while, and it +was now hard on sunset, they drew together and stood in a ring, and +fell to singing; and one Gold-may of the House of the Bridge, a most +sweet singer, stood amidst their ring and led them. And this is +somewhat of the meaning of their words: + + +The sun will not tarry; now changeth the light, +Fail the colours that marry the Day to the Night. + +Amid the sun's burning bright weapons we bore, +For this eve of our earning comes once and no more. + +For to-day hath no brother in yesterday's tide, +And to-morrow no other alike it doth hide. + +This day is the token of oath and behest +That ne'er shall be broken through ill days and best. + +Here the troth hath been given, the oath hath been done, +To the Folk that hath thriven well under the sun. + +And the gifts of its giving our troth-day shall win +Are the Dale for our living and dear days therein. + +O Sun, now thou wanest! yet come back and see +Amidst all that thou gainest how gainful are we. + +O witness of sorrow wide over the earth, +Rise up on the morrow to look on our mirth! + +Thy blooms art thou bringing back ever for men, +And thy birds are a-singing each summer again. + +But to men little-hearted what winter is worse +Than thy summers departed that bore them the curse? + +And e'en such art thou knowing where thriveth the year, +And good is all growing save thralldom and fear. + +Nought such be our lovers' hearts drawing anigh, +While yet thy light hovers aloft in the sky. + +Lo the seeker, the finder of Death in the Blade! +What lips shall be kinder on lips of mine laid? + +La he that hath driven back tribes of the South! +Sweet-breathed is thine even, but sweeter his mouth. + +Come back from the sea then, O sun! come aback, +Look adown, look on me then, and ask what I lack! + +Come many a morrow to gaze on the Dale, +And if e'er thou seest sorrow remember its tale! + +For 'twill be of a story to tell how men died +In the garnering of glory that no man may hide. + +O sun sinking under! O fragrance of earth! +O heart! O the wonder whence longing has birth! + + +So they sang, and the sun sank indeed; and amidst their singing the +eve was still about them, though there came a happy murmur from the +face of the meadows and the houses of the Thorp aloof. But as their +song fell they heard the sound of footsteps a many on the road; so +they turned and stood with beating hearts in such order as when a +band of the valiant draw together to meet many foes coming on them +from all sides, and they stand back to back to face all comers. And +even therewith, their raiment gleaming amidst the gathering dusk, +came on them the young men of the Dale newly delivered from the grief +of war. + +Then in very deed the fierce mouths of the raisers of the war-shout +were kind on the faces of tender maidens. Then went spear and axe +and helm and shield clattering to the earth, as the arms of the new- +comers went round about the bodies of the Brides, weary with the long +day of sunshine, and glee and loving speech, and the maidens suffered +the young men to lead them whither they would, and twilight began to +draw round about them as the Maiden Band was sundered. + +Some, they were led away westward down the Portway to the homesteads +thereabout; and for divers of these the way was long to their halls, +and they would have to wend over long stretches of dewy meadows, and +hear the night-wind whisper in many a tree, and see the east begin to +lighten with the dawn before they came to the lighted feast that +awaited them. But some turned up the Portway straight towards +Burgstead; and short was their road to the halls where even now the +lights were being kindled for their greeting. + +As for the Sun-beam, she had been very quiet the day long, speaking +as little as she might do, laughing not at all, and smiling for +kindness' sake rather than for merriment; and when the grooms came +seeking their maidens, she withdrew herself from the band, and stood +alone amidst the road nigher to Burgstead than they; and her heart +beat hard, and her breath came short and quick, as though fear had +caught her in its grip; and indeed for one moment of time she feared +that he was not coming to her. For he had gone with the other grooms +to that gathered band, and had passed from one to the other, not +finding her, till he had got him through the whole company, and +beheld her awaiting him. Then indeed he bounded toward her, and +caught her by the hands, and then by the shoulders, and drew her to +him, and she nothing loth; and in that while he said to her: + +'Come then, my friend; lo thou! they go each their own way toward the +halls of their houses; and for thee have I chosen a way--a way over +the foot-bridge yonder, and over the dewy meadows on this best even +of the year.' + +'Nay, nay,' she said, 'it may not be. Surely the Burgstead grooms +look to thee to lead them to the gate; and surely in the House of the +Face they look to see thee before any other. Nay, Gold-mane, my +dear, we must needs go by the Portway.' + +He said: 'We shall be home but a very little while after the first, +for the way I tell of is as short as the Portway. But hearken, my +sweet! When we are in the meadows we shall sit down for a minute on +a bank under the chestnut trees, and thence watch the moon coming up +over the southern cliffs. And I shall behold thee in the summer +night, and deem that I see all thy beauty; which yet shall make me +dumb with wonder when I see it indeed in the house amongst the +candles.' + +'O nay,' she said, 'by the Portway shall we go; the torch-bearers +shall be abiding thee at the gate.' + +Spake Face-of-god: 'Then shall we rise up and wend first through a +wide treeless meadow, wherein amidst the night we shall behold the +kine moving about like odorous shadows; and through the greyness of +the moonlight thou shalt deem that thou seest the pink colour of the +eglantine blossoms, so fragrant they are.' + +'O nay,' she said, 'but it is meet that we go by the Portway.' + +But he said: 'Then from the wide meadow come we into a close of +corn, and then into an orchard-close beyond it. There in the ancient +walnut-tree the owl sitteth breathing hard in the night-time; but +thou shalt not hear him for the joy of the nightingales singing from +the apple-trees of the close. Then from out of the shadowed orchard +shall we come into the open town-meadow, and over its daisies shall +the moonlight be lying in a grey flood of brightness. + +'Short is the way across it to the brim of the Weltering Water, and +across the water lieth the fair garden of the Face; and I have dight +for thee there a little boat to waft us across the night-dark waters, +that shall be like wavering flames of white fire where the moon +smites them, and like the void of all things where the shadows hang +over them. There then shall we be in the garden, beholding how the +hall-windows are yellow, and hearkening the sound of the hall-glee +borne across the flowers and blending with the voice of the +nightingales in the trees. There then shall we go along the grass +paths whereby the pinks and the cloves and the lavender are sending +forth their fragrance, to cheer us, who faint at the scent of the +over-worn roses, and the honey-sweetness of the lilies. + +'All this is for thee, and for nought but for thee this even; and +many a blossom whereof thou knowest nought shall grieve if thy foot +tread not thereby to-night; if the path of thy wedding which I have +made, be void of thee, on the even of the Chamber of Love. + +'But lo! at last at the garden's end is the yew-walk arched over for +thee, and thou canst not see whereby to enter it; but I, I know it, +and I lead thee into and along the dark tunnel through the moonlight, +and thine hand is not weary of mine as we go. But at the end shall +we come to a wicket, which shall bring us out by the gable-end of the +Hall of the Face. Turn we about its corner then, and there are we +blinking on the torches of the torch-bearers, and the candles through +the open door, and the hall ablaze with light and full of joyous +clamour, like the bale-fire in the dark night kindled on a ness above +the sea by fisher-folk remembering the Gods.' + +'O nay,' she said, 'but by the Portway must we go; the straightest +way to the Gate of Burgstead.' + +In vain she spake, and knew not what she said; for even as he was +speaking he led her away, and her feet went as her will went, rather +than her words; and even as she said that last word she set her foot +on the first board of the foot-bridge; and she turned aback one +moment, and saw the long line of the rock-wall yet glowing with the +last of the sunset of midsummer, while as she turned again, lo! +before her the moon just beginning to lift himself above the edge of +the southern cliffs, and betwixt her and him all Burgdale, and Face- +of-god moreover. + +Thus then they crossed the bridge into the green meadows, and through +the closes and into the garden of the Face and unto the Hall-door; +and other brides and grooms were there before them (for six grooms +had brought home brides to the House of the Face); but none deemed it +amiss in the War-leader of the folk and the love that had led him. +And old Stone-face said: 'Too many are the rows of bee-skeps in the +gardens of the Dale that we should begrudge wayward lovers an hour's +waste of candle-light.' + +So at last those twain went up the sun-bright Hall hand in hand in +all their loveliness, and up on to the dais, and stood together by +the middle seat; and the tumult of the joy of the kindred was hushed +for a while as they saw that there was speech in the mouth of the +War-leader. + +Then he spread his hands abroad before them all and cried out: 'How +then have I kept mine oath, whereas I swore on the Holy Boar to wed +the fairest woman of the world?' + +A mighty shout went rattling about the timbers of the roof in answer +to his word; and they that looked up to the gable of the Hall said +that they saw the ray-ringed image of the God smile with joy over the +gathered folk. + +But spake Iron-face unheard amidst the clamour of the Hall: 'How +fares it now with my darling and my daughter, who dwelleth amongst +strangers in the land beyond the wild-wood?' + + + +CHAPTER LIX. THE BEHEST OF FACE-OF-GOD TO THE BRIDE ACCOMPLISHED: A +MOTE-STEAD APPOINTED FOR THE THREE FOLKS, TO WIT, THE MEN OF +BURGDALE, THE SHEPHERDS, AND THE CHILDREN OF THE WOLF + + + +Three years and two months thereafter, three hours after noon in the +days of early autumn, came a wain tilted over with precious webs of +cloth, and drawn by eight white oxen, into the Market-place of +Silver-stead: two score and ten of spearmen of the tallest, clad in +goodly war-gear, went beside it, and much people of Silver-dale +thronged about them. The wain stayed at the foot of the stair that +led up to the door of the Mote-house, and there lighted down +therefrom a woman goodly of fashion, with wide grey eyes, and face +and hands brown with the sun's burning. She had a helm on her head +and a sword girt to her side, and in her arms she bore a yearling +child. + +And there was come Bow-may with the second man-child born to Face-of- +god. + +She stayed not amidst the wondering folk, but hastened up the stair, +which she had once seen running with the blood of men: the door was +open, and she went in and walked straight-way, with the babe in her +arms, up the great Hall to the dais. + +There were men on the dais: amidmost sat Folk-might, little changed +since the last day she had seen him, yet fairer, she deemed, than of +old time; and her heart went forth to meet the Chieftain of her Folk, +and the glad tears started in her eyes and ran down her cheeks as she +drew near to him. + +By his side sat the Bride, and her also Bow-may deemed to have waxed +goodlier. Both she and Folk-might knew Bow-may ere she had gone half +the length of the hall; and the Bride rose up in her place and cried +out Bow-may's name joyously. + +With these were sitting the elders of the Wolf and the Woodlanders, +the more part of whom Bow-may knew well. + +On the dais also stood aside a score of men weaponed, and looking as +if they were awaiting the word which should send them forth on some +errand. + +Now stood up Folk-might and said: 'Fair greeting and love to my +friend and the daughter of my Folk! How farest thou, Bow-may, best +of all friendly women? How fareth my sister, and Face-of-god my +brother? and how is it with our friends and helpers in the goodly +Dale?' + +Said Bow-may: 'It is well both with all those and with me; and my +heart laughs to see thee, Folk-might, and to look on the elders of +the valiant, and our lovely sister the Bride. But I have a message +for thee from Face-of-god: wilt thou that I deliver it here?' + +'Yea surely,' said Folk-might, and came forth. and took her hand, and +kissed her cheeks and her mouth. The Bride also came forth and cast +her arms about her, and kissed her; and they led her between them to +a seat on the dais beside Folk-might. + +But all men looked on the child in her arms and wondered what it was. +But Bow-may took the babe, which was both fair and great, and set it +on the knees of the Bride, and said: + +'Thus saith Face-of-god: "Friend and kinswoman, well-beloved +playmate, the gift which thou badest of me in sorrow do thou now take +in joy, and do all the good thou wouldest to the son of thy friend. +The ring which I gave thee once in the garden of the Face, give thou +to Bow-may, my trusty and well-beloved, in token of the fulfilment of +my behest."' + +Then the Bride kissed Bow-may again, and fell to fondling of the +child, which was loth to leave Bow-may. + +But she spake again: 'To thee also, Folk-might, I have a message +from Face-of-god, who saith: "Mighty warrior, friend and fellow, all +things thrive with us, and we are happy. Yet is there a hollow place +in our hearts which grieveth us, and only thou and thine may amend +it. Though whiles we hear tell of thee, yet we see thee not, and +fain were we, might we see thee, and wot if the said tales be true. +Wilt thou help us somewhat herein, or wilt thou leave us all the +labour? For sure we be that thou wilt not say that thou rememberest +us no more, and that thy love for us is departed." This is his +message, Folk-might, and he would have an answer from thee.' + +Then laughed Folk-might and said: 'Sister Bow-may, seest thou these +weaponed men hereby?' + +'Yea,' she said. + +Said he: 'These men bear a message with them to Face-of-god my +brother. Crow the Shaft-speeder, stand forth and tell thy friend +Bow-may the message I have set in thy mouth, every word of it.' + +Then Crow stood forth and greeted Bow-may friendly, and said: +'Friend Bow-may, this is the message of our Alderman: "Friend and +helper, in the Dale which thou hast given to us do all things thrive; +neither are we grown old in three years' wearing, nor are our +memories worsened. We long sore to see you and give you guesting in +Silver-dale, and one day that shall befall. Meanwhile, know this: +that we of the Wolf and the Woodland, mindful of the earth that bore +us, and the pit whence we were digged, have a mind to go see Shadowy +Vale once in every three years, and there to hold high-tide in the +ancient Hall of the Wolf, and sit in the Doom-ring of our Fathers. +But since ye have joined yourselves to us in battle, and have given +us this Dale, our health and wealth, without price and without +reward, we deem you our very brethren, and small shall be our hall- +glee, and barren shall our Doom-ring seem to us, unless ye sit there +beside us. Come then, that we may rejoice each other by the sight of +face and sound of voice; that we may speak together of matters that +concern our welfare; so that we three Kindreds may become one Folk. +And if this seem good to you, know that we shall be in Shadowy Vale +in a half-month's wearing. Grieve us not by forbearing to come." +Lo, Bow-may, this is the message, and I have learned it well, for +well it pleaseth me to bear it.' + +Then said Folk-might: 'What say'st thou to the message, Bow-may?' + +'It is good in all ways,' said she, 'but is it timely? May our folk +have the message and get to Shadowy Vale, so as to meet you there?' + +'Yea surely,' said Folk-might, 'for our kinsmen here shall take the +road through Shadowy Vale, and in four days' time they shall be in +Burgdale, and as thou wottest, it is scant a two days' journey thence +to Shadowy Vale.' + +Therewith he turned to those men again, and said: 'Kinsman Crow, +depart now, and use all diligence with thy message.' + +So the messengers began to stir; but Bow-may cried out: 'Ho! Folk- +might, my friend, I perceive thou art little changed from the man I +knew in Shadowy Vale, who would have his dinner before the fowl were +plucked. For shall I not go back with these thy messengers, so that +I also may get all ready to wend to the Mote-house of Shadowy Vale?' + +But the Bride looked kindly on her, and laughed and said: 'Sister +Bow-may, his meaning is that thou shouldest abide here in Silver-dale +till we depart for the Folk-thing, and then go thither with us; and +this I also pray thee to do, that thou mayst rejoice the hearts of +thine old friends; and also that thou mayst teach me all that I +should know concerning this fair child of my brother and my sister.' + +And she looked on her so kindly as she caressed the babe, that Bow- +may's heart melted, and she cried out: + +'Would that I might never depart from the house wherein thou +dwellest, O Bride of my Kinsman! And this that thou biddest me is +easy and pleasant for me to do. But afterwards I must get me back to +Burgdale; for I seem to have left much there that calleth for me.' + +'Yea,' said Folk-might, 'and art thou wedded, Bow-may? Shalt thou +never bend the yew in battle again?' + +Said Bow-may soberly: 'Who knoweth, chieftain? Yea, I am wedded now +these two years; and nought I looked for less when I followed those +twain through the wild-wood to Burgdale.' + +She sighed therewith, and said: 'In all the Dale there is no better +man of his hands than my man, nor any goodlier to look on, and he is +even that Hart of Highcliff whom thou knowest well, O Bride!' + +Said the Bride: 'Thou sayest sooth, there is no better man in the +Dale.' + +Said Bow-may: 'Sun-beam bade me wed him when he pressed hard upon +me.' She stayed awhile, and then said: 'Face-of-god also deemed I +should not naysay the man; and now my son by him is of like age to +this little one.' + +'Good is thy story,' said Folk-might; 'or deemest thou, Bow-may, that +such strong and goodly women as thou, and women so kind and friendly, +should forbear the wedding and the bringing forth of children? Yea, +and we who may even yet have to gather to another field before we +die, and fight for life and the goods of life.' + +'Thou sayest well,' she said; 'all that hath befallen me is good +since the day whereon I loosed shaft from the break of the bent over +yonder.' + +Therewith she fell a-musing, and made as though she were hearkening +to the soft voice of the Bride caressing the new-come baby; but in +sooth neither heard nor saw what was going on about her, for her +thoughts were in bygone days. Howbeit presently she came to herself +again, and fell to asking many questions concerning Silver-dale and +the kindred, and those who had once been thralls of the Dusky Men; +and they answered all duly, and told her the whole story of the Dale +since the Day of the Victory. + +So Bow-may and the carles who had come with her abode for that half- +month in Silver-dale, guested in all love by the folk thereof, both +the kindreds and the poor folk. And Bow-may deemed that the Bride +loved Face-of-god's child little less than her own, whereof she had +two, a man and a woman; and thereat was she full of joy, since she +knew that Face-of-god and the Sun-beam would be fain thereof. + +Thereafter, when the time was come, fared Folk-might and the Bride, +and many of the elders and warriors of the Wolf and the Woodland, to +Shadowy Vale; and Dallach and the best of Rose-dale went with them, +being so bidden; and Bow-may and her following, according to the word +of the Bride. And in Shadowy Vale they met Face-of-god and Alderman +Iron-face, and the chiefs of Burgdale and the Shepherds, and many +others; and great joy there was at the meeting. And the Sun-beam +remembered the word which she spoke to Face-of-god when first he came +to Shadowy Vale, that she would be wishful to see again the dwelling +wherein she had passed through so much joy and sorrow of her younger +days. But if anyone were fain of this meeting, the Alderman was glad +above all, when he took the Bride once more in his arms, and caressed +her whom he had deemed should be a very daughter of his House. + +Now telleth the tale of all these kindreds, to wit, the Men of +Burgdale and the Sheepcotes; and the Children of the Wolf, and the +Woodlanders, and the Men of Rose-dale, that they were friends +henceforth, and became as one Folk, for better or worse, in peace and +in war, in waning and waxing; and that whatsoever befell them, they +ever held Shadowy Vale a holy place, and for long and long after they +met there in mid-autumn, and held converse and counsel together. + +NO MORE AS NOW TELLETH THE TALE OF THESE KINDREDS AND FOLKS, BUT +MAKETH AN ENDING. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE ROOTS OF THE MOUNTAINS *** + +This file should be named rtmt10.txt or rtmt10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, rtmt11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, rtmt10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Roots of the Mountains + +Author: William Morris + +Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6050] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 24, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1896 Longmans, Green, and Co. edition by David +Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h1>THE ROOTS OF THE MOUNTAINS WHEREIN IS TOLD SOMEWHAT OF THE LIVES +OF THE MEN OF BURGDALE THEIR FRIENDS THEIR NEIGHBOURS THEIR FOEMEN AND +THEIR FELLOWS IN ARMS<br />BY WILLIAM MORRIS</h1> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<p>Whiles carried o’er the iron road,<br />We hurry by some fair +abode;<br />The garden bright amidst the hay,<br />The yellow wain upon +the way,<br />The dining men, the wind that sweeps<br />Light locks +from off the sun-sweet heaps -<br />The gable grey, the hoary roof,<br />Here +now - and now so far aloof.<br />How sorely then we long to stay<br />And +midst its sweetness wear the day,<br />And ’neath its changing +shadows sit,<br />And feel ourselves a part of it.<br />Such rest, such +stay, I strove to win<br />With these same leaves that lie herein.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER I. OF BURGSTEAD AND ITS FOLK AND ITS NEIGHBOURS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Once upon a time amidst the mountains and hills and falling streams +of a fair land there was a town or thorp in a certain valley. +This was well-nigh encompassed by a wall of sheer cliffs; toward the +East and the great mountains they drew together till they went near +to meet, and left but a narrow path on either side of a stony stream +that came rattling down into the Dale: toward the river at that end +the hills lowered somewhat, though they still ended in sheer rocks; +but up from it, and more especially on the north side, they swelled +into great shoulders of land, then dipped a little, and rose again into +the sides of huge fells clad with pine-woods, and cleft here and there +by deep ghylls: thence again they rose higher and steeper, and ever +higher till they drew dark and naked out of the woods to meet the snow-fields +and ice-rivers of the high mountains. But that was far away from +the pass by the little river into the valley; and the said river was +no drain from the snow-fields white and thick with the grinding of the +ice, but clear and bright were its waters that came from wells amidst +the bare rocky heaths.</p> +<p>The upper end of the valley, where it first began to open out from +the pass, was rugged and broken by rocks and ridges of water-borne stones, +but presently it smoothed itself into mere grassy swellings and knolls, +and at last into a fair and fertile plain swelling up into a green wave, +as it were, against the rock-wall which encompassed it on all sides +save where the river came gushing out of the strait pass at the east +end, and where at the west end it poured itself out of the Dale toward +the lowlands and the plain of the great river.</p> +<p>Now the valley was some ten miles of our measure from that place +of the rocks and the stone-ridges, to where the faces of the hills drew +somewhat anigh to the river again at the west, and then fell aback along +the edge of the great plain; like as when ye fare a-sailing past two +nesses of a river-mouth, and the main-sea lieth open before you.</p> +<p>Besides the river afore-mentioned, which men called the Weltering +Water, there were other waters in the Dale. Near the eastern pass, +entangled in the rocky ground was a deep tarn full of cold springs and +about two acres in measure, and therefrom ran a stream which fell into +the Weltering Water amidst the grassy knolls. Black seemed the +waters of that tarn which on one side washed the rocks-wall of the Dale; +ugly and aweful it seemed to men, and none knew what lay beneath its +waters save black mis-shapen trouts that few cared to bring to net or +angle: and it was called the Death-Tarn.</p> +<p>Other waters yet there were: here and there from the hills on both +sides, but especially from the south side, came trickles of water that +ran in pretty brooks down to the river; and some of these sprang bubbling +up amidst the foot-mounds of the sheer-rocks; some had cleft a rugged +and strait way through them, and came tumbling down into the Dale at +diverse heights from their faces. But on the north side about +halfway down the Dale, one stream somewhat bigger than the others, and +dealing with softer ground, had cleft for itself a wider way; and the +folk had laboured this way wider yet, till they had made them a road +running north along the west side of the stream. Sooth to say, +except for the strait pass along the river at the eastern end, and the +wider pass at the western, they had no other way (save one of which +a word anon) out of the Dale but such as mountain goats and bold cragsmen +might take; and even of these but few.</p> +<p>This midway stream was called the Wildlake, and the way along it +Wildlake’s Way, because it came to them out of the wood, which +on that north side stretched away from nigh to the lip of the valley-wall +up to the pine woods and the high fells on the east and north, and down +to the plain country on the west and south.</p> +<p>Now when the Weltering Water came out of the rocky tangle near the +pass, it was turned aside by the ground till it swung right up to the +feet of the Southern crags; then it turned and slowly bent round again +northward, and at last fairly doubled back on itself before it turned +again to run westward; so that when, after its second double, it had +come to flowing softly westward under the northern crags, it had cast +two thirds of a girdle round about a space of land a little below the +grassy knolls and tofts aforesaid; and there in that fair space between +the folds of the Weltering Water stood the Thorp whereof the tale hath +told.</p> +<p>The men thereof had widened and deepened the Weltering Water about +them, and had bridged it over to the plain meads; and athwart the throat +of the space left clear by the water they had built them a strong wall +though not very high, with a gate amidst and a tower on either side +thereof. Moreover, on the face of the cliff which was but a stone’s +throw from the gate they had made them stairs and ladders to go up by; +and on a knoll nigh the brow had built a watch-tower of stone strong +and great, lest war should come into the land from over the hills. +That tower was ancient, and therefrom the Thorp had its name and the +whole valley also; and it was called Burgstead in Burgdale.</p> +<p>So long as the Weltering Water ran straight along by the northern +cliffs after it had left Burgstead, betwixt the water and the cliffs +was a wide flat way fashioned by man’s hand. Thus was the +water again a good defence to the Thorp, for it ran slow and deep there, +and there was no other ground betwixt it and the cliffs save that road, +which was easy to bar across so that no foemen might pass without battle, +and this road was called the Portway. For a long mile the river +ran under the northern cliffs, and then turned into the midst of the +Dale, and went its way westward a broad stream winding in gentle laps +and folds here and there down to the out-gate of the Dale. But +the Portway held on still underneath the rock-wall, till the sheer-rocks +grew somewhat broken, and were cumbered with certain screes, and at +last the wayfarer came upon the break in them, and the ghyll through +which ran the Wildlake with Wildlake’s Way beside it, but the +Portway still went on all down the Dale and away to the Plain-country.</p> +<p>That road in the ghyll, which was neither wide nor smooth, the wayfarer +into the wood must follow, till it lifted itself out of the ghyll, and +left the Wildlake coming rattling down by many steps from the east; +and now the way went straight north through the woodland, ever mounting +higher, (because the whole set of the land was toward the high fells,) +but not in any cleft or ghyll. The wood itself thereabout was +thick, a blended growth of diverse kinds of trees, but most of oak and +ash; light and air enough came through their boughs to suffer the holly +and bramble and eglantine and other small wood to grow together into +thickets, which no man could pass without hewing a way. But before +it is told whereto Wildlake’s Way led, it must be said that on +the east side of the ghyll, where it first began just over the Portway, +the hill’s brow was clear of wood for a certain space, and there, +overlooking all the Dale, was the Mote-stead of the Dalesmen, marked +out by a great ring of stones, amidst of which was the mound for the +Judges and the Altar of the Gods before it. And this was the holy +place of the men of the Dale and of other folk whereof the tale shall +now tell.</p> +<p>For when Wildlake’s Way had gone some three miles from the +Mote-stead, the trees began to thin, and presently afterwards was a +clearing and the dwellings of men, built of timber as may well be thought. +These houses were neither rich nor great, nor was the folk a mighty +folk, because they were but a few, albeit body by body they were stout +carles enough. They had not affinity with the Dalesmen, and did +not wed with them, yet it is to be deemed that they were somewhat akin +to them. To be short, though they were freemen, yet as regards +the Dalesmen were they well-nigh their servants; for they were but poor +in goods, and had to lean upon them somewhat. No tillage they +had among those high trees; and of beasts nought save some flocks of +goats and a few asses. Hunters they were, and charcoal-burners, +and therein the deftest of men, and they could shoot well in the bow +withal: so they trucked their charcoal and their smoked venison and +their peltries with the Dalesmen for wheat and wine and weapons and +weed; and the Dalesmen gave them main good pennyworths, as men who had +abundance wherewith to uphold their kinsmen, though they were but far-away +kin. Stout hands had these Woodlanders and true hearts as any; +but they were few-spoken and to those that needed them not somewhat +surly of speech and grim of visage: brown-skinned they were, but light-haired; +well-eyed, with but little red in their cheeks: their women were not +very fair, for they toiled like the men, or more. They were thought +to be wiser than most men in foreseeing things to come. They were +much given to spells, and songs of wizardry, and were very mindful of +the old story-lays, wherein they were far more wordy than in their daily +speech. Much skill had they in runes, and were exceeding deft +in scoring them on treen bowls, and on staves, and door-posts and roof-beams +and standing-beds and such like things. Many a day when the snow +was drifting over their roofs, and hanging heavy on the tree-boughs, +and the wind was roaring through the trees aloft and rattling about +the close thicket, when the boughs were clattering in the wind, and +crashing down beneath the weight of the gathering freezing snow, when +all beasts and men lay close in their lairs, would they sit long hours +about the house-fire with the knife or the gouge in hand, with the timber +twixt their knees and the whetstone beside them, hearkening to some +tale of old times and the days when their banner was abroad in the world; +and they the while wheedling into growth out of the tough wood knots +and blossoms and leaves and the images of beasts and warriors and women.</p> +<p>They were called nought save the Woodland-Carles in that day, though +time had been when they had borne a nobler name: and their abode was +called Carlstead. Shortly, for all they had and all they had not, +for all they were and all they were not, they were well-beloved by their +friends and feared by their foes.</p> +<p>Now when Wildlake’s Way was gotten to Carlstead, there was +an end of it toward the north; though beyond it in a right line the +wood was thinner, because of the hewing of the Carles. But the +road itself turned west at once and went on through the wood, till some +four miles further it first thinned and then ceased altogether, the +ground going down-hill all the way: for this was the lower flank of +the first great upheaval toward the high mountains. But presently, +after the wood was ended, the land broke into swelling downs and winding +dales of no great height or depth, with a few scattered trees about +the hillsides, mostly thorns or scrubby oaks, gnarled and bent and kept +down by the western wind: here and there also were yew-trees, and whiles +the hillsides would be grown over with box-wood, but none very great; +and often juniper grew abundantly. This then was the country of +the Shepherds, who were friends both of the Dalesmen and the Woodlanders. +They dwelt not in any fenced town or thorp, but their homesteads were +scattered about as was handy for water and shelter. Nevertheless +they had their own stronghold; for amidmost of their country, on the +highest of a certain down above a bottom where a willowy stream winded, +was a great earthwork: the walls thereof were high and clean and overlapping +at the entering in, and amidst of it was a deep well of water, so that +it was a very defensible place: and thereto would they drive their flocks +and herds when war was in the land, for nought but a very great host +might win it; and this stronghold they called Greenbury.</p> +<p>These Shepherd-Folk were strong and tall like the Woodlanders, for +they were partly of the same blood, but burnt they were both ruddy and +brown: they were of more words than the Woodlanders but yet not many-worded. +They knew well all those old story-lays, (and this partly by the minstrelsy +of the Woodlanders,) but they had scant skill in wizardry, and would +send for the Woodlanders, both men and women, to do whatso they needed +therein. They were very hale and long-lived, whereas they dwelt +in clear bright air, and they mostly went light-clad even in the winter, +so strong and merry were they. They wedded with the Woodlanders +and the Dalesmen both; at least certain houses of them did so. +They grew no corn; nought but a few pot-herbs, but had their meal of +the Dalesmen; and in the summer they drave some of their milch-kine +into the Dale for the abundance of grass there; whereas their own hills +and bents and winding valleys were not plenteously watered, except here +and there as in the bottom under Greenbury. No swine they had, +and but few horses, but of sheep very many, and of the best both for +their flesh and their wool. Yet were they nought so deft craftsmen +at the loom as were the Dalesmen, and their women were not very eager +at the weaving, though they loathed not the spindle and rock. +Shortly, they were merry folk well-beloved of the Dalesmen, quick to +wrath, though it abode not long with them; not very curious in their +houses and halls, which were but little, and were decked mostly with +the handiwork of the Woodland-Carles their guests; who when they were +abiding with them, would oft stand long hours nose to beam, scoring +and nicking and hammering, answering no word spoken to them but with +aye or no, desiring nought save the endurance of the daylight. +Moreover, this shepherd-folk heeded not gay raiment over-much, but commonly +went clad in white woollen or sheep-brown weed.</p> +<p>But beyond this shepherd-folk were more downs and more, scantily +peopled, and that after a while by folk with whom they had no kinship +or affinity, and who were at whiles their foes. Yet was there +no enduring enmity between them; and ever after war and battle came +peace; and all blood-wites were duly paid and no long feud followed: +nor were the Dalesmen and the Woodlanders always in these wars, though +at whiles they were. Thus then it fared with these people.</p> +<p>But now that we have told of the folks with whom the Dalesmen had +kinship, affinity, and friendship, tell we of their chief abode, Burgstead +to wit, and of its fashion. As hath been told, it lay upon the +land made nigh into an isle by the folds of the Weltering Water towards +the uppermost end of the Dale; and it was warded by the deep water, +and by the wall aforesaid with its towers. Now the Dale at its +widest, to wit where Wildlake fell into it, was but nine furlongs over, +but at Burgstead it was far narrower; so that betwixt the wall and the +wandering stream there was but a space of fifty acres, and therein lay +Burgstead in a space of the shape of a sword-pommel: and the houses +of the kinships lay about it, amidst of gardens and orchards, but little +ordered into streets and lanes, save that a way went clean through everything +from the tower-warded gate to the bridge over the Water, which was warded +by two other towers on its hither side.</p> +<p>As to the houses, they were some bigger, some smaller, as the housemates +needed. Some were old, but not very old, save two only, and some +quite new, but of these there were not many: they were all built fairly +of stone and lime, with much fair and curious carved work of knots and +beasts and men round about the doors; or whiles a wale of such-like +work all along the house-front. For as deft as were the Woodlanders +with knife and gouge on the oaken beams, even so deft were the Dalesmen +with mallet and chisel on the face of the hewn stone; and this was a +great pastime about the Thorp. Within these houses had but a hall +and solar, with shut-beds out from the hall on one side or two, with +whatso of kitchen and buttery and out-bower men deemed handy. +Many men dwelt in each house, either kinsfolk, or such as were joined +to the kindred.</p> +<p>Near to the gate of Burgstead in that street aforesaid and facing +east was the biggest house of the Thorp; it was one of the two abovesaid +which were older than any other. Its door-posts and the lintel +of the door were carved with knots and twining stems fairer than other +houses of that stead; and on the wall beside the door carved over many +stones was an image wrought in the likeness of a man with a wide face, +which was terrible to behold, although it smiled: he bore a bent bow +in his hand with an arrow fitted to its string, and about the head of +him was a ring of rays like the beams of the sun, and at his feet was +a dragon, which had crept, as it were, from amidst of the blossomed +knots of the door-post wherewith the tail of him was yet entwined. +And this head with the ring of rays about it was wrought into the adornment +of that house, both within and without, in many other places, but on +never another house of the Dale; and it was called the House of the +Face. Thereof hath the tale much to tell hereafter, but as now +it goeth on to tell of the ways of life of the Dalesmen.</p> +<p>In Burgstead was no Mote-hall or Town-house or Church, such as we +wot of in these days; and their market-place was wheresoever any might +choose to pitch a booth: but for the most part this was done in the +wide street betwixt the gate and the bridge. As to a meeting-place, +were there any small matters between man and man, these would the Alderman +or one of the Wardens deal with, sitting in Court with the neighbours +on the wide space just outside the Gate: but if it were to do with greater +matters, such as great manslayings and blood-wites, or the making of +war or ending of it, or the choosing of the Alderman and the Wardens, +such matters must be put off to the Folk-mote, which could but be held +in the place aforesaid where was the Doom-ring and the Altar of the +Gods; and at that Folk-mote both the Shepherd-Folk and the Woodland-Carles +foregathered with the Dalesmen, and duly said their say. There +also they held their great casts and made offerings to the Gods for +the Fruitfulness of the Year, the ingathering of the increase, and in +Memory of their Forefathers. Natheless at Yule-tide also they +feasted from house to house to be glad with the rest of Midwinter, and +many a cup drank at those feasts to the memory of the fathers, and the +days when the world was wider to them, and their banners fared far afield.</p> +<p>But besides these dwellings of men in the field between the wall +and the water, there were homesteads up and down the Dale whereso men +found it easy and pleasant to dwell: their halls were built of much +the same fashion as those within the Thorp; but many had a high garth-wall +cast about them, so that they might make a stout defence in their own +houses if war came into the Dale.</p> +<p>As to their work afield; in many places the Dale was fair with growth +of trees, and especially were there long groves of sweet chestnut standing +on the grass, of the fruit whereof the folk had much gain. Also +on the south side nigh to the western end was a wood or two of yew-trees +very great and old, whence they gat them bow-staves, for the Dalesmen +also shot well in the bow. Much wheat and rye they raised in the +Dale, and especially at the nether end thereof. Apples and pears +and cherries and plums they had in plenty; of which trees, some grew +about the borders of the acres, some in the gardens of the Thorp and +the homesteads. On the slopes that had grown from the breaking +down here and there of the Northern cliffs, and which faced the South +and the Sun’s burning, were rows of goodly vines, whereof the +folk made them enough and to spare of strong wine both white and red.</p> +<p>As to their beasts; swine they had a many, but not many sheep, since +herein they trusted to their trucking with their friends the Shepherds; +they had horses, and yet but a few, for they were stout in going afoot; +and, had they a journey to make with women big with babes, or with children +or outworn elders, they would yoke their oxen to their wains, and go +fair and softly whither they would. But the said oxen and all +their neat were exceeding big and fair, far other than the little beasts +of the Shepherd-Folk; they were either dun of colour, or white with +black horns (and those very great) and black tail-tufts and ear-tips. +Asses they had, and mules for the paths of the mountains to the east; +geese and hens enough, and dogs not a few, great hounds stronger than +wolves, sharp-nosed, long-jawed, dun of colour, shag-haired.</p> +<p>As to their wares; they were very deft weavers of wool and flax, +and made a shift to dye the thrums in fair colours; since both woad +and madder came to them good cheap by means of the merchants of the +plain country, and of greening weeds was abundance at hand. Good +smiths they were in all the metals: they washed somewhat of gold out +of the sands of the Weltering Water, and copper and tin they fetched +from the rocks of the eastern mountains; but of silver they saw little, +and iron they must buy of the merchants of the plain, who came to them +twice in the year, to wit in the spring and the late autumn just before +the snows. Their wares they bought with wool spun and in the fleece, +and fine cloth, and skins of wine and young neat both steers and heifers, +and wrought copper bowls, and gold and copper by weight, for they had +no stamped money. And they guested these merchants well, for they +loved them, because of the tales they told them of the Plain and its +cities, and the manslayings therein, and the fall of Kings and Dukes, +and the uprising of Captains.</p> +<p>Thus then lived this folk in much plenty and ease of life, though +not delicately nor desiring things out of measure. They wrought +with their hands and wearied themselves; and they rested from their +toil and feasted and were merry: to-morrow was not a burden to them, +nor yesterday a thing which they would fain forget: life shamed them +not, nor did death make them afraid.</p> +<p>As for the Dale wherein they dwelt, it was indeed most fair and lovely, +and they deemed it the Blessing of the Earth, and they trod its flowery +grass beside its rippled streams amidst its green tree-boughs proudly +and joyfully with goodly bodies and merry hearts.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER II. OF FACE-OF-GOD AND HIS KINDRED</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Tells the tale, that on an evening of late autumn when the weather +was fair, calm, and sunny, there came a man out of the wood hard by +the Mote-stead aforesaid, who sat him down at the roots of the Speech-mound, +casting down before him a roe-buck which he had just slain in the wood. +He was a young man of three and twenty summers; he was so clad that +he had on him a sheep-brown kirtle and leggings of like stuff bound +about with white leather thongs; he bore a short-sword in his girdle +and a little axe withal; the sword with fair wrought gilded hilts and +a dew-shoe of like fashion to its sheath. He had his quiver at +his back and bare in his hand his bow unstrung. He was tall and +strong, very fair of fashion both of limbs and face, white-skinned, +but for the sun’s tanning, and ruddy-cheeked: his beard was little +and fine, his hair yellow and curling, cut somewhat close, but for its +length so plenteous, and so thick, that none could fail to note it. +He had no hat nor hood upon his head, nought but a fillet of golden +beads.</p> +<p>As he sat down he glanced at the dale below him with a well-pleased +look, and then cast his eyes down to the grass at his feet, as though +to hold a little longer all unchanged the image of the fair place he +had just seen. The sun was low in the heavens, and his slant beams +fell yellow all up the dale, gilding the chestnut groves grown dusk +and grey with autumn, and the black masses of the elm-boughs, and gleaming +back here and there from the pools of the Weltering Water. Down +in the midmost meadows the long-horned dun kine were moving slowly as +they fed along the edges of the stream, and a dog was bounding about +with exceeding swiftness here and there among them. At a sharply +curved bight of the river the man could see a little vermilion flame +flickering about, and above it a thin blue veil of smoke hanging in +the air, and clinging to the boughs of the willows anear; about it were +a dozen menfolk clear to see, some sitting, some standing, some walking +to and fro, but all in company together: four of were brown-clad and +short-skirted like himself, and from above the hand of one came a flash +of light as the sun smote upon the steel of his spear. The others +were long-skirted and clad gayer, and amongst them were red and blue +and green and white garments, and they were clear to be seen for women. +Just as the young man looked up again, those of them who were sitting +down rose up, and those that were strolling drew nigh, and they joined +hands together, and fell to dancing on the grass, and the dog and another +one with him came up to the dancers and raced about and betwixt them; +and so clear to see were they all and so little, being far away, that +they looked like dainty well-wrought puppets.</p> +<p>The young man sat smiling at it for a little, and then rose up and +shouldered his venison, and went down into Wildlake’s Way, and +presently was fairly in the Dale and striding along the Portway beside +the northern cliffs, whose greyness was gilded yet by the last rays +of the sun, though in a minute or two it would go under the western +rim. He went fast and cheerily, murmuring to himself snatches +of old songs; none overtook him on the road, but he overtook divers +folk going alone or in company toward Burgstead; swains and old men, +mothers and maidens coming from the field and the acre, or going from +house to house; and one or two he met but not many. All these +greeted him kindly, and he them again; but he stayed not to speak with +any, but went as one in haste.</p> +<p>It was dusk by then he passed under the gate of Burgstead; he went +straight thence to the door of the House of the Face, and entered as +one who is at home, and need go no further, nor abide a bidding.</p> +<p>The hall he came into straight out of the open air was long and somewhat +narrow and not right high; it was well-nigh dark now within, but since +he knew where to look, he could see by the flicker that leapt up now +and then from the smouldering brands of the hearth amidmost the hall +under the luffer, that there were but three men therein, and belike +they were even they whom he looked to find there, and for their part +they looked for his coming, and knew his step.</p> +<p>He set down his venison on the floor, and cried out in a cheery voice: +‘Ho, Kettel! Are all men gone without doors to sleep so +near the winter-tide, that the Hall is as dark as a cave? Hither +to me! Or art thou also sleeping?’</p> +<p>A voice came from the further side of the hearth: ‘Yea, lord, +asleep I am, and have been, and dreaming; and in my dream I dealt with +the flesh-pots and the cake-board, and thou shalt see my dream come +true presently to thy gain.’</p> +<p>Quoth another voice: ‘Kettel hath had out that share of his +dream already belike, if the saw sayeth sooth about cooks. All +ye have been away, so belike he hath done as Rafe’s dog when Rafe +ran away from the slain buck.’</p> +<p>He laughed therewith, and Kettel with him, and a third voice joined +the laughter. The young man also laughed and said: ‘Here +I bring the venison which my kinsman desired; but as ye see I have brought +it over-late: but take it, Kettel. When cometh my father from +the stithy?’</p> +<p>Quoth Kettel: ‘My lord hath been hard at it shaping the Yule-tide +sword, and doth not lightly leave such work, as ye wot, but he will +be here presently, for he has sent to bid us dight for supper straightway.’</p> +<p>Said the young man: ‘Where are there lords in the dale, Kettel, +or hast thou made some thyself, that thou must be always throwing them +in my teeth?’</p> +<p>‘Son of the Alderman,’ said Kettel, ‘ye call me +Kettel, which is no name of mine, so why should I not call thee lord, +which is no dignity of thine, since it goes well over my tongue from +old use and wont? But here comes my mate of the kettle, and the +women and lads. Sit down by the hearth away from their hurry, +and I will fetch thee the hand-water.’</p> +<p>The young man sat down, and Kettel took up the venison and went his +ways toward the door at the lower end of the hall; but ere he reached +it it opened, and a noisy crowd entered of men, women, boys, and dogs, +some bearing great wax candles, some bowls and cups and dishes and trenchers, +and some the boards for the meal.</p> +<p>The young man sat quiet smiling and winking his eyes at the sudden +flood of light let into the dark place; he took in without looking at +this or the other thing the aspect of his Fathers’ House, so long +familiar to him; yet to-night he had a pleasure in it above his wont, +and in all the stir of the household; for the thought of the wood wherein +he had wandered all day yet hung heavy upon him. Came one of the +girls and cast fresh brands on the smouldering fire and stirred it into +a blaze, and the wax candles were set up on the daïs, so that between +them and the mew-quickened fire every corner of the hall was bright. +As aforesaid it was long and narrow, over-arched with stone and not +right high, the windows high up under the springing of the roof-arch +and all on the side toward the street; over against them were the arches +of the shut-beds of the housemates. The walls were bare that evening, +but folk were wont to hang up hallings of woven pictures thereon when +feasts and high-days were toward; and all along the walls were the tenter-hooks +for that purpose, and divers weapons and tools were hanging from them +here and there. About the daïs behind the thwart-table were +now stuck for adornment leavy boughs of oak now just beginning to turn +with the first frosts. High up on the gable wall above the tenter-hooks +for the hangings were carven fair imagery and knots and twining stems; +for there in the hewn atone was set forth that same image with the rayed +head that was on the outside wall, and he was smiting the dragon and +slaying him; but here inside the house all this was stained in fair +and lively colours, and the sun-like rays round the head of the image +were of beaten gold. At the lower end of the hall were two doors +going into the butteries, and kitchen, and other out-bowers; and above +these doors was a loft upborne by stone pillars, which loft was the +sleeping chamber of the goodman of the house; but the outward door was +halfway between the said loft and the hearth of the hall.</p> +<p>So the young man took the shoes from his feet and then sat watching +the women and lads arraying the boards, till Kettel came again to him +with an old woman bearing the ewer and basin, who washed his feet and +poured the water over his hands, and gave him the towel with fair-broidered +ends to dry them withal.</p> +<p>Scarce had he made an end of this ere through the outer door came +in three men and a young woman with them; the foremost of these was +a man younger by some two years than the first-comer, but so like him +that none might misdoubt that he was his brother; the next was an old +man with a long white beard, but hale and upright; and lastly came a +man of middle-age, who led the young woman by the hand. He was +taller than the first of the young men, though the other who entered +with him outwent him in height; a stark carle he was, broad across the +shoulders, thin in the flank, long-armed and big-handed; very noble +and well-fashioned of countenance, with a straight nose and grey eyes +underneath a broad brow: his hair grown somewhat scanty was done about +with a fillet of golden beads like the young men his sons. For +indeed this was their father, and the master of the House.</p> +<p>His name was Iron-face, for he was the deftest of weapon-smiths, +and he was the Alderman of the Dalesmen, and well-beloved of them; his +kindred was deemed the noblest of the Dale, and long had they dwelt +in the House of the Face. But of his sons the youngest, the new-comer, +was named Hall-face, and his brother the elder Face-of-god; which name +was of old use amongst the kindred, and many great men and stout warriors +had borne it aforetime: and this young man, in great love had he been +gotten, and in much hope had he been reared, and therefore had he been +named after the best of the kindred. But his mother, who was hight +the Jewel, and had been a very fair woman, was dead now, and Iron-face +lacked a wife.</p> +<p>Face-of-god was well-beloved of his kindred and of all the Folk of +the Dale, and he had gotten a to-name, and was called Gold-mane because +of the abundance and fairness of his hair.</p> +<p>As for the young woman that was led in by Iron-face, she was the +betrothed of Face-of-god, and her name was the Bride. She looked +with such eyes of love on him when she saw him in the hall, as though +she had never seen him before but once, nor loved him but since yesterday; +though in truth they had grown up together and had seen each other most +days of the year for many years. She was of the kindred with whom +the chiefs and great men of the Face mostly wedded, which was indeed +far away kindred of them. She was a fair woman and strong: not +easily daunted amidst perils she was hardy and handy and light-foot: +she could swim as well as any, and could shoot well in the bow, and +wield sword and spear: yet was she kind and compassionate, and of great +courtesy, and the very dogs and kine trusted in her and loved her. +Her hair was dark red of hue, long and fine and plenteous, her eyes +great and brown, her brow broad and very fair, her lips fine and red: +her cheek not ruddy, yet nowise sallow, but clear and bright: tall she +was and of excellent fashion, but well-knit and well-measured rather +than slender and wavering as the willow-bough. Her voice was sweet +and soft, her words few, but exceeding dear to the listener. In +short, she was a woman born to be the ransom of her Folk.</p> +<p>Now as to the names which the menfolk of the Face bore, and they +an ancient kindred, a kindred of chieftains, it has been said that in +times past their image of the God of the Earth had over his treen face +a mask of beaten gold fashioned to the shape of the image; and that +when the Alderman of the Folk died, he to wit who served the God and +bore on his arm the gold-ring between the people and the altar, this +visor or face of God was laid over the face of him who had been in a +manner his priest, and therewith he was borne to mound; and the new +Alderman and priest had it in charge to fashion a new visor for the +God; and whereas for long this great kindred had been chieftains of +the people, they had been, and were all so named, that the word Face +was ever a part of their names.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER III. THEY TALK OF DIVERS MATTERS IN THE HALL</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Now Face-of-god, who is also called Gold-mane, rose up to meet the +new-comers, and each of them greeted him kindly, and the Bride kissed +him on the cheek, and he her in likewise; and he looked kindly on her, +and took her hand, and went on up the hall to the daïs, following +his father and the old man; as for him, he was of the kindred of the +House, and was foster-father of Iron-face and of his sons both; and +his name was Stone-face: a stark warrior had he been when he was young, +and even now he could do a man’s work in the battlefield, and +his understanding was as good as that of a man in his prime. So +went these and four others up on to the daïs and sat down before +the thwart-table looking down the hall, for the meat was now on the +board; and of the others there were some fifty men and women who were +deemed to be of the kindred and sat at the endlong tables.</p> +<p>So then the Alderman stood up and made the sign of the Hammer over +the meat, the token of his craft and of his God. Then they fell +to with good hearts, for there was enough and to spare of meat and drink. +There was bread and flesh (though not Gold-mane’s venison), and +leeks and roasted chestnuts of the grove, and red-cheeked apples of +the garth, and honey enough of that year’s gathering, and medlars +sharp and mellow: moreover, good wine of the western bents went up and +down the hall in great gilded copper bowls and in mazers girt and lipped +with gold.</p> +<p>But when they were full of meat, and had drunken somewhat, they fell +to speech, and Iron-face spake aloud to his son, who had but been speaking +softly to the Bride as one playmate to the other: but the Alderman said: +‘Scarce are the wood-deer grown, kinsman, when I must needs eat +sheep’s flesh on a Thursday, though my son has lain abroad in +the woods all night to hunt for me.’</p> +<p>And therewith he smiled in the young man’s face; but Gold-mane +reddened and said: ‘So is it, kinsman, I can hit what I can see; +but not what is hidden.’</p> +<p>Iron-face laughed and said: ‘Hast thou been to the Woodland-Carles? +are their women fairer than our cousins?’</p> +<p>Face-of-god took up the Bride’s hand in his and kissed it and +laid it to his cheek; and then turned to his father and said: ‘Nay, +father, I saw not the Wood-carles, nor went to their abode; and on no +day do I lust after their women. Moreover, I brought home a roebuck +of the fattest; but I was over-late for Kettel, and the flesh was ready +for the board by then I came.’</p> +<p>‘Well, son,’ quoth Iron-face, for he was merry, ‘a +roebuck is but a little deer for such big men as are thou and I. +But I rede thee take the Bride along with thee the next time; and she +shall seek whilest thou sleepest, and hit when thou missest.’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god smiled, but he frowned somewhat also, and he said: +‘Well were that, indeed! But if ye must needs drag a true +tale out of me: that roebuck I shot at the very edge of the wood nigh +to the Mote-stead as I was coming home: harts had I seen in the wood +and its lawns, and boars, and bucks, and loosed not at them: for indeed +when I awoke in the morning in that wood-lawn ye wot of, I wandered +up and down with my bow unbent. So it was that I fared as if I +were seeking something, I know not what, that should fill up something +lacking to me, I know not what. Thus I felt in myself even so +long as I was underneath the black boughs, and there was none beside +me and before me, and none to turn aback to: but when I came out again +into the sunshine, and I saw the fair dale, and the happy abode lying +before me, and folk abroad in the meads merry in the eventide; then +was I full fain of it, and loathed the wood as an empty thing that had +nought to give me; and lo you! all that I had been longing for in the +wood, was it not in this House and ready to my hand? - and that is good +meseemeth.’</p> +<p>Therewith he drank of the cup which the Bride put into his hand after +she had kissed the rim, but when he had set it down again he spake once +more:</p> +<p>‘And yet now I am sitting honoured and well-beloved in the +House of my Fathers, with the holy hearth sparkling and gleaming down +there before me; and she that shall bear my children sitting soft and +kind by my side, and the bold lads I shall one day lead in battle drinking +out of my very cup: now it seems to me that amidst all this, the dark +cold wood, wherein abide but the beasts and the Foes of the Gods, is +bidding me to it and drawing me thither. Narrow is the Dale and +the World is wide; I would it were dawn and daylight, that I might be +afoot again.’</p> +<p>And he half rose up from his place. But his father bent his +brow on him and said: ‘Kinsman, thou hast a long tongue for a +half-trained whelp: nor see I whitherward thy mind is wandering, but +if it be on the road of a lad’s desire to go further and fare +worse. Hearken then, I will offer thee somewhat! Soon shall +the West-country merchants be here with their winter truck. How +sayest thou? hast thou a mind to fare back with them, and look on the +Plain and its Cities, and take and give with the strangers? To +whom indeed thou shalt be nothing save a purse with a few lumps of gold +in it, or maybe a spear in the stranger’s band on the stricken +field, or a bow on the wall of an alien city. This is a craft +which thou mayst well learn, since thou shalt be a chieftain; a craft +good to learn, however grievous it be in the learning. And I myself +have been there; for in my youth I desired sore to look on the world +beyond the mountains; so I went, and I filled my belly with the fruit +of my own desires, and a bitter meat was that; but now that it has passed +through me, and I yet alive, belike I am more of a grown man for having +endured its gripe. Even so may it well be with thee, son; so go +if thou wilt; and thou shalt go with my blessing, and with gold and +wares and wain and spearmen.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘I thank thee, for it +is well offered; but I will not go, for I have no lust for the Plain +and its Cities; I love the Dale well, and all that is round about it; +therein will I live and die.’</p> +<p>Therewith he fell a-musing; and the Bride looked at him anxiously, +but spake not. Sooth to say her heart was sinking, as though she +foreboded some new thing, which should thrust itself into their merry +life.</p> +<p>But the old man Stone-face took up the word and said:</p> +<p>‘Son Gold-mane, it behoveth me to speak, since belike I know +the wild-wood better than most, and have done for these three-score +and ten years; to my cost. Now I perceive that thou longest for +the wood and the innermost of it; and wot ye what? This longing +will at whiles entangle the sons of our chieftains, though this Alderman +that now is hath been free therefrom, which is well for him. For, +time was this longing came over me, and I went whither it led me: overlong +it were to tell of all that befell me because of it, and how my heart +bled thereby. So sorry were the tidings that came of it, that +now meseemeth my heart should be of stone and not my face, had it not +been for the love wherewith I have loved the sons of the kindred. +Therefore, son, it were not ill if ye went west away with the merchants +this winter, and learned the dealings of the cities, and brought us +back tales thereof.’</p> +<p>But Gold-mane cried out somewhat angrily, ‘I tell thee, foster-father, +that I have no mind for the cities and their men and their fools and +their whores and their runagates. But as for the wood and its +wonders, I have done with it, save for hunting there along with others +of the Folk. So let thy mind be at ease; and for the rest, I will +do what the Alderman commandeth, and whatso my father craveth of me.’</p> +<p>‘And that is well, son,’ said Stone-face, ‘if what +ye say come to pass, as sore I misdoubt me it will not. But well +it were, well it were! For such things are in the wood, yea and +before ye come to its innermost, as may well try the stoutest heart. +Therein are Kobbolds, and Wights that love not men, things unto whom +the grief of men is as the sound of the fiddle-bow unto us. And +there abide the ghosts of those that may not rest; and there wander +the dwarfs and the mountain-dwellers, the dealers in marvels, the givers +of gifts that destroy Houses; the forgers of the curse that clingeth +and the murder that flitteth to and fro. There moreover are the +lairs of Wights in the shapes of women, that draw a young man’s +heart out of his body, and fill up the empty place with desire never +to be satisfied, that they may mock him therewith and waste his manhood +and destroy him. Nor say I much of the strong-thieves that dwell +there, since thou art a valiant sword; or of them who have been made +Wolves of the Holy Places; or of the Murder-Carles, the remnants and +off-scourings of wicked and wretched Folks - men who think as much of +the life of a man as of the life of a fly. Yet happiest is the +man whom they shall tear in pieces, than he who shall live burdened +by the curse of the Foes of the Gods.’</p> +<p>The housemaster looked on his son as the old carle spake, and a cloud +gathered on his face a while; and when Stone-face had made an end he +spake:</p> +<p>‘This is long and evil talk for the end of a merry day, O fosterer! +Wilt thou not drink a draught, O Redesman, and then stand up and set +thy fiddle-bow a-dancing, and cause it draw some fair words after it? +For my cousin’s face hath grown sadder than a young maid’s +should be, and my son’s eyes gleam with thoughts that are far +away from us and abroad in the wild-wood seeking marvels.’</p> +<p>Then arose a man of middle-age from the top of the endlong bench +on the east side of the hall: a man tall, thin and scant-haired, with +a nose like an eagle’s neb: he reached out his hand for the bowl, +and when they had given to him he handled it, and raised it aloft and +cried:</p> +<p>‘Here I drink a double health to Face-of-god and the Bride, +and the love that lieth between them, and the love betwixt them twain +and us.’</p> +<p>He drank therewith, and the wine went up and down the hall, and all +men drank, both carles and queens, with shouting and great joy. +Then Redesman put down the cup (for it had come into his hands again), +and reached his hand to the wall behind him, and took down his fiddle +hanging there in its case, and drew it out and fell to tuning it, while +the hall grew silent to hearken: then he handled the bow and laid it +on the strings till they wailed and chuckled sweetly, and when the song +was well awake and stirring briskly, then he lifted up his voice and +sang:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>The Minstrel saith:</i></p> +<p>‘O why on this morning, ye maids, are ye tripping<br /> Aloof +from the meadows yet fresh with the dew,<br />Where under the west wind +the river is lipping<br /> The fragrance of mint, the +white blooms and the blue?</p> +<p>For rough is the Portway where panting ye wander;<br /> On +your feet and your gown-hems the dust lieth dun;<br />Come trip through +the grass and the meadow-sweet yonder,<br /> And forget +neath the willows the sword of the sun.</p> +<p><i>The Maidens answer:</i></p> +<p>Though fair are the moon-daisies down by the river,<br /> And +soft is the grass and the white clover sweet;<br />Though twixt us and +the rock-wall the hot glare doth quiver,<br /> And +the dust of the wheel-way is dun on our feet;</p> +<p>Yet here on the way shall we walk on this morning<br /> Though +the sun burneth here, and sweet, cool is the mead;<br />For here when +in old days the Burg gave its warning,<br /> Stood +stark under weapons the doughty of deed.</p> +<p>Here came on the aliens their proud words a-crying,<br /> And +here on our threshold they stumbled and fell;<br />Here silent at even +the steel-clad were lying,<br /> And here were our +mothers the story to tell.</p> +<p>Here then on the morn of the eve of the wedding<br /> We +pray to the Mighty that we too may bear<br />Such war-walls for warding +of orchard and steading,<br /> That the new days be +merry as old days were dear.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Therewith he made an end, and shouts and glad cries arose all about +the hall; and an old man arose and cried: ‘A cup to the memory +of the Mighty of the Day of the Warding of the Ways.’ For +you must know this song told of a custom of the Folk, held in memory +of a time of bygone battle, wherein they had overthrown a great host +of aliens on the Portway betwixt the river and the cliffs, two furlongs +from the gate of Burgstead. So now two weeks before Midsummer +those maidens who were presently to be wedded went early in the morning +to that place clad in very fair raiment, swords girt to their sides +and spears in their hands, and abode there on the highway from morn +till even as though they were a guard to it. And they made merry +there, singing songs and telling tales of times past: and at the sunsetting +their grooms came to fetch them away to the Feast of the Eve of the +Wedding.</p> +<p>While the song was a-singing Face-of-god took the Bride’s hand +in his and caressed it, and was soft and blithe with her; and she reddened +and trembled for pleasure, and called to mind wedding feasts that had +been, and fair brides that she had seen thereat, and she forgot her +fears and her heart was at peace again.</p> +<p>And Iron-face looked well-pleased on the two from time to time, and +smiled, but forbore words to them.</p> +<p>But up and down the hall men talked with one another about things +long ago betid: for their hearts were high and they desired deeds; but +in that fair Dale so happy were the years from day to day that there +was but little to tell of. So deepened the night and waned, and +Gold-mane and the Bride still talked sweetly together, and at whiles +kindly to the others; and by seeming he had clean forgotten the wood +and its wonders.</p> +<p>Then at last the Alderman called for the cup of good-night, and men +drank thereof and went their ways to bed.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER IV. FACE-OF-GOD FARETH TO THE WOOD AGAIN</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>When it was the earliest morning and dawn was but just beginning, +Face-of-god awoke and rose up from his bed, and came forth into the +hall naked in his shirt, and stood by the hearth, wherein the piled-up +embers were yet red, and looked about and could see nothing stirring +in the dimness: then he fetched water and washed the night-tide off +him, and clad himself in haste, and was even as he was yesterday, save +that he left his bow and quiver in their place and took instead a short +casting-spear; moreover he took a leathern scrip and went therewith +to the buttery, and set therein bread and flesh and a little gilded +beaker; and all this he did with but little noise; for he would not +be questioned, lest he should have to answer himself as well as others.</p> +<p>Thus he went quietly out of doors, for the door was but latched, +since no bolts or bars or locks were used in Burgstead, and through +the town-gate, which stood open, save when rumours of war were about. +He turned his face straight towards Wildlake’s Way, walking briskly, +but at whiles looking back over his shoulder toward the East to note +what way was made by the dawning, and how the sky lightened above the +mountain passes.</p> +<p>By then he was come to the place where the Maiden Ward was held in +the summer the dawn was so far forward that all things had their due +colours, and were clear to see in the shadowless day. It was a +bright morning, with an easterly air stirring that drave away the haze +and dried the meadows, which had otherwise been rimy; for it was cold. +Gold-mane lingered on the place a little, and his eyes fell on the road, +as dusty yet as in Redesman’s song; for the autumn had been very +dry, and the strip of green that edged the outside of the way was worn +and dusty also. On the edge of it, half in the dusty road, half +on the worn grass, was a long twine of briony red-berried and black-leaved; +and right in the midst of the road were two twigs of great-leaved sturdy +pollard oak, as though they had been thrown aside there yesterday by +women or children a-sporting; and the deep white dust yet held the marks +of feet, some bare, some shod, crossing each other here and there. +Face-of-god smiled as he passed on, as a man with a happy thought; for +his mind showed him a picture of the Bride as she would be leading the +Maiden Ward next summer, and singing first among the singers, and he +saw her as clearly as he had often seen her verily, and before him was +the fashion of her hands and all her body, and the little mark on her +right wrist, and the place where her arm whitened, because the sleeve +guarded it against the sun, which had long been pleasant unto him, and +the little hollow in her chin, and the lock of red-brown hair waving +in the wind above her brow, and shining in the sun as brightly as the +Alderman’s cunningest work of golden wire. Soft and sweet +seemed that picture, till he almost seemed to hear her sweet voice calling +to him, and desire of her so took hold of the youth, that it stirred +him up to go swiftlier as he strode on, the day brightening behind him.</p> +<p>Now was it nigh sunrise, and he began to meet folk on the way, though +not many; since for most their way lay afield, and not towards the Burg. +The first was a Woodlander, tall and gaunt, striding beside his ass, +whose panniers were laden with charcoal. The carle’s daughter, +a little maiden of seven winters, riding on the ass’s back betwixt +the panniers, and prattling to herself in the cold morning; for she +was pleased with the clear light in the east, and the smooth wide turf +of the meadows, as one who had not often been far from the shadow of +the heavy trees of the wood, and their dark wall round about the clearing +where they dwelt. Face-of-god gave the twain the sele of the day +in merry fashion as he passed them by, and the sober dark-faced man +nodded to him but spake no word, and the child stayed her prattle to +watch him as he went by.</p> +<p>Then came the sound of the rattle of wheels, and, as he doubled an +angle of the rock-wall, he came upon a wain drawn by four dun kine, +wherein lay a young woman all muffled up against the cold with furs +and cloths; beside the yoke-beasts went her man, a well-knit trim-faced +Dalesman clad bravely in holiday raiment, girt with a goodly sword, +bearing a bright steel helm on his head, in his hand a long spear with +a gay red and white shaft done about with copper bands. He looked +merry and proud of his wain-load, and the woman was smiling kindly on +him from out of her scarlet and fur; but now she turned a weary happy +face on Gold-mane, for they knew him, as did all men of the Dale.</p> +<p>So he stopped when they met, for the goodman had already stayed his +slow beasts, and the goodwife had risen a little on her cushions to +greet him, yet slowly and but a little, for she was great with child, +and not far from her time. That knew Gold-mane well, and what +was toward, and why the goodman wore his fine clothes, and why the wain +was decked with oak-boughs and the yoke-beasts with their best gilded +bells and copper-adorned harness. For it was a custom with many +of the kindreds that the goodwife should fare to her father’s +house to lie in with her first babe, and the day of her coming home +was made a great feast in the house. So then Face-of-god cried +out: ‘Hail to thee, O Warcliff! Shrewd is the wind this +morning, and thou dost well to heed it carefully, this thine orchard, +this thy garden, this thy fair apple-tree! To a good hall thou +wendest, and the Wine of Increase shall be sweet there this even.’</p> +<p>Then smiled Warcliff all across his face, and the goodwife hung her +head and reddened. Said the goodman: ‘Wilt thou not be with +us, son of the Alderman, as surely thy father shall be?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘though I were fain of +it: my own matters carry me away.’</p> +<p>‘What matters?’ said Warcliff; ‘perchance thou +art for the cities this autumn?’</p> +<p>Face-of-god answered somewhat stiffly: ‘Nay, I am not;’ +and then more kindly, and smiling, ‘All roads lead not down to +the Plain, friend.’</p> +<p>‘What road then farest thou away from us?’ said the goodwife.</p> +<p>‘The way of my will,’ he answered.</p> +<p>‘And what way is that?’ said she; ‘take heed, lest +I get a longing to know. For then must thou needs tell me, or +deal with the carle there beside thee.’</p> +<p>‘Nay, goodwife,’ said Face-of-god, ‘let not that +longing take thee; for on that matter I am even as wise as thou. +Now good speed to thee and to the new-comer!’</p> +<p>Therewith he went close up to the wain, and reached out his hand +to her, and she gave him hers and he kissed it, and so went his ways +smiling kindly on them. Then the carle cried to his kine, and +they bent down their heads to the yoke; and presently, as he walked +on, he heard the rumble of the wain mingling with the tinkling of their +bells, which in a little while became measured and musical, and sounded +above the creaking of the axles and the rattle of the gear and the roll +of the great wheels over the road: and so it grew thinner and thinner +till it all died away behind him.</p> +<p>He was now come to where the river turned away from the sheer rock-wall, +which was not so high there as in most other places, as there had been +in old time long screes from the cliff, which had now grown together, +with the waxing of herbs and the washing down of the earth on to them, +and made a steady slope or low hill going down riverward. Over +this the road lifted itself above the level of the meadows, keeping +a little way from the cliffs, while on the other side its bank was somewhat +broken and steep here and there. As Face-of-god came up to one +of these broken places, the sun rose over the eastern pass, and the +meadows grew golden with its long beams. He lingered, and looked +back under his hand, and as he did so heard the voices and laughter +of women coming up from the slope below him, and presently a young woman +came struggling up the broken bank with hand and knee, and cast herself +down on the roadside turf laughing and panting. She was a long-limbed +light-made woman, dark-faced and black-haired: amidst her laughter she +looked up and saw Gold-mane, who had stopped at once when he saw her; +she held out her hands to him, and said lightly, though her face flushed +withal:</p> +<p>‘Come hither, thou, and help the others to climb the bank; +for they are beaten in the race, and now must they do after my will; +that was the forfeit.’</p> +<p>He went up to her, and took her hands and kissed them, as was the +custom of the Dale, and said:</p> +<p>‘Hail to thee, Long-coat! who be they, and whither away this +morning early?’</p> +<p>She looked hard at him, and fondly belike, as she answered slowly: +‘They be the two maidens of my father’s house, whom thou +knowest; and our errand, all three of us, is to Burgstead, the Feast +of the Wine of Increase which shall be drunk this even.’</p> +<p>As she spake came another woman half up the bank, to whom went Face-of-god, +and, taking her hands, drew her up while she laughed merrily in his +face: he saluted her as he had Long-coat, and then with a laugh turned +about to wait for the third; who came indeed, but after a little while, +for she had abided, hearing their voices. Her also Gold-mane drew +up, and kissed her hands, and she lay on the grass by Long-coat, but +the second maiden stood up beside the young man. She was white-skinned +and golden-haired, a very fair damsel, whereas the last-comer was but +comely, as were well-nigh all the women of the Dale.</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god, looking on the three: ‘How comes it, maidens, +that ye are but in your kirtles this sharp autumn morning? or where +have ye left your gowns or your cloaks?’</p> +<p>For indeed they were clad but in close-fitting blue kirtles of fine +wool, embroidered about the hems with gold and coloured threads.</p> +<p>The last-comer laughed and said: ‘What ails thee, Gold-mane, +to be so careful of us, as if thou wert our mother or our nurse? +Yet if thou must needs know, there hang our gowns on the thorn-bush +down yonder; for we have been running a match and a forfeit; to wit, +that she who was last on the highway should go down again and bring +them up all three; and now that is my day’s work: but since thou +art here, Alderman’s son, thou shalt go down instead of me and +fetch them up.’</p> +<p>But he laughed merrily and outright, and said: ‘That will I +not, for there be but twenty-four hours in the day, and what between +eating and drinking and talking to fair maidens, I have enough to do +in every one of them. Wasteful are ye women, and simple is your +forfeit. Now will I, who am the Alderman’s son, give forth +a doom, and will ordain that one of you fetch up the gowns yourselves, +and that Long-coat be the one; for she is the fleetest-footed and ablest +thereto. Will ye take my doom? for later on I shall not be wiser.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said the fair woman, ‘not because thou art +the Alderman’s son, but because thou art the fairest man of the +Dale, and mayst bid us poor souls what thou wilt.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god reddened at her words, and the speaker and the last-comer +laughed; but Long-coat held her peace: she cast one very sober look +on him, and then ran lightly down the bent; he drew near the edge of +it, and watched her going; for her light-foot slimness was fair to look +on: and he noted that when she was nigh the thorn-bush whereon hung +the bright-broidered gowns, and deemed belike that she was not seen, +she kissed both her hands where he had kissed them erst.</p> +<p>Thereat he drew aback and turned away shyly, scarce looking at the +other twain, who smiled on him with somewhat jeering looks; but he bade +them farewell and departed speedily; and if they spoke, it was but softly, +for he heard their voices no more.</p> +<p>He went on under the sunlight which was now gilding the outstanding +stones of the cliffs, and still his mind was set upon the Bride; and +his meeting with the mother of the yet unborn baby, and with the three +women with their freshness and fairness, did somehow turn his thought +the more upon her, since she was the woman who was to be his amongst +all women, for she was far fairer than any one of them; and through +all manner of life and through all kinds of deeds would he be with her, +and know more of her fairness and kindness than any other could: and +him-seemed he could see pictures of her and of him amidst all these +deeds and ways.</p> +<p>Now he went very swiftly; for he was eager, though he knew not for +what, and he thought but little of the things on which his eyes fell. +He met none else on the road till he was come to Wildlake’s Way, +though he saw folk enough down in the meadows; he was soon amidst the +first of the trees, and without making any stay set his face east and +somewhat north, that is, toward the slopes that led to the great mountains. +He said to himself aloud, as he wended the wood: ‘Strange! yestereven +I thought much of the wood, and I set my mind on not going thither, +and this morning I thought nothing of it, and here am I amidst its trees, +and wending towards its innermost.’</p> +<p>His way was easy at first, because the wood for a little space was +all of beech, so that there was no undergrowth, and he went lightly +betwixt the tall grey and smooth boles; albeit his heart was nought +so gay as it was in the dale amidst the sunshine. After a while +the beech-wood grew thinner, and at last gave out altogether, and he +came into a space of rough broken ground with nought but a few scrubby +oaks and thorn-bushes growing thereon here and there. The sun +was high in the heavens now, and shone brightly down on the waste, though +there were a few white clouds high up above him. The rabbits scuttled +out of the grass before him; here and there he turned aside from a stone +on which lay coiled an adder sunning itself; now and again both hart +and hind bounded away from before him, or a sounder of wild swine ran +grunting away toward closer covert. But nought did he see but +the common sights and sounds of the woodland; nor did he look for aught +else, for he knew this part of the woodland indifferent well.</p> +<p>He held on over this treeless waste for an hour or more, when the +ground began to be less rugged, and he came upon trees again, but thinly +scattered, oak and ash and hornbeam not right great, with thickets of +holly and blackthorn between them. The set of the ground was still +steadily up to the east and north-east, and he followed it as one who +wendeth an assured way. At last before him seemed to rise a wall +of trees and thicket; but when he drew near to it, lo! an opening in +a certain place, and a little path as if men were wont to thread the +tangle of the wood thereby; though hitherto he had noted no slot of +men, nor any sign of them, since he had plunged into the deep of the +beech-wood. He took the path as one who needs must, and went his +ways as it led. In sooth it was well-nigh blind, but he was a +deft woodsman, and by means of it skirted many a close thicket that +had otherwise stayed him. So on he went, and though the boughs +were close enough overhead, and the sun came through but in flecks, +he judged that it was growing towards noon, and he wotted well that +he was growing aweary. For he had been long afoot, and the more +part of the time on a rough way, or breasting a slope which was at whiles +steep enough.</p> +<p>At last the track led him skirting about an exceeding close thicket +into a small clearing, through which ran a little woodland rill amidst +rushes and dead leaves: there was a low mound near the eastern side +of this wood-lawn, as though there had been once a dwelling of man there, +but no other sign or slot of man was there.</p> +<p>So Face-of-god made stay in that place, casting himself down beside +the rill to rest him and eat and drink somewhat. Whatever thoughts +had been with him through the wood (and they been many) concerning his +House and his name, and his father, and the journey he might make to +the cities of the Westland, and what was to befall him when he was wedded, +and what war or trouble should be on his hands - all this was now mingled +together and confused by this rest amidst his weariness. He laid +down his scrip, and drew his meat from it and ate what he would, and +dipping his gilded beaker into the brook, drank water smacking of the +damp musty savour of the woodland; and then his head sank back on a +little mound in the short turf, and he fell asleep at once. A +long dream he had in short space; and therein were blent his thoughts +of the morning with the deeds of yesterday; and other matters long forgotten +in his waking hours came back to his slumber in unordered confusion: +all which made up for him pictures clear, but of little meaning, save +that, as oft befalls in dreams, whatever he was a-doing he felt himself +belated.</p> +<p>When he awoke, smiling at something strange in his gone-by dream, +he looked up to the heavens, thinking to see signs of the even at hand, +for he seemed to have been dreaming so long. The sky was thinly +overcast by now, but by his wonted woodcraft he knew the whereabouts +of the sun, and that it was scant an hour after noon. He sat there +till he was wholly awake, and then drank once more of the woodland water; +and he said to himself, but out loud, for he was fain of the sound of +a man’s voice, though it were but his own:</p> +<p>‘What is mine errand hither? Whither wend I? What +shall I have done to-morrow that I have hitherto left undone? +Or what manner of man shall I be then other than I am now?’</p> +<p>Yet though he said the words he failed to think the thought, or it +left him in a moment of time, and he thought but of the Bride and her +kindness. Yet that abode with him but a moment, and again he saw +himself and those two women on the highway edge, and Long-coat lingering +on the slope below, kissing his kisses on her hands; and he was sorry +that she desired him over-much, for she was a fair woman and a friendly. +But all that also flowed from him at once, and he had no thought in +him but that he also desired something that he lacked: and this was +a burden to him, and he rose up frowning, and said to himself, ‘Am +I become a mere sport of dreams, whether I sleep or wake? I will +go backward - or forward, but will think no more.’</p> +<p>Then he ordered his gear again, and took the path onward and upward +toward the Great Mountains; and the track was even fainter than before +for a while, so that he had to seek his way diligently.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER V. FACE-OF-GOD FALLS IN WITH MENFOLK ON THE MOUNTAIN</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Now he plodded on steadily, and for a long time the forest changed +but little, and of wild things he saw only a few of those that love +the closest covert. The ground still went up and up, though at +whiles were hollows, and steeper bents out of them again, and the half-blind +path or slot still led past the close thickets and fallen trees, and +he made way without let or hindrance. At last once more the wood +began to thin, and the trees themselves to be smaller and gnarled and +ill-grown: therewithal the day was waning, and the sky was quite clear +again as the afternoon grew into a fair autumn evening.</p> +<p>Now the trees failed altogether, and the slope grown steeper was +covered with heather and ling; and looking up, he saw before him quite +near by seeming in the clear even (though indeed they were yet far away) +the snowy peaks flushed with the sinking sun against the frosty dark-grey +eastern sky; and below them the dark rock-mountains, and below these +again, and nigh to him indeed, the fells covered with pine-woods and +looking like a wall to the heaths he trod.</p> +<p>He stayed a little while and turned his head to look at the way whereby +he had come; but that way a swell of the oak-forest hid everything but +the wood itself, making a wall behind him as the pine-wood made a wall +before. There came across him then a sharp memory of the boding +words which Stone-face had spoken last night, and he felt as if he were +now indeed within the trap. But presently he laughed and said: +‘I am a fool: this comes of being alone in the dark wood and the +dismal waste, after the merry faces of the Dale had swept away my foolish +musings of yesterday and the day before. Lo! here I stand, a man +of the Face, sword and axe by my side; if death come, it can but come +once; and if I fear not death, what shall make me afraid? The +Gods hate me not, and will not hurt me; and they are not ugly, but beauteous.’</p> +<p>Therewith he strode on again, and soon came to a place where the +ground sank into a shallow valley and the ling gave place to grass for +a while, and there were tall old pines scattered about, and betwixt +them grey rocks; this he passed through, climbing a steep bent out of +it, and the pines were all about him now, though growing wide apart, +till at last he came to where they thickened into a wood, not very close, +wherethrough he went merrily, singing to himself and swinging his spear. +He was soon through this wood, and came on to a wide well-grassed wood-lawn, +hedged by the wood aforesaid on three sides, but sloping up slowly toward +the black wall of the thicker pine-wood on the fourth side, and about +half a furlong overthwart and endlong. The sun had set while he +was in the last wood, but it was still broad daylight on the wood-lawn, +and as he stood there he was ware of a house under the pine-wood on +the other side, built long and low, much like the houses of the Woodland-Carles, +but rougher fashioned and of unhewn trees. He gazed on it, and +said aloud to himself as his wont was:</p> +<p>‘Marvellous! here is a dwelling of man, scarce a day’s +journey from Burgstead; yet have I never heard tell of it: may happen +some of the Woodland-Carles have built it, and are on some errand of +hunting peltries up in the mountains, or maybe are seeking copper and +tin among the rocks. Well, at least let us go see what manner +of men dwell there, and if they are minded for a guest to-night; for +fain were I of a bed beneath a roof, and of a board with strong meat +and drink on it.’</p> +<p>Therewith he set forward, not heeding much that the wood he had passed +through was hard on his left hand; but he had gone but twenty paces +when he saw a red thing at the edge of the wood, and then a glitter, +and a spear came whistling forth, and smote his own spear so hard close +to the steel that it flew out of his hand; then came a great shout, +and a man clad in a scarlet kirtle ran forth on him. Face-of-god +had his axe in his hand in a twinkling, and ran at once to meet his +foe; but the man had the hill on his side as he rushed on with a short-sword +in his hand. Axe and sword clashed together for a moment of time, +and then both the men rolled over on the grass together, and Face-of-god +as he fell deemed that he heard the shrill cry of a woman. Now +Face-of-god found that he was the nethermost, for if he was strong, +yet was his foe stronger; the axe had flown out of his hand also, while +the strange man still kept a hold of his short-sword; and presently, +though he still struggled all he could, he saw the man draw back his +hand to smite with the said sword; and at that nick of time the foeman’s +knee was on his breast, his left hand was doubled back behind him, and +his right wrist was gripped hard in the stranger’s left hand. +Even therewith his ears, sharpened by the coming death, heard the sound +of footsteps and fluttering raiment drawing near; something dark came +between him and the sky; there was the sound of a great stroke, and +the big man loosened his grip and fell off him to one side.</p> +<p>Face-of-god leapt up and ran to his axe and got hold of it; but turning +round found himself face to face with a tall woman holding in her hand +a stout staff like the limb of a tree. She was calm and smiling, +though forsooth it was she who had stricken the stroke and stayed the +sword from his throat. His hand and axe dropped down to his side +when he saw what it was that faced him, and that the woman was young +and fair; so he spake to her and said:</p> +<p>‘What aileth, maiden? is this man thy foe? doth he oppress +thee? shall I slay him?’</p> +<p>She laughed and said: ‘Thou art open-handed in thy proffers: +he might have asked the like concerning thee but a minute ago.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, yea,’ said Gold-mane, laughing also, ‘but +he asked it not of thee.’</p> +<p>‘That is sooth,’ she said, ‘but since thou hast +asked me, I will tell thee that if thou slay him it will be my harm +as well as his; and in my country a man that taketh a gift is not wont +to break the giver’s head with it straightway. The man is +my brother, O stranger, and presently, if thou wilt, thou mayst be eating +at the same board with him. Or if thou wilt, thou mayst go thy +ways unhurt into the wood. But I had liefer of the twain that +thou wert in our house to-night; for thou hast a wrong against us.’</p> +<p>Her voice was sweet and clear, and she spake the last words kindly, +and drew somewhat nigher to Gold-mane. Therewithal the smitten +man sat up, and put his hand to his head, and quoth he:</p> +<p>‘Angry is my sister! good it is to wear the helm abroad when +she shaketh the nut-trees.’</p> +<p><i>‘</i> Nay,’ said she, ‘it is thy luck that thou +wert bare-headed, else had I been forced to smite thee on the face. +Thou churl, since when hath it been our wont to thrust knives into a +guest, who is come of great kin, a man of gentle heart and fair face? +Come hither and handsel him self-doom for thy fool’s onset!’</p> +<p>The man rose to his feet and said: ‘Well, sister, least said, +soonest mended. A clout on the head is worse than a woman’s +chiding; but since ye have given me one, ye may forbear the other.’</p> +<p>Therewith he drew near to them. He was a very big-made man, +most stalwarth, with dark red hair and a thin pointed beard; his nose +was straight and fine, his eyes grey and well-opened, but somewhat fierce +withal. Yet was he in nowise evil-looking; he seemed some thirty +summers old. He was clad in a short scarlet kirtle, a goodly garment, +with a hood of like web pulled off his head on to his shoulders: he +bore a great gold ring on his left arm, and a collar of gold came down +on to his breast from under his hood.</p> +<p>As for the woman, she was clad in a long white linen smock, and over +it a short gown of dark blue woollen, and she had skin shoes on her +feet.</p> +<p>Now the man came up to Face-of-god, and took his hand and said: ‘I +deemed thee a foe, and I may not have over-many foes alive: but it seems +that thou art to be a friend, and that is well and better; so herewith +I handsel thee self-doom in the matter of the onslaught.’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god laughed and said: ‘The doom is soon given +forth; against the tumble on the grass I set the clout on the head; +there is nought left over to pay to any man’s son.’</p> +<p>Said the scarlet-clad man: ‘Belike by thine eyes thou art a +true man, and wilt not bewray me. Now is there no foeman here, +but rather maybe a friend both now and in time to come.’ +Therewith he cast his arms about Face-of-god and kissed him. But +Face-of-god turned about to the woman and said: ‘Is the peace +wholly made?’</p> +<p>She shook her head and said soberly: ‘Nay, thou art too fair +for a woman to kiss.’</p> +<p>He flushed red, as his wont was when a woman praised him; yet was +his heart full of pleasure and well-liking. But she laid her hand +on his shoulder and said: ‘Now is it for thee to choose betwixt +the wild-wood and the hall, and whether thou wilt be a guest or a wayfarer +this night.’</p> +<p>As she touched him there took hold of him a sweetness of pleasure +he had never felt erst, and he answered: ‘I will be thy guest +and not thy stranger.’</p> +<p>‘Come then,’ she said, and took his hand in hers, so +that he scarce felt the earth under his feet, as they went all three +together toward the house in the gathering dusk, while eastward where +the peaks of the great mountains dipped was a light that told of the +rising of the moon.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER VI. OF FACE-OF-GOD AND THOSE MOUNTAIN-DWELLERS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>A yard or two from the threshold Gold-mane hung back a moment, entangled +in some such misgiving as a man is wont to feel when he is just about +to do some new deed, but is not yet deep in the story; his new friends +noted that, for they smiled each in their own way, and the woman drew +her hand away from his. Face-of-god held out his still as though +to take hers again, and therewithal he changed countenance and said +as though he had stayed but to ask that question:</p> +<p>‘Tell me thy name, tall man; and thou, fair woman, tell me +thine; for how can we talk together else?’</p> +<p>The man laughed outright and said: ‘The young chieftain thinks +that this house also should be his! Nay, young man, I know what +is in thy thought, be not ashamed that thou art wary; and be assured! +We shall hurt thee no more than thou hast been hurt. Now as to +my name; the name that was born with me is gone: the name that was given +me hath been taken from me: now I belike must give myself a name, and +that shall be Wild-wearer; but it may be that thou thyself shalt one +day give me another, and call me Guest.’</p> +<p>His sister gazed at him solemnly as he spoke, and Face-of-god beholding +her the while, deemed that her beauty grew and grew till she seemed +as aweful as a Goddess; and into his mind it came that this over-strong +man and over-lovely woman were nought mortal, and they withal dealing +with him as father and mother deal with a wayward child: then for a +moment his heart failed him, and he longed for the peace of Burgdale, +and even the lonely wood. But therewith she turned to him and +let her hand come into his again, and looked kindly on him and said: +‘And as for me, call me the Friend; the name is good and will +serve for many things.’</p> +<p>He looked down from her face and his eyes lighted on her hand, and +when he noted even amid the evening dusk how fair and lovely it was +fashioned, and yet as though it were deft in the crafts that the daughters +of menfolk use, his fear departed, and the pleasure of his longing filled +his heart, and he drew her hand to him to kiss it; but she held it back. +Then he said: ‘It is the custom of the Dale to all women.’</p> +<p>So she let him kiss her hand, heeding the kiss nothing, and said +soberly:</p> +<p>‘Then art thou of Burgdale, and if it were lawful to guess, +I would say that thy name is Face-of-god, of the House of the Face.’</p> +<p>‘Even so it is,’ said he, ‘but in the Dale those +that love me do mostly call me Gold-mane.’</p> +<p>‘It is well named,’ she said, ‘and seldom wilt +thou be called otherwise, for thou wilt be well-beloved. But come +in now, Gold-mane, for night is at hand, and here have we meat and lodging +such as an hungry and weary man may take; though we be broken people, +dwellers in the waste.’</p> +<p>Therewith she led him gently over the threshold into the hall, and +it seemed to him as if she were the fairest and the noblest of all the +Queens of ancient story.</p> +<p>When he was in the house he looked and saw that, rough as it was +without it lacked not fairness within. The floor was of hard-trodden +earth strewn with pine-twigs, and with here and there brown bearskins +laid on it: there was a standing table near the upper end athwart the +hall, and a days beyond that, but no endlong table. Gold-mane +looked to the shut-beds, and saw that they were large and fair, though +there were but a few of them; and at the lower end was a loft for a +sleeping chamber dight very fairly with broidered cloths. The +hangings on the walls, though they left some places bare which were +hung with fresh boughs, were fairer than any he had ever seen, so that +he deemed that they must come from far countries and the City of Cities: +therein were images wrought of warriors and fair women of old time and +their dealings with the Gods and the Giants, and Wondrous wights; and +he deemed that this was the story of some great kindred, and that their +token and the sign of their banner must needs be the Wood-wolf, for +everywhere was it wrought in these pictured webs. Perforce he +looked long and earnestly at these fair things, for the hall was not +dark yet, because the brands on the hearth were flaming their last, +and when Wild-wearer beheld him so gazing, he stood up and looked too +for a moment, and then smote his right hand on the hilt of his sword, +and turned away and strode up and down the hall as one in angry thought.</p> +<p>But the woman, even the Friend, bestirred herself for the service +of the guest, and brought water for his hands and feet, and when she +had washed him, bore him the wine of Welcome and drank to him and bade +him drink; and he all the while was shamefaced; for it was to him as +if one of the Ladies of the Heavenly Burg were doing him service. +Then she went away by a door at the lower end of the hall, and Wild-wearer +came and sat down by Gold-mane, and fell a-talking with him about the +ways of the Dalesmen, and their garths, and the pastures and growths +thereof; and what temper the carles themselves were of; which were good +men, which were ill, which was loved and which scorned; no otherwise +than if he had been the goodman of some neighbouring dale; and Gold-mane +told him whatso he knew, for he saw no harm therein.</p> +<p>After a while the outer door opened, and there came in a woman of +some five-and-twenty winters, trimly and strongly built; short-skirted +she was and clad as a hunter, with a bow in her hand and a quiver at +her back: she unslung a pouch, which she emptied at Wild-wearer’s +feet of a leash of hares and two brace of mountain grouse; of Face-of-god +she took but little heed.</p> +<p>Said Wild-wearer: ‘This is good for to-morrow, not for to-day; +the meat is well-nigh on the board.’</p> +<p>Then Gold-mane smiled, for he called to mind his home-coming of yesterday. +But the woman said:</p> +<p>‘The fault is not mine; she told me of the coming guest but +three hours agone.’</p> +<p>‘Ay?’ said Wild-wearer, ‘she looked for a guest +then?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, certes,’ said the woman, ‘else why went I +forth this afternoon, as wearied as I was with yesterday?’</p> +<p>‘Well, well,’ said Wild-wearer, ‘get to thy due +work or go play; I meddle not with meat! and for thee all jests are +as bitter earnest.’</p> +<p>‘And with thee, chief,’ she said, ‘it is no otherwise; +surely I am made on thy model.’</p> +<p>‘Thy tongue is longer, friend,’ said he; ‘now tarry +if thou wilt, and if the supper’s service craveth thee not.’</p> +<p>She turned away with one keen look at Face-of-god, and departed through +the door at the lower end of the hall.</p> +<p>By this time the hall was dusk, for there were no candles there, +and the hearth-fire was but smouldering. Wild-wearer sat silent +and musing now, and Face-of-god spake not, for he was deep in wild and +happy dreams. At last the lower door opened and the fair woman +came into the hall with a torch in either hand, after whom came the +huntress, now clad in a dark blue kirtle, and an old woman yet straight +and hale; and these twain bore in the victuals and the table-gear. +Then the three fell to dighting the board, and when it was all ready, +and Gold-mane and Wild-wearer were set down to it, and with them the +fair woman and the huntress, the old woman threw good store of fresh +brands on the hearth, so that the light shone into every corner; and +even therewith the outer door opened, and four more men entered, whereof +one was old, but big and stalwarth, the other three young: they were +all clad roughly in sheep-brown weed, but had helms upon their heads +and spears in their hands and great swords girt to their sides; and +they seemed doughty men and ready for battle. One of the young +men cast down by the door the carcass of a big-horned mountain sheep, +and then they all trooped off to the out-bower by the lower door, and +came back presently fairly clad and without their weapons. Wild-wearer +nodded to them kindly, and they sat at table paying no more heed to +Face-of-god than to cast him a nod for salutation.</p> +<p>Then said the old woman to them: ‘Well, lads, have ye been +doing or sleeping?’</p> +<p>‘Sleeping, mother,’ said one of the young men, ‘as +was but due after last night was, and to-morrow shall be.’</p> +<p>Said the huntress: ‘Hold thy peace, Wood-wise, and let thy +tongue help thy teeth to deal with thy meat; for this is not the talking +hour.’</p> +<p>‘Nay, Bow-may,’ said another of the swains, ‘since +here is a new man, now is the time to talk to him.’</p> +<p>Said the huntress: ‘’Tis thine hands that talk best, +Wood-wont; it is not they that shall bring thee to shame.’</p> +<p>Spake the third: ‘What have we to do with shame here, far away +from dooms and doomers, and elders, and wardens, and guarded castles? +If the new man listeth to speak, let him speak; or to fight, then let +him; it shall ever be man to man.’</p> +<p>Then spake the old woman: ‘Son Wood-wicked, hold thy peace, +and forget the steel that ever eggeth thee on to draw.’</p> +<p>Therewith she set the last matters on the board, while the three +swains sat and eyed Gold-mane somewhat fiercely, now that words had +stirred them, and he had sat there saying nothing, as one who was better +than they, and contemned them; but now spake Wild-wearer:</p> +<p>‘Whoso hungreth let him eat! Whoso would slumber, let +him to bed. But he who would bicker, it must needs be with me. +Here is a man of the Dale, who hath sought the wood in peace, and hath +found us. His hand is ready and his heart is guileless: if ye +fear him, run away to the wood, and come back when he is gone; but none +shall mock him while I sit by: now, lads, be merry and blithe with the +guest.’</p> +<p>Then the young men greeted Gold-mane, and the old man said: ‘Art +thou of Burgstead? then wilt thou be of the House of the Face, and thy +name will be Face-of-god; for that man is called the fairest of the +Dale, and there shall be none fairer than thou.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god laughed and said: ‘There be but few mirrors in +Burgdale, and I have no mind to journey west to the cities to see what +manner of man I be: that were ill husbandry. But now I have heard +the names of the three swains, tell me thy name, father!’</p> +<p>Spake the huntress: ‘This is my father’s brother, and +his name is Wood-father; or ye shall call him so: and I am called Bow-may +because I shoot well in the bow: and this old carline is my eme’s +wife, and now belike my mother, if I need one. But thou, fair-faced +Dalesman, little dost thou need a mirror in the Dale so long as women +abide there; for their faces shall be instead of mirrors to tell thee +whether thou be fair and lovely.’</p> +<p>Thereat they all laughed and fell to their victual, which was abundant, +of wood-venison and mountain-fowl, but of bread was no great plenty; +wine lacked not, and that of the best; and Gold-mane noted that the +cups and the apparel of the horns and mazers were not of gold nor gilded +copper, but of silver; and he marvelled thereat, for in the Dale silver +was rare.</p> +<p>So they ate and drank, and Gold-mane looked ever on the Friend, and +spake much with her, and he deemed her friendly indeed, and she seemed +most pleased when he spoke best, and led him on to do so. Wild-wearer +was but of few words, and those somewhat harsh; yet was he as a man +striving to be courteous and blithe; but of the others Bow-may was the +greatest speaker.</p> +<p>Wild-wearer called healths to the Sun, and the Moon, and the Hosts +of Heaven; to the Gods of the Earth; to the Woodwights; and to the Guest. +Other healths also he called, the meaning of which was dark to Gold-mane; +to wit, the Jaws of the Wolf; the Silver Arm; the Red Hand; the Golden +Bushel; and the Ragged Sword. But when he asked the Friend concerning +these names what they might signify, she shook her head and answered +not.</p> +<p>At last Wild-wearer cried out: ‘Now, lads, the night weareth +and the guest is weary: therefore whoso of you hath in him any minstrelsy, +now let him make it, for later on it shall be over-late.’</p> +<p>Then arose Wood-wont and went to his shut-bed and groped therein, +and took from out of it a fiddle in its case; and he opened the case +and drew from it a very goodly fiddle, and he stood on the floor amidst +of the hall and Bow-may his cousin with him; and he laid his bow on +the fiddle and woke up song in it, and when it was well awake she fell +a-singing, and he to answering her song, and at the last all they of +the house sang together; and this is the meaning of the words which +they sang:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>She singeth.</i></p> +<p>Now is the rain upon the day,<br /> And every water’s +wide;<br />Why busk ye then to wear the way,<br /> And +whither will ye ride?</p> +<p><i>He singeth.</i></p> +<p>Our kine are on the eyot still,<br /> The eddies +lap them round;<br />All dykes the wind-worn waters fill,<br /> And +waneth grass and ground.</p> +<p><i>She singeth.</i></p> +<p>O ride ye to the river’s brim<br /> In war-weed +fair to see?<br />Or winter waters will ye swim<br /> In +hauberks to the knee?</p> +<p><i>He singeth.</i></p> +<p>Wild is the day, and dim with rain,<br /> Our sheep +are warded ill;<br />The wood-wolves gather for the plain,<br /> Their +ravening maws to fill.</p> +<p><i>She singeth.</i></p> +<p>Nay, what is this, and what have ye,<br /> A hunter’s +band, to bear<br />The Banner of our Battle-glee<br /> The +skulking wolves to scare?</p> +<p><i>He singeth.</i></p> +<p>O women, when we wend our ways<br /> To deal with +death and dread,<br />The Banner of our Fathers’ Days<br /> Must +flap the wind o’erhead.</p> +<p><i>She singeth.</i></p> +<p>Ah, for the maidens that ye leave!<br /> Who now +shall save the hay?<br />What grooms shall kiss our lips at eve,<br /> When +June hath mastered May?</p> +<p><i>He singeth.</i></p> +<p>The wheat is won, the seed is sown,<br /> Here toileth +many a maid,<br />And ere the hay knee-deep hath grown<br /> Your +grooms the grass shall wade.</p> +<p><i>They sing all together.</i></p> +<p>Then fair befall the mountain-side<br /> Whereon +the play shall be!<br />And fair befall the summer-tide<br /> That +whoso lives shall see.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Face-of-god thought the song goodly, but to the others it was well +known. Then said Wood-father:</p> +<p>‘O foster-son, thy foster-brother hath sung well for a wood +abider; but we are deeming that his singing shall be but as a starling +to a throstle matched against thy new-come guest. Therefore, Dalesman, +sing us a song of the Dale, and if ye will, let it be of gardens and +pleasant houses of stone, and fair damsels therein, and swains with +them who toil not over-much for a scant livelihood, as do they of the +waste, whose heads may not be seen in the Holy Places.’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘Father, it is ill to set the words of a lonely +man afar from his kin against the song that cometh from the heart of +a noble house; yet may I not gainsay thee, but will sing to thee what +I may call to mind, and it is called the Song of the Ford.’</p> +<p>Therewith he sang in a sweet and clear voice: and this is the meaning +of his words:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>In hay-tide, through the day new-born,<br /> Across +the meads we come;<br />Our hauberks brush the blossomed corn<br /> A +furlong short of home.</p> +<p>Ere yet the gables we behold<br /> Forth flasheth +the red sun,<br />And smites our fallow helms and cold<br /> Though +all the fight be done.</p> +<p>In this last mend of mowing-grass<br /> Sweet doth +the clover smell,<br />Crushed neath our feet red with the pass<br /> Where +hell was blent with hell.</p> +<p>And now the willowy stream is nigh,<br /> Down wend +we to the ford;<br />No shafts across its fishes fly,<br /> Nor +flasheth there a sword.</p> +<p>But lo! what gleameth on the bank<br /> Across the +water wan,<br />As when our blood the mouse-ear drank<br /> And +red the river ran?</p> +<p>Nay, hasten to the ripple clear,<br /> Look at the +grass beyond!<br />Lo ye the dainty band and dear<br /> Of +maidens fair and fond!</p> +<p>Lo how they needs must take the stream!<br /> The +water hides their feet;<br />On fair kind arms the gold doth gleam,<br /> And +midst the ford we meet.</p> +<p>Up through the garden two and two,<br /> And on +the flowers we drip;<br />Their wet feet kiss the morning dew<br /> As +lip lies close to lip.</p> +<p>Here now we sing; here now we stay:<br /> By these +grey walls we tell<br />The love that lived from out the fray,<br /> The +love that fought and fell.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>When he was done they all said that he had sung well, and that the +song was sweet. Yet did Wild-wearer smile somewhat; and Bow-may +said outright: ‘Soft is the song, and hath been made by lads and +minstrels rather than by warriors.’</p> +<p>‘Nay, kinswoman,’ said Wood-father, ‘thou art hard +to please; the guest is kind, and hath given us that I asked for, and +I give him all thanks therefor.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god smiled, but he heeded little what they said, for as he +sang he had noted that the Friend looked kindly on him; and he thought +he saw that once or twice she put out her hand as if to touch him, but +drew it back again each time. She spake after a little and said:</p> +<p>‘Here now hath been a stream of song running betwixt the Mountain +and the Dale even as doth a river; and this is good to come between +our dreams of what hath been and what shall be.’ Then she +turned to Gold-mane, and said to him scarce loud enough for all to hear:</p> +<p>‘Herewith I bid thee good-night, O Dalesman; and this other +word I have to thee: heed not what befalleth in the night, but sleep +thy best, for nought shall be to thy scathe. And when thou wakest +in the morning, if we are yet here, it is well; but if we are not, then +abide us no long while, but break thy fast on the victual thou wilt +find upon the board, and so depart and go thy ways home. And yet +thou mayst look to it to see us again before thou diest.’</p> +<p>Therewith she held out her hand to him, and he took it and kissed +it; and she went to her chamber-aloft at the lower end of the hall. +And when she was gone, once more he had a deeming of her that she was +of the kindred of the Gods. At her departure him-seemed that the +hall grew dull and small and smoky, and the night seemed long to him +and doubtful the coming of the day.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER VII. FACE-OF-GOD TALKETH WITH THE FRIEND ON THE MOUNTAIN</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>So now went all men to bed; and Face-to-god’s shut-bed was +over against the outer door and toward the lower end of the hall, and +on the panel about it hung the weapons and shields of men. Fair +was that chamber and roomy, and the man was weary despite his eagerness, +so that he went to sleep as soon as his head touched the pillow; but +within a while (he deemed about two hours after midnight) he was awaked +by the clattering of the weapons against the panel, and the sound of +men’s hands taking them down; and when he was fully awake, he +heard withal men going up and down the house as if on errands: but he +called to mind what the Friend had said to him, and he did not so much +as turn himself toward the hall; for he said: ‘Belike these men +are outlaws and Wolves of the Holy Places, yet by seeming they are good +fellows and nought churlish, nor have I to do with taking up the feud +against them. I will abide the morning. Yet meseemeth that +she drew me hither: for what cause?’</p> +<p>Therewith he fell asleep again, and dreamed no more. But when +he awoke the sun was shining broad upon the hall-floor, and he sat up +and listened, but could hear no sound save the moaning of the wind in +the pine-boughs and the chatter of the starlings about the gables of +the house; and the place seemed so exceeding lonely to him that he was +in a manner feared by that loneliness.</p> +<p>Then he arose and clad himself, and went forth into the hall and +gazed about him, and at first he deemed indeed that there was no one +therein. But at last he looked and beheld the upper gable and +there underneath a most goodly hanging was the glorious shape of a woman +sitting on a bench covered over with a cloth of gold and silver; and +he looked and looked to see if the woman might stir, and if she were +alive, and she turned her head toward him, and lo it was the Friend; +and his heart rose to his mouth for wonder and fear and desire. +For now he doubted whether the other folk were aught save shows and +shadows, and she the Goddess who had fashioned them out of nothing for +his bewilderment, presently to return to nothing.</p> +<p>Yet whatever he might fear or doubt, he went up the hall towards +her till he was quite nigh to her, and there he stood silent, wondering +at her beauty and desiring her kindness.</p> +<p>Grey-eyed she was like her brother; but her hair the colour of red +wheat: her lips full and red, her chin round, her nose fine and straight. +Her hands and all her body fashioned exceeding sweetly and delicately; +yet not as if she were an image of which the like might be found if +the craftsman were but deft enough to make a perfect thing, but in such +a way that there was none like to her for those that had eyes to behold +her as she was; and none could ever be made like to her, even by such +a master-craftsman as could fashion a body without a blemish.</p> +<p>She was clad in a white smock, whose hems were broidered with gold +wire and precious gems of the Mountains, and over that a gown woven +of gold and silver: scarce hath the world such another. On her +head was a fillet of gold and gems, and there were wondrous gold rings +on her arms: her feet lay bare on the dark grey wolf-skin that was stretched +before her.</p> +<p>She smiled kindly upon his solemn and troubled face, and her voice +sounded strangely familiar to him coming from all that loveliness, as +she said: ‘Hail, Face-of-god! here am I left alone, although I +deemed last night that I should be gone with the others. Therefore +am I fain to show myself to thee in fairer array than yesternight; for +though we dwell in the wild-wood, from the solace of folk, yet are we +not of thralls’ blood. But come now, I bid thee break thy +fast and talk with me a little while; and then shalt thou depart in +peace.’</p> +<p>Spake Face-of-god, and his voice trembled as he spake: ‘What +art thou? Last night I deemed at whiles once and again that thou +wert of the Gods; and now that I behold thee thus, and it is broad daylight, +and of those others is no more to be seen than if they had never lived, +I cannot but deem that it is even so, and that thou comest from the +City that shall never perish. Now if thou be a goddess, I have +nought to pray thee, save to slay me speedily if thou hast a mind for +my death. But if thou art a woman - ’</p> +<p>She broke in: ‘Gold-mane, stay thy prayer and hold thy peace +for this time, lest thou repent when repentance availeth not. +And this I say because I am none of the Gods nor akin to them, save +far off through the generations, as art thou also, and all men of goodly +kindred. Now I bid thee eat thy meat, since ’tis ill talking +betwixt a full man and a fasting; and I have dight it myself with mine +own hands; for Bow-may and the Wood-mother went away with the rest three +hours before dawn. Come sit and eat as thou hast a hardy heart; +as forsooth thou shouldest do if I were a very goddess. Take heed, +friend, lest I take thee for some damsel of the lower Dale arrayed in +Earl’s garments.’</p> +<p>She laughed therewith, and leaned toward him and put forth her hand +to him, and he took it and caressed it; and the exceeding beauty of +her body and of the raiment which was as it were a part of her and her +loveliness, made her laughter and her friendly words strange to him, +as if one did not belong to the other; as in a dream it might be. +Nevertheless he did as she bade him, and sat at the board and ate, while +she leaned forward on the arm of her chair and spake to him in friendly +wise. And he wondered as she spake that she knew so much of him +and his: and he kept saying to himself: ‘She drew me hither; wherefore +did she so?’</p> +<p>But she said: ‘Gold-mane, how fareth thy father the Alderman? +is he as good a wright as ever?’</p> +<p>He told her: Yea, that ever was his hammer on the iron, the copper, +and the gold, and that no wright in the Dale was as deft as he.</p> +<p>Said she: ‘Would he not have had thee seek to the Cities, to +see the ways of the outer world?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said he.</p> +<p>She said: ‘Thou wert wise to naysay that offer; thou shalt +have enough to do in the Dale and round about it in twelve months’ +time.’</p> +<p>‘Art thou foresighted?’ said he.</p> +<p>‘Folk have called me so,’ she said, ‘but I wot +not. But thy brother Hall-face, how fareth he?’</p> +<p>‘Well;’ said he, ‘to my deeming he is the Sword +of our House, and the Warrior of the Dale, if the days were ready for +him.’</p> +<p>‘And Stone-face, that stark ancient,’ she said, ‘doth +he still love the Folk of the Dale, and hate all other folks?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ he said, ‘I know not that, but I know that +he loveth as, and above all me and my father.’</p> +<p>Again she spake: ‘How fareth the Bride, the fair maid to whom +thou art affianced?’</p> +<p>As she spake, it was to him as if his heart was stricken cold; but +he put a force upon himself, and neither reddened nor whitened, nor +changed countenance in any way; so he answered:</p> +<p>‘She was well the eve of yesterday.’ Then he remembered +what she was, and her beauty and valour, and he constrained himself +to say: ‘Each day she groweth fairer; there is no man’s +son and no daughter of woman that does not love her; yea, the very beasts +of field and fold love her.’</p> +<p>The Friend looked at him steadily and spake no word, but a red flush +mounted to her cheeks and brow and changed her face; and he marvelled +thereat; for still he misdoubted that she was a Goddess. But it +passed away in a moment, and she smiled and said:</p> +<p>‘Guest, thou seemest to wonder that I know concerning thee +and the Dale and thy kindred. But now shalt thou wot that I have +been in the Dale once and again, and my brother oftener still; and that +I have seen thee before yesterday.’</p> +<p>‘That is marvellous,’ quoth he, ‘for sure am I +that I have not seen thee.’</p> +<p>‘Yet thou hast seen me,’ she said; ‘yet not altogether +as I am now;’ and therewith she smiled on him friendly.</p> +<p>‘How is this?’ said he; ‘art thou a skin-changer?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, in a fashion,’ she said. ‘Hearken! +dost thou perchance remember a day of last summer when there was a market +holden in Burgstead; and there stood in the way over against the House +of the Face a tall old carle who was trucking deer-skins for diverse +gear; and with him was a queen, tall and dark-skinned, somewhat well-liking, +her hair bound up in a white coif so that none of it could be seen; +by the token that she had a large stone of mountain blue set in silver +stuck in the said coif?’</p> +<p>As she spoke she set her hand to her bosom and drew something from +it, and held forth her hand to Gold-mane, and lo amidst the palm the +great blue stone set in silver.</p> +<p>‘Wondrous as a dream is this,’ said Face-of-god, ‘for +these twain I remember well, and what followed.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘I will tell thee that. There came a man of +the Shepherd-Folk, drunk or foolish, or both, who began to chaffer with +the big carle; but ever on the queen were his eyes set, and presently +he put forth his hand to her to clip her, whereon the big carle hove +up his fist and smote him, so that he fell to earth noseling. +Then ran the folk together to hale off the stranger and help the shepherd, +and it was like that the stranger should be mishandled. Then there +thrust through the press a young man with yellow hair and grey eyes, +who cried out, “Fellows, let be! The stranger had the right +of it; this is no matter to make a quarrel or a court case of. +Let the market go on! This man and maid are true folk.” +So when the folk heard the young man and his bidding, they forebore +and let the carle and the queen be, and the shepherd went his ways little +hurt. Now then, who was this young man?’</p> +<p>Quoth Gold-mane: ‘It was even I, and meseemeth it was no great +deed to do.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and the big carle was my brother, +and the tall queen, it was myself.’</p> +<p>‘How then,’ said he, ‘for she was as dark-skinned +as a dwarf, and thou so bright and fair?’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Well, if the woods are good for nothing else, yet +are they good for the growing of herbs, and I know the craft of simpling; +and with one of these herbs had I stained my skin and my brother’s +also. And it showed the darker beneath the white coif.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said he, ‘but why must ye needs fare in +feigned shapes? Ye would have been welcome guests in the Dale +howsoever ye had come.’</p> +<p>‘I may not tell thee hereof as now,’ said she.</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘Yet thou mayst belike tell me wherefore was +that thy brother desired to slay me yesterday, if he knew me, who I +was.’</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane,’ she said, ‘thou art not slain, so +little story need be made of that: for the rest, belike he knew thee +not at that moment. So it falls with us, that we look to see foes +rather than friends in the wild-woods. Many uncouth things are +therein. Moreover, I must tell thee of my brother that whiles +he is as the stalled bull late let loose, and nothing is good to him +save battle and onset; and then is he blind and knows not friend from +foe.’ Said Face-of-god: ‘Thou hast asked of me and +mine; wilt thou not tell me of thee and thine?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘not as now; thou must betake +thee to the way. Whither wert thou wending when thou happenedst +upon us?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘I know not; I was seeking something, but I knew not +what - meseemeth that now I have found it.’</p> +<p>‘Art thou for the great mountains seeking gems?’ she +said. ‘Yet go not thither to-day: for who knoweth what thou +shalt meet there that shall be thy foe?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Nay, nay; I have nought to do but to abide here as +long as I may, looking upon thee and hearkening to thy voice.’</p> +<p>Her eyes were upon his, but yet she did not seem to see him, and +for a while she answered not; and still he wondered that mere words +should come from so fair a thing; for whether she moved foot, or hand, +or knee, or turned this way or that, each time she stirred it was a +caress to his very heart.</p> +<p>He spake again: ‘May I not abide here a while? What scathe +may be in that?’</p> +<p>‘It is not so,’ she said; ‘thou must depart, and +that straightway: lo, there lieth thy spear which the Wood-mother hath +brought in from the waste. Take thy gear to thee and wend thy +ways. Have patience! I will lead thee to the place where +we first met and there give thee farewell.’</p> +<p>Therewith she arose and he also perforce, and when they came to the +doorway she stepped across the threshold and then turned back and gave +him her hand and so led him forth, the sun flashing back from her golden +raiment. Together they went over the short grey grass of that +hillside till they came to the place where he had arisen from that wrestle +with her brother. There she stayed him and said:</p> +<p>‘This is the place; here must we part.’</p> +<p>But his heart failed him and he faltered in his speech as he said:</p> +<p>‘When shall I see thee again? Wilt thou slay me if I +seek to thee hither once more?’</p> +<p>‘Hearken,’ she said, ‘autumn is now a-dying into +winter: let winter and its snows go past: nor seek to me hither; for +me thou should’st not find, but thy death thou mightest well fall +in with; and I would not that thou shouldest die. When winter +is gone, and spring is on the land, if thou hast not forgotten us thou +shalt meet us again. Yet shalt thou go further than this Woodland +Hall. In Shadowy Vale shalt thou seek to me then, and there will +I talk with thee.’</p> +<p>‘And where,’ said he, ‘is Shadowy Vale? for thereof +have I never heard tell.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘The token when it cometh to thee shall show thee +thereof and the way thither. Art thou a babbler, Gold-mane?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘I have won no prize for babbling hitherto.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘If thou listest to babble concerning what hath befallen +thee on the Mountain, so do, and repent it once only, that is, thy life +long.’</p> +<p>‘Why should I say any word thereof?’ said he. ‘Dost +thou not know the sweetness of such a tale untold?’</p> +<p>He spake as one who is somewhat wrathful, and she answered humbly +and kindly:</p> +<p>‘Well is that. Bide thou the token that shall lead thee +to Shadowy Vale. Farewell now.’</p> +<p>She drew her hand from his, and turned and went her ways swiftly +to the house: he could not choose but gaze on her as she went glittering-bright +and fair in that grey place of the mountains, till the dark doorway +swallowed up her beauty. Then he turned away and took the path +through the pine-woods, muttering to himself as he went:</p> +<p>‘What thing have I done now that hitherto I had not done? +What manner of man am I to-day other than the man I was yesterday?’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII. FACE-OF-GOD COMETH HOME AGAIN TO BURGSTEAD</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Face-of-God went back through the wood by the way he had come, paying +little heed to the things about him. For whatever he thought of +strayed not one whit from the image of the Fair Woman of the Mountain-side.</p> +<p>He went through the wood swiftlier than yesterday, and made no stay +for noon or aught else, nor did he linger on the road when he was come +into the Dale, either to speak to any or to note what they did. +So he came to the House of the Face about dusk, and found no man within +the hall either carle or queen. So he cried out on the folk, and +there came in a damsel of the house, whom he greeted kindly and she +him again. He bade her bring the washing-water, and she did so +and washed his feet and his hands. She was a fair maid enough, +as were most in the Dale, but he heeded her little; and when she was +done he kissed not her cheek for her pains, as his wont was, but let +her go her ways unthanked. But he went to his shut-bed and opened +his chest, and drew fair raiment from it, and did off his wood-gear, +and did on him a goodly scarlet kirtle fairly broidered, and a collar +with gems of price therein, and other braveries. And when he was +so attired he came out into the hall, and there was old Stone-face standing +by the hearth, which was blazing brightly with fresh brands, so that +things were clear to see.</p> +<p>Stone-face noted Gold-mane’s gay raiment, for he was not wont +to wear such attire, save on the feasts and high days when he behoved +to. So the old man smiled and said:</p> +<p>‘Welcome back from the Wood! But what is it? Hast +thou been wedded there, or who hath made thee Earl and King?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Foster-father, sooth it is that I have been +to the wood, but there have I seen nought of manfolk worse than myself. +Now as to my raiment, needs must I keep it from the moth. And +I am weary withal, and this kirtle is light and easy to me. Moreover, +I look to see the Bride here again, and I would pleasure her with the +sight of gay raiment upon me.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Stone-face, ‘hast thou not seen some +woman in the wood arrayed like the image of a God? and hath she not +bidden thee thus to worship her to-night? For I know that such +wights be in the wood, and that such is their wont.’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘I worship nought save the Gods and the Fathers. +Nor saw I in the wood any such as thou sayest.’</p> +<p>Therewith Stone-face shook his head; but after a while he said:</p> +<p>‘Art thou for the wood to-morrow?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Gold-mane angrily, knitting his brows.</p> +<p>‘The morrow of to-morrow,’ said Stone-face, ‘is +the day when we look to see the Westland merchants: after all, wilt +thou not go hence with them when they wend their ways back before the +first snows fall?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said he, ‘I have no mind to it, fosterer; +cease egging me on hereto.’</p> +<p>Then Stone-face shook his head again, and looked on him long, and +muttered: ‘To the wood wilt thou go to-morrow or next day; or +some day when doomed is thine undoing.’</p> +<p>Therewith entered the service and torches, and presently after came +the Alderman with Hall-face; and Iron-face greeted his son and said +to him: ‘Thou hast not hit the time to do on thy gay raiment, +for the Bride will not be here to-night; she bideth still at the Feast +at the Apple-tree House: or wilt thou be there, son?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘I am over-weary. +And as for my raiment, it is well; it is for thine honour and the honour +of the name.’</p> +<p>So to table they went, and Iron-face asked his son of his ways again, +and whether he was quite fixed in his mind not to go down to the Plain +and the Cities: ‘For,’ said he, ‘the morrow of to-morrow +shall the merchants be here, and this were great news for them if the +son of the Alderman should be their faring-fellow back.’</p> +<p>But Face-of-god answered without any haste or heat: ‘Nay, father, +it may not be: fear not, thou shalt see that I have a good will to work +and live in the Dale.’</p> +<p>And in good sooth, though he was a young man and loved mirth and +the ways of his own will, he was a stalwarth workman, and few could +mow a match with him in the hay-month and win it; or fell trees as certainly +and swiftly, or drive as straight and clean a furrow through the stiff +land of the lower Dale; and in other matters also was he deft and sturdy.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER IX. THOSE BRETHREN FARE TO THE YEWWOOD WITH THE BRIDE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Next morning Face-of-god dight himself for work, and took his axe; +for his brother Hall-face had bidden him go down with him to the Yew-wood +and cut timber there, since he of all men knew where to go straight +to the sticks that would quarter best for bow-staves; whereas the Alderman +had the right of hewing in that wood. So they went forth, those +brethren, from the House of the Face, but when they were gotten to the +gate, who should be there but the Bride awaiting them, and she with +an ass duly saddled for bearing the yew-sticks. Because Hall-face +had told her that he and belike Gold-mane were going to hew in the wood, +and she thought it good to be of the company, as oft had befallen erst. +When they met she greeted Face-of-god and kissed him as her wont was; +and he looked upon her and saw how fair she was, and how kind and friendly +were her eyes that beheld him, and how her whole face was eager for +him as their lips parted. Then his heart failed him, when he knew +that he no longer desired her as she did him, and he said within himself:</p> +<p>‘Would that she had been of our nighest kindred! Would +that I had had a sister and that this were she!’</p> +<p>So the three went along the highway down the Dale, and Hall-face +and the Bride talked merrily together and laughed, for she was happy, +since she knew that Gold-mane had been to the wood and was back safe +and much as he had been before. So indeed it seemed of him; for +though at first he was moody and of few words, yet presently he cursed +himself for a mar-sport, and so fell into the talk, and enforced himself +to be merry; and soon he was so indeed; for he thought: ‘She drew +me thither: she hath a deed for me to do. I shall do the deed +and have my reward. Soon will the spring-tide be here, and I shall +be a young man yet when it comes.’</p> +<p>So came they to the place where he had met the three maidens yesterday; +there they also turned from the highway; and as they went down the bent, +Gold-mane could not but turn his eyes on the beauty of the Bride and +the lovely ways of her body: but presently he remembered all that had +betid, and turned away again as one who is noting what it behoves him +not to note. And he said to himself: ‘Where art thou, Gold-mane? +Whose art thou? Yea, even if that had been but a dream that I +have dreamed, yet would that this fair woman were my sister!’</p> +<p>So came they to the Yew-wood, and the brethren fell to work, and +the Bride with them, for she was deft with the axe and strong withal. +But at midday they rested on the green slope without the Yew-wood; and +they ate bread and flesh and onions and apples, and drank red wine of +the Dale. And while they were resting after their meat, the Bride +sang to them, and her song was a lay of time past; and here ye have +somewhat of it:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>’Tis over the hill and over the dale<br /> Men +ride from the city fast and far,<br />If they may have a soothfast tale,<br /> True +tidings of the host of war.</p> +<p>And first they hap on men-at-arms,<br /> All clad +in steel from head to foot:<br />Now tell true tale of the new-come +harms,<br /> And the gathered hosts of the mountain-root.</p> +<p>Fair sirs, from murder-carles we flee,<br /> Whose +fashion is as the mountain-trolls’;<br />No man can tell how many +they be,<br /> And the voice of their host as the thunder +rolls.</p> +<p>They were weary men at the ending of day,<br /> But +they spurred nor stayed for longer word.<br />Now ye, O merchants, whither +away?<br /> What do ye there with the helm and the +sword?</p> +<p>O we must fight for life and gear,<br /> For our +beasts are spent and our wains are stayed,<br />And the host of the +Mountain-men draws near,<br /> That maketh all the +world afraid.</p> +<p>They left the chapmen on the hill,<br /> And through +the eve and through the night<br />They rode to have true tidings still,<br /> And +were there on the way when the dawn was bright.</p> +<p>O damsels fair, what do ye then<br /> To loiter +thus upon the way,<br />And have no fear of the Mountain-men,<br /> The +host of the carles that strip and slay?</p> +<p>O riders weary with the road,<br /> Come eat and +drink on the grass hereby!<br />And lay you down in a fair abode<br /> Till +the midday sun is broad and high;</p> +<p>Then unto you shall we come aback,<br /> And lead +you forth to the Mountain-men,<br />To note their plenty and their lack,<br /> And +have true tidings there and then.</p> +<p>’Tis over the hill and over the dale<br /> They +ride from the mountain fast and far;<br />And now have they learned +a soothfast tale,<br /> True tidings of the host of +war.</p> +<p>It was summer-tide and the Month of Hay,<br /> And +men and maids must fare afield;<br />But we saw the place were the bow-staves +lay,<br /> And the hall was hung with spear and shield.</p> +<p>When the moon was high we drank in the hall,<br /> And +they drank to the guests and were kind and blithe,<br />And they said: +Come back when the chestnuts fall,<br /> And the wine-carts +wend across the hythe.</p> +<p>Come oft and o’er again, they said;<br /> Wander +your ways; but we abide<br />For all the world in the little stead;<br /> For +wise are we, though the world be wide.</p> +<p>Yea, come in arms if ye will, they said;<br /> And +despite your host shall we abide<br />For life or death in the little +stead;<br /> For wise are we, though the world be wide.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>So she made an end and looked at the fairness of the dale spreading +wide before her, and a robin came nigh from out of a thorn-bush and +sung his song also, the sweet herald of coming winter; and the lapwings +wheeled about, black and white, above the meadow by the river, sending +forth their wheedling pipe as they hung above the soft turf.</p> +<p>She felt the brothers near her, and knew their friendliness from +of old, and she was happy; nor had she looked closer at Gold-mane would +she have noted any change in him belike; for the meat and the good wine, +and the fair sunny time, and the Bride’s sweet voice, and the +ancient song softened his heart while it fed the desire therein.</p> +<p>So in a while they arose from their rest and did what was left them +of their work, and so went back to Burgstead through the fair afternoon; +by seeming all three in all content. But yet Gold-mane, as from +time to time he looked upon the Bride, kept saying to himself: ‘O +if she had been but my sister! sweet had the kinship been!’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER X. NEW TIDINGS IN THE DALE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>It was three days thereafter that Gold-mane, leading an ass, went +along the highway to fetch home certain fleeces which were needed for +the house from a stead a little west of Wildlake; but he had gone scant +half a mile ere he fell in with a throng of folk going to Burgstead. +They were of the Shepherds; they had weapons with them, and some were +clad in coats of fence. They went along making a great noise, +for they were all talking each to each at the same time, and seemed +very hot and eager about some matter. When they saw Gold-mane +anigh, they stopped, and the throng opened as if to let him into their +midmost; so he mingled with them, and they stood in a ring about him +and an old man more ill-favoured than it was the wont of the Dalesmen +to be.</p> +<p>For he was long, stooping, gaunt and spindle-shanked, his hands big +and crippled with gout: his cheeks were red after an old man’s +fashion, covered with a crimson network like a pippin; his lips thin +and not well hiding his few teeth; his nose long like a snipe’s +neb. In short, a shame and a laughing-stock to the Folk, and a +man whom the kindreds had in small esteem, and that for good reasons.</p> +<p>Face-of-god knew him at once for a notable close-fist and starve-all +fool of the Shepherds; and his name was now become Penny-thumb the Lean, +whatever it might once have been.</p> +<p>So Face-of-god greeted all men, and they him again; and he said: +‘What aileth you, neighbours? Your weapons, are bare, but +I see not that they be bloody. What is it, goodman Penny-thumb?’</p> +<p>Penny-thumb did but groan for all answer; but a stout carle who stood +by with a broad grin on his face answered and said:</p> +<p>‘Face-of-god, evil tidings be abroad; the strong-thieves of +the wood are astir; and some deem that the wood-wights be helping them.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, and what is the deed they have done?’ said Gold-mane.</p> +<p>Said the carle: ‘Thou knowest Penny-thumb’s abode?’</p> +<p>‘Yea surely,’ said Face-of-god; ‘fair are the water-meadows +about it; great gain of cheese can be gotten thence.’</p> +<p>‘Hast thou been within the house?’ said the carle.</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Gold-mane.</p> +<p>Then spake Penny-thumb: ‘Within is scant gear: we gather for +others to scatter; we make meat for others’ mouths.’</p> +<p>The carle laughed: ‘Sooth is that,’ said he, ‘that +there is little gear therein now; for the strong-thieves have voided +both hall and bower and byre.’</p> +<p>‘And when was that?’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘The night before last night,’ said the carle, ‘the +door was smitten on, and when none answered it was broken down.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ quoth Penny-thumb, ‘a host entered, and +they in arms.’</p> +<p>‘No host was within,’ said the carle, ‘nought but +Penny-thumb and his sister and his sister’s son, and three carles +that work for him; and one of them, Rusty to wit, was the worst man +of the hill-country. These then the host whereof the goodman telleth +bound, but without doing them any scathe; and they ransacked the house, +and took away much gear; yet left some.’</p> +<p>‘Thou liest,’ said Penny-thumb; ‘they took little +and left none.’</p> +<p>Thereat all men laughed, for this seemed to them good game, and another +man said: ‘Well, neighbour Penny-thumb, if it was so little, thou +hast done unneighbourly in giving us such a heap of trouble about it.’</p> +<p>And they laughed again, but the first carle said: ‘True it +is, goodman, that thou wert exceeding eager to raise the hue and cry +after that little when we happed upon thee and thy housemates bound +in your chairs yesterday morning. Well, Alderman’s son, +short is the tale to tell: we could not fail to follow the gear, and +the slot led us into the wood, and ill is the going there for us shepherds, +who are used to the bare downs, save Rusty, who was a good woodsman +and lifted the slot for us; so he outwent us all, and ran out of sight +of us, so presently we came upon him dead-slain, with the manslayer’s +spear in his breast. What then could we do but turn back again, +for now was the wood blind now Rusty was dead, and we knew not whither +to follow the fray; and the man himself was but little loss: so back +we turned, and told goodman Penny-thumb of all this, for we had left +him alone in his hall lamenting his gear; so we bided to-day’s +morn, and have come out now, with our neighbour and the spear, and the +dead corpse of Rusty. Stand aside, neighbours, and let the Alderman’s +son see it.’</p> +<p>They did so, and there was the corpse of a thin-faced tall wiry man, +somewhat foxy of aspect, lying on a hand-bier covered with black cloth.</p> +<p>‘Yea, Face-of-god,’ said the carle, ‘he is not +good to see now he is dead, yet alive was he worser: but, look you, +though the man was no good man, yet was he of our people, and the feud +is with us; so we would see the Alderman, and do him to wit of the tidings, +that he may call the neighbours together to seek a blood-wite for Rusty +and atonement for the ransacking. Or what sayest thou?’</p> +<p>‘Have ye the spear that ye found in Rusty?’ quoth Gold-mane.</p> +<p>‘Yea verily,’ said the carle. ‘Hither with +it, neighbours; give it to the Alderman’s son.’</p> +<p>So the spear came into his hand, and he looked at it and said:</p> +<p>‘This is no spear of the smiths’ work of the Dale, as +my father will tell you. We take but little keep of the forging +of spearheads here, so that they be well-tempered and made so as to +ride well on the shaft; but this head, daintily is it wrought, the blood-trench +as clean and trim as though it were an Earl’s sword. See +you withal this inlaying of runes on the steel? It is done with +no tin or copper, but with very silver; and these bands about the shaft +be of silver also. It is a fair weapon, and the owner hath a loss +of it greater than his gain in the slaying of Rusty; and he will have +left it in the wound so that he might be known hereafter, and that he +might be said not to have murdered Rusty but to have slain him. +Or how think ye?’</p> +<p>They all said that this seemed like to be; but that if the man who +had slain Rusty were one of the ransackers they might have a blood-wite +of him, if they could find him. Gold-mane said that so it was, +and therewithal he gave the shepherds good-speed and went on his way.</p> +<p>But they came to Burgstead and found the Alderman, and in due time +was a Court held, and a finding uttered, and outlawry given forth for +the manslaying and the ransacking against certain men unknown. +As for the spear, it was laid up in the House of the Face.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god pondered these matters in his mind, for such ransackings +there had been none of in late years; and he said to himself that his +friends of the Mountain must have other folk, of which the Dalesmen +knew nought, whose gear they could lift, or how could they live in that +place. And he marvelled that they should risk drawing the Dalesmen’s +wrath upon them; whereas they of the Dale were strong men not easily +daunted, albeit peaceable enough if not stirred to wrath. For +in good sooth he had no doubt concerning that spear, whose it was and +whence it came: for that very weapon had been leaning against the panel +of his shut-bed the night he slept on the Mountain, and all the other +spears that he saw there were more or less of the same fashion, and +adorned with silver.</p> +<p>Albeit all that he knew, and all that he thought of, he kept in his +own heart and said nothing of it.</p> +<p>So wore the autumn into early winter; and the Westland merchants +came in due time, and departed without Face-of-god, though his father +made him that offer one last time. He went to and fro about his +work in the Dale, and seemed to most men’s eyes nought changed +from what he had been. But the Bride noted that he saw her less +often than his wont was, and abode with her a lesser space when he met +her; and she could not think what this might mean; nor had she heart +to ask him thereof, though she was sorry and grieved, but rather withdrew +her company from him somewhat; and when she perceived that he noted +it not, and made no question of it, then was she the sorrier.</p> +<p>But the first winter-snow came on with a great storm of wind from +the north-east, so that no man stirred abroad who was not compelled +thereto, and those who went abroad risked life and limb thereby. +Next morning all was calm again, and the snow was deep, but it did not +endure long, for the wind shifted to the southwest and the thaw came, +and three days after, when folk could fare easily again up and down +the Dale, came tidings to Burgstead and the Alderman from the Lower +Dale, how a house called Greentofts had been ransacked there, and none +knew by whom. Now the goodman of Greentofts was little loved of +the neighbours: he was grasping and overbearing, and had often cowed +others out of their due: he was very cross-grained, both at home and +abroad: his wife had fled from his hand, neither did his sons find it +good to abide with him: therewithal he was wealthy of goods, a strong +man and a deft man-at-arms. When his sons and his wife departed +from him, and none other of the Dalesmen cared to abide with him, he +went down into the Plain, and got thence men to be with him for hire, +men who were not well seen to in their own land. These to the +number of twelve abode with him, and did his bidding whenso it pleased +them. Two more had he had who had been slain by good men of the +Dale for their masterful ways; and no blood-wite had been paid for them, +because of their ill-doings, though they had not been made outlaws. +This man of Greentofts was called Harts-bane after his father, who was +a great hunter.</p> +<p>Now the full tidings of the ransacking were these: The storm began +two hours before sunset, and an hour thereafter, when it was quite dark, +for without none could see because the wind was at its height and the +drift of the snow was hard and full, the hall-door flew open; and at +first men thought it had been the wind, until they saw in the dimness +(for all lights but the fire on the hearth had been quenched) certain +things tumbling in which at first they deemed were wolves; but when +they took swords and staves against them, lo they were met by swords +and axes, and they saw that the seeming wolves were men with wolf-skins +drawn over them. So the new-comers cowed them that they threw +down their weapons, and were bound in their places; but when they were +bound, and had had time to note who the ransackers were, they saw that +there were but six of them all told, who had cowed and bound Harts-bane +and his twelve masterful men; and this they deemed a great shaming to +them, as might well be.</p> +<p>So then the stead was ransacked, and those wolves took away what +they would, and went their ways through the fierce storm, and none could +tell whether they had lived or died in it; but at least neither the +men nor their prey were seen again; nor did they leave any slot, for +next morning the snow lay deep over everything.</p> +<p>No doubt had Gold-mane but that these ransackers were his friends +of the Mountain; but he held his peace, abiding till the winter should +be over.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XI. MEN MAKE OATH AT BURGSTEAD ON THE HOLY BOAR</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>A week after the ransacking at Greentofts the snow and the winter +came on in earnest, and all the Dale lay in snow, and men went on skids +when they fared up and down the Dale or on the Mountain.</p> +<p>All was now tidingless till Yule over, and in Burgstead was there +feasting and joyance enough; and especially at the House of the Face +was high-tide holden, and the Alderman and his sons and Stone-face and +all the kindred and all their men sat in glorious attire within the +hall; and many others were there of the best of the kindreds of Burgstead +who had been bidden.</p> +<p>Face-of-god sat between his father and Stone-face; and he looked +up and down the tables and the hall and saw not the Bride, and his heart +misgave him because she was not there, and he wondered what had befallen +and if she were sick of sorrow.</p> +<p>But Iron-face beheld him how he gazed about, and he laughed; for +he was exceeding merry that night and fared as a young man. Then +he said to his son: ‘Whom seekest thou, son? is there someone +lacking?’</p> +<p>Face-of-god reddened as one who lies unused to it, and said:</p> +<p>‘Yea, kinsman, so it is that I was seeking the Bride my kinswoman.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Iron-face, ‘call her not kinswoman: +therein is ill-luck, lest it seem that thou art to wed one too nigh +thine own blood. Call her the Bride only: to thee and to me the +name is good. Well, son, desirest thou sorely to see her?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, yea, surely,’ said Face-of-god; but his eyes went +all about the hall still, as though his mind strayed from the place +and that home of his.</p> +<p>Said Iron-face: ‘Have patience, son, thou shalt see her anon, +and that in such guise as shall please thee.’</p> +<p>Therewithal came the maidens with the ewers of wine, and they filled +all horns and beakers, and then stood by the endlong tables on either +side laughing and talking with the carles and the older women; and the +hall was a fair sight to see, for the many candles burned bright and +the fire on the hearth flared up, and those maids were clad in fair +raiment, and there was none of them but was comely, and some were fair, +and some very fair: the walls also were hung with goodly pictured cloths, +and the image of the God of the Face looked down smiling terribly from +the gable-end above the high-seat.</p> +<p>Thus as they sat they heard the sound of a horn winded close outside +the hall door, and the door was smitten on. Then rose Iron-face +smiling merrily, and cried out:</p> +<p>‘Enter ye, whether ye be friends or foes: for if ye be foemen, +yet shall ye keep the holy peace of Yule, unless ye be the foes of all +kindreds and nations, and then shall we slay you.’</p> +<p>Thereat some who knew what was toward laughed; but Gold-mane, who +had been away from Burgstead some days past, marvelled and knit his +brows, and let his right hand fall on his sword-hilt. For this +folk, who were of merry ways, were wont to deal diversely with the Yule-tide +customs in the manner of shows; and he knew not that this was one of +them.</p> +<p>Now was the Outer door thrown open, and there entered seven men, +whereof two were all-armed in bright war-gear, and two bore slug-horns, +and two bore up somewhat on a dish covered over with a piece of rich +cloth, and the seventh stood before them all wrapped up in a dark fur +mantle.</p> +<p>Thus they stood a moment; and when he saw their number, back to Gold-mane’s +heart came the thought of those folk on the Mountain: for indeed he +was somewhat out of himself for doubt and longing, else would he have +deemed that all this was but a Yule-tide play.</p> +<p>Now the men with the slug-horns set them to their mouths and blew +a long blast; while the first of the new-comers set hand to the clasps +of the fur cloak and let it fall to the ground, and lo! a woman exceeding +beauteous, clad in glistering raiment of gold and fine web; her hair +wreathed with bay, and in her hand a naked sword with goodly-wrought +golden hilt and polished blue-gleaming blade.</p> +<p>Face-of-god started up in his sear, and stared like a man new-wakened +from a strange dream: because for one moment he deemed verily that it +was the Woman of the Mountain arrayed as he had last seen her, and he +cried aloud ‘The Friend, the Friend!’</p> +<p>His father brake out into loud laughter thereat, and clapped his +son on the shoulder and said: ‘Yea, yea, lad, thou mayst well +say the Friend; for this is thine old playmate whom thou hast been looking +round the hall for, arrayed this eve in such fashion as is meet for +her goodliness and her worthiness. Yea, this is the Friend indeed!’</p> +<p>Then waxed Face-of-god as red as blood for shame, and he sat him +down in his place again: for now he wotted what was toward, and saw +that this fair woman was the Bride.</p> +<p>But Stone-face from the other side looked keenly on him.</p> +<p>Then blew the horns again, and the Bride stepped daintily up the +hall, and the sweet odour of her raiment went from her about the fire-warmed +dwelling, and her beauty moved all hearts with love. So stood +she at the high-table; and those two who bore the burden set it down +thereon and drew off the covering, and lo! there was the Holy Boar of +Yule on which men were wont to make oath of deeds that they would do +in the coming year, according to the custom of their forefathers. +Then the Bride laid the goodly sword beside the dish, and then went +round the table and sat down betwixt Face-of-god and Stone-face, and +turned kindly to Gold-mane, and was glad; for now was his fair face +as its wont was to be. He in turn smiled upon her, for she was +fair and kind and his fellow for many a day.</p> +<p>Now the men-at-arms stood each side the Boar, and out from them on +each side stood the two hornsmen: then these blew up again, whereon +the Alderman stood up and cried:</p> +<p>‘Ye sons of the brave who have any deed that ye may be desirous +of doing, come up, come lay your hand on the sword, and the point of +the sword to the Holy Beast, and swear the oath that lieth on your hearts.’</p> +<p>Therewith he sat down, and there strode a man up the hall, strong-built +and sturdy, but short of stature; black-haired, red-bearded, and ruddy-faced: +and he stood on the daïs, and took up the sword and laid its point +on the Boar, and said:</p> +<p>‘I am Bristler, son of Brightling, a man of the Shepherds. +Here by the Holy Boar I swear to follow up the ransackers of Penny-thumb +and the slayers of Rusty. And I take this feud upon me, although +they be no good men, because I am of the kin and it falleth to me, since +others forbear; and when the Court was hallowed hereon I was away out +of the Dale and the Downs. So help me the Warrior, and the God +of the Earth.’</p> +<p>Then the Alderman nodded his head to him kindly, and reached him +out a cup of wine, and as he drank there went up a rumour of praise +from the hall; and men said that his oath was manly and that he was +like to keep it; for he was a good man-at-arms and a stout heart.</p> +<p>Then came up three men of the Shepherds and two of the Dale and swore +to help Bristler in his feud, and men thought it well sworn.</p> +<p>After that came a braggart, a man very gay of his raiment, and swore +with many words that if he lived the year through he would be a captain +over the men of the Plain, and would come back again with many gifts +for his friends in the Dale. This men deemed foolishly sworn, +for they knew the man; so they jeered at him and laughed as he went +back to his place ashamed.</p> +<p>Then swore three others oaths not hard to be kept, and men laughed +and were merry.</p> +<p>At last uprose the Alderman, and said: ‘Kinsmen, and good fellows, +good days and peaceable are in the Dale as now; and of such days little +is the story, and little it availeth to swear a deed of derring-do: +yet three things I swear by this Beast; and first to gainsay no man’s +asking if I may perform it; and next to set right above law and mercy +above custom; and lastly, if the days change and war cometh to us or +we go to meet it, I will be no backwarder in the onset than three fathoms +behind the foremost. So help me the Warrior, and the God of the +Face and the Holy Earth!’</p> +<p>Therewith he sat down, and all men shouted for joy of him, and said +that it was most like that he would keep his oath.</p> +<p>Last of all uprose Face-of-god and took up the sword and looked at +it; and so bright was the blade that he saw in it the image of the golden +braveries which the Bride bore, and even some broken image of her face. +Then he handled the hilt and laid the point on the Boar, and cried:</p> +<p>‘Hereby I swear to wed the fairest woman of the Earth before +the year is worn to an end; and that whether the Dalesmen gainsay me +or the men beyond the Dale. So help me the Warrior, and the God +of the Face and the Holy Earth!’</p> +<p>Therewith he sat down; and once more men shouted for the love of +him and of the Bride, and they said he had sworn well and like a chieftain.</p> +<p>But the Bride noted him that neither were his eyes nor his voice +like to their wont as he swore, for she knew him well; and thereat was +she ill at ease, for now whatever was new in him was to her a threat +of evil to come.</p> +<p>Stone-face also noted him, and he knew the young man better than +all others save the Bride, and he saw withal that she was ill-pleased, +and he said to himself: ‘I will speak to my fosterling to-morrow +if I may find him alone.’</p> +<p>So came the swearing to an end, and they fell to on their meat and +feasted on the Boar of Atonement after they had duly given the Gods +their due share, and the wine went about the hall and men were merry +till they drank the parting cup and fared to rest in the shut-beds, +and whereso else they might in the Hall and the House, for there were +many men there.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XII. STONE-FACE TELLETH CONCERNING THE WOOD-WIGHTS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Early on the morrow Gold-mane arose and clad himself and went out-a-doors +and over the trodden snow on to the bridge over the Weltering Water, +and there betook himself into one of the coins of safety built over +the up-stream piles; there he leaned against the wall and turned his +face to the Thorp, and fell to pondering on his case. And first +he thought about his oath, and how that he had sworn to wed the Mountain +Woman, although his kindred and her kindred should gainsay him, yea +and herself also. Great seemed that oath to him, yet at that moment +he wished he had made it greater, and made all the kindred, yea and +the Bride herself, sure of the meaning of the words of it: and he deemed +himself a dastard that he had not done so. Then he looked round +him and beheld the winter, and he fell into mere longing that the spring +were come and the token from the Mountain. Things seemed too hard +for him to deal with, and he between a mighty folk and two wayward women; +and he went nigh to wish that he had taken his father’s offer +and gone down to the Cities; and even had he met his bane: well were +that! And, as young folk will, he set to work making a picture +of his deeds there, had he been there. He showed himself the stricken +fight in the plain, and the press, and the struggle, and the breaking +of the serried band, and himself amidst the ring of foemen doing most +valiantly, and falling there at last, his shield o’er-heavy with +the weight of foemen’s spears for a man to uphold it. Then +the victory of his folk and the lamentation and praise over the slain +man of the Mountain Dales, and the burial of the valiant warrior, the +praising weeping folk meeting him at the City-gate, laid stark and cold +in his arms on the gold-hung garlanded bier.</p> +<p>There ended his dream, and he laughed aloud and said: ‘I am +a fool! All this were good and sweet if I should see it myself; +and forsooth that is how I am thinking of it, as if I still alive should +see myself dead and famous!’</p> +<p>Then he turned a little and looked at the houses of the Thorp lying +dark about the snowy ways under the starlit heavens of the winter morning: +dark they were indeed and grey, save where here and there the half-burned +Yule-fire reddened the windows of a hall, or where, as in one place, +the candle of some early waker shone white in a chamber window. +There was scarce a man astir, he deemed, and no sound reached him save +the crowing of the cocks muffled by their houses, and a faint sound +of beasts in the byres.</p> +<p>Thus he stood a while, his thoughts wandering now, till presently +he heard footsteps coming his way down the street and turned toward +them, and lo it was the old man Stone-face. He had seen Gold-mane +go out, and had risen and followed him that he might talk with him apart. +Gold-mane greeted him kindly, though, sooth to say, he was but half +content to see him; since he doubted, what was verily the case, that +his foster-father would give him many words, counselling him to refrain +from going to the wood, and this was loathsome to him; but he spake +and said:</p> +<p>‘Meseems, father, that the eastern sky is brightening toward +dawn.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ quoth Stone-face.</p> +<p>‘It will be light in an hour,’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘Even so,’ said Stone-face.</p> +<p>‘And a fair day for the morrow of Yule,’ said the swain.</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Stone-face, ‘and what wilt thou do +with the fair day? Wilt thou to the wood?’</p> +<p>‘Maybe, father,’ said Gold-mane; ‘Hall-face and +some of the swains are talking of elks up the fells which may be trapped +in the drifts, and if they go a-hunting them, I may go in their company.’</p> +<p>‘Ah, son,’ quoth Stone-face, ‘thou wilt look to +see other kind of beasts than elks. Things may ye fall in with +there who may not be impounded in the snow like to elks, but can go +light-foot on the top of the soft drift from one place to another.’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘Father, fear me not; I shall either refrain +me from the wood, or if I go, I shall go to hunt the wood-deer with +other hunters. But since thou hast come to me, tell me more about +the wood, for thy tales thereof are fair.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Stone-face, ‘fair tales of foul things, +as oft it befalleth in the world. Hearken now! if thou deemest +that what thou seekest shall come readier to thine hand because of the +winter and the snow, thou errest. For the wights that waylay the +bodies and souls of the mighty in the wild-wood heed such matters nothing; +yea and at Yule-tide are they most abroad, and most armed for the fray. +Even such an one have I seen time agone, when the snow was deep and +the wind was rough; and it was in the likeness of a woman clad in such +raiment as the Bride bore last night, and she trod the snow light-foot +in thin raiment where it would scarce bear the skids of a deft snow-runner. +Even so she stood before me; the icy wind blew her raiment round about +her, and drifted the hair from her garlanded head toward me, and she +as fair and fresh as in the midsummer days. Up the fell she fared, +sweetest of all things to look on, and beckoned on me to follow; on +me, the Warrior, the Stout-heart; and I followed, and between us grief +was born; but I it was that fostered that child and not she. Always +when she would be, was she merry and lovely; and even so is she now, +for she is of those that be long-lived. And I wot that thou hast +seen even such an one!’</p> +<p>‘Tell me more of thy tales, foster-father,’ said Gold-mane, +‘and fear not for me!’</p> +<p>‘Ah, son,’ he said, ‘mayst thou have no such tales +to tell to those that shall be young when thou art old. Yet hearken! +We sat in the hall together and there was no third; and methought that +the birds sang and the flowers bloomed, and sweet was their savour, +though it was midwinter. A rose-wreath was on her head; grapes +were on the board, and fair unwrinkled summer apples on the day that +we feasted together. When was the feast? sayst thou. Long +ago. What was the hall, thou sayest, wherein ye feasted? +I know not if it were on the earth or under it, or if we rode the clouds +that even. But on the morrow what was there but the stark wood +and the drift of the snow, and the iron wind howling through the branches, +and a lonely man, a wanderer rising from the ground. A wanderer +through the wood and up the fell, and up the high mountain, and up and +up to the edges of the ice-river and the green caves of the ice-hills. +A wanderer in spring, in summer, autumn and winter, with an empty heart +and a burning never-satisfied desire; who hath seen in the uncouth places +many an evil unmanly shape, many a foul hag and changing ugly semblance; +who hath suffered hunger and thirst and wounding and fever, and hath +seen many things, but hath never again seen that fair woman, or that +lovely feast-hall.</p> +<p>‘All praise and honour to the House of the Face, and the bounteous +valiant men thereof! and the like praise and honour to the fair women +whom they wed of the valiant and goodly House of the Steer!’</p> +<p>‘Even so say I,’ quoth Gold-mane calmly; ‘but now +wend we aback to the House, for it is morning indeed, and folk will +be stirring there.’</p> +<p>So they turned from the bridge together; and Stone-face was kind +and fatherly, and was telling his foster-son many wise things concerning +the life of a chieftain, and the giving-out of dooms and the gathering +for battle; to all which talk Face-of-god seemed to hearken gladly, +but indeed hearkened not at all; for verily his eyes were beholding +that snowy waste, and the fair woman upon it; even such an one as Stone-face +had told of.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII. THEY FARE TO THE HUNTING OF THE ELK</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>When they came into the Hall, the hearth-fire had been quickened, +and the sleepers on the floor had been wakened, and all folk were astir. +So the old man sat down by the hearth while Gold-mane busied himself +in fetching wood and water, and in sweeping out the Hall, and other +such works of the early morning. In a little while Hall-face and +the other young men and warriors were afoot duly clad, and the Alderman +came from his chamber and greeted all men kindly. Soon meat was +set upon the boards, and men broke their fast; and day dawned while +they were about it, and ere it was all done the sun rose clear and golden, +so that all men knew that the day would be fair, for the frost seemed +hard and enduring.</p> +<p>Then the eager young men and the hunters, and those who knew the +mountain best drew together about the hearth, and fell to talking of +the hunting of the elk; and there were three there who knew both the +woods and also the fells right up to the ice-rivers better than any +other; and these said that they who were fain of the hunting of the +elk would have no likelier time than that day for a year to come. +Short was the rede betwixt them, for they said they would go to the +work at once and make the most of the short winter daylight. So +they went each to his place, and some outside that House to their fathers’ +houses to fetch each man his gear. Face-of-god for his part went +to his shut-bed, and stood by his chest, and opened it, and drew out +of it a fine hauberk of ring-mail which his father had made for him: +for though Face-of-god was a deft wright, he was not by a long way so +deft as his father, who was the deftest of all men of that time and +country; so that the alien merchants would give him what he would for +his hauberks and helms, whenso he would chaffer with them, which was +but seldom. So Face-of-god did on this hauberk over his kirtle, +and over it he cast his foul-weather weed, so that none might see it: +he girt a strong war-sword to his side, cast his quiver over his shoulder, +and took his bow in his hand, although he had little lust to shoot elks +that day, even as Stone-face had said; therewithal he took his skids, +and went forth of the hall to the gate of the Burg; whereto gathered +the whole company of twenty-three, and Gold-mane the twenty-fourth. +And each man there had his skids and his bow and quiver, and whatso +other weapon, as short-sword, or wood-knife, or axe, seemed good to +him.</p> +<p>So they went out-a-gates, and clomb the stairway in the cliff which +led to the ancient watch-tower: for it was on the lower slopes of the +fells which lay near to the Weltering Water that they looked to find +the elks, and this was the nighest road thereto. When they had +gotten to the top they lost no time, but went their ways nearly due +east, making way easily where there were but scattered trees close to +the lip of the sheer cliffs.</p> +<p>They went merrily on their skids over the close-lying snow, and were +soon up on the great shoulders of the fells that went up from the bank +of the Weltering Water: at noon they came into a little dale wherein +were a few trees, and there they abided to eat their meat, and were +very merry, making for themselves tables and benches of the drifted +snow, and piling it up to windward as a defence against the wind, which +had now arisen, little but bitter from the south-east; so that some, +and they the wisest, began to look for foul weather: wherefore they +tarried the shorter while in the said dale or hollow.</p> +<p>But they were scarcely on their way again before the aforesaid south-east +wind began to grow bigger, and at last blew a gale, and brought up with +it a drift of fine snow, through which they yet made their way, but +slowly, till the drift grew so thick that they could not see each other +five paces apart.</p> +<p>Then perforce they made stay, and gathered together under a bent +which by good luck they happened upon, where they were sheltered from +the worst of the drift. There they abode, till in less than an +hour’s space the drift abated and the wind fell, and in a little +while after it was quite clear, with the sun shining brightly and the +young waxing moon white and high up in the heavens; and the frost was +harder than ever.</p> +<p>This seemed good to them; but now that they could see each other’s +faces they fell to telling over their company, and there was none missing +save Face-of-god. They were somewhat dismayed thereat, but knew +not what to do, and they deemed he might not be far off, either a little +behind or a little ahead; and Hall-face said:</p> +<p>‘There is no need to make this to-do about my brother; he can +take good care of himself; neither does a warrior of the Face die because +of a little cold and frost and snow-drift. Withal Gold-mane is +a wilful man, and of late days hath been wilful beyond his wont; let +us now find the elks.’</p> +<p>So they went on their ways hoping to fall in with him again. +No long story need be made of their hunting, for not very far from where +they had taken shelter they came upon the elks, many of them, impounded +in the drifts, pretty much where the deft hunters looked to find them. +There then was battle between the elks and the men, till the beasts +were all slain and only one man hurt: then they made them sleighs from +wood which they found in the hollows thereby, and they laid the carcasses +thereon, and so turned their faces homeward, dragging their prey with +them. But they met not Face-of-god either there or on the way +home; and Hall-face said: ‘Maybe Gold-mane will lie on the fell +to-night; and I would I were with him; for adventures oft befall such +folk when they abide in the wilds.’</p> +<p>Now it was late at night by then they reached Burgstead, so laden +as they were with the dead beasts; but they heeded the night little, +for the moon was well-nigh as bright as day for them. But when +they came to the gate of the Thorp, there were assembled the goodmen +and swains to meet them with torches and wine in their honour. +There also was Gold-mane come back before them, yea for these two hours; +and he stood clad in his holiday raiment and smiled on them.</p> +<p>Then was there some jeering at him that he was come back empty-handed +from the hunting, and that he was not able to abide the wind and the +drift; but he laughed thereat, for all this was but game and play, since +men knew him for a keen hunter and a stout woodsman; and they had deemed +it a heavy loss of him if he had been cast away, as some feared he had +been: and his brother Hall-face embraced him and kissed him, and said +to him: ‘Now the next time that thou farest to the wood will I +be with thee foot to foot, and never leave thee, and then meseemeth +I shall wot of the tale that hath befallen thee, and belike it shall +be no sorry one.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god laughed and answered but little, and they all betook +them to the House of the Face and held high feast therein, for as late +as the night was, in honour of this Hunting of the Elk.</p> +<p>No man cared to question Face-of-god closely as to how or where he +had strayed from the hunt; for he had told his own tale at once as soon +as he came home, to wit, that his right-foot skid-strap had broken, +and even while he stopped to mend it came on that drift and weather; +and that he could not move from that place without losing his way, and +that when it had cleared he knew not whither they had gone because the +snow had covered their slot. So he deemed it not unlike that they +had gone back, and that he might come up with one or two on the way, +and that in any case he wotted well that they could look after themselves; +so he turned back, not going very swiftly. All this seemed like +enough, and a little matter except to jest about, so no man made any +question concerning it: only old Stone-face said to himself:</p> +<p>‘Now were I fain to have a true tale out of him, but it is +little likely that anything shall come of my much questioning; and it +is ill forcing a young man to tell lies.’</p> +<p>So he held his peace, and the feast went on merrily and blithely.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV. CONCERNING FACE-OF-GOD AND THE MOUNTAIN</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>But it must be told of Gold-mane that what had befallen him was in +this wise. His skid-strap brake in good sooth, and he stayed to +mend it; but when he had done what was needful, he looked up and saw +no man nigh, what for the drift, and that they had gone on somewhat; +so he rose to his feet, and without more delay, instead of keeping on +toward the elk-ground and the way his face had been set, he turned himself +north-and-by-east, and went his ways swiftly towards that aírt, +because he deemed that it might lead him to the Mountain-hall where +he had guested. He abode not for the storm to clear, but swept +off through the thick of it; and indeed the wind was somewhat at his +back, so that he went the swiftlier. But when the drift was gotten +to its very worst, he sheltered himself for a little in a hollow behind +a thorn-bush he stumbled upon. As soon as it began to abate he +went on again, and at last when it was quite clear, and the sun shone +out, he found himself on a long slope of the fells covered deep with +smooth white snow, and at the higher end a great crag rising bare fifty +feet above the snow, and more rocks, but none so great, and broken ground +as he judged (the snow being deep) about it on the hither side; and +on the further, three great pine-trees all bent down and mingled together +by their load of snow.</p> +<p>Thitherward he made, as a man might, seeing nothing else to note +before him; but he had not made many strides when forth from behind +the crag by the pine-trees came a man; and at first Face-of-god thought +it might be one of his hunting-fellows gone astray, and he hailed him +in a loud voice, but as he looked he saw the sun flash back from a bright +helm on the new-comer’s head; albeit he kept on his way till there +was but a space of two hundred yards between them; when lo! the helm-bearer +notched a shaft to his bent bow and loosed at Face-of-god, and the arrow +came whistling and passed six inches by his right ear. Then Face-of-god +stopped perplexed with his case; for he was on the deep snow in his +skids, with his bow unbent, and he knew not how to bend it speedily. +He was loth to turn his back and flee, and indeed he scarce deemed that +it would help him. Meanwhile of his tarrying the archer loosed +again at him, and this time the shaft flew close to his left ear. +Then Face-of-god thought to cast himself down into the snow, but he +was ashamed; till there came a third shaft which flew over his head +amidmost and close to it. ‘Good shooting on the Mountain!’ +muttered he; ‘the next shaft will be amidst my breast, and who +knows whether the Alderman’s handiwork will keep it out.’</p> +<p>So he cried aloud: ‘Thou shootest well, brother; but art thou +a foe? If thou art, I have a sword by my side, and so hast thou; +come hither to me, and let us fight it out friendly if we must needs +fight.’</p> +<p>A laugh came down the wind to him clear but somewhat shrill, and +the archer came swiftly towards him on his skids with no weapon in his +hand save his bow; so that Face-of-god did not draw his sword, but stood +wondering.</p> +<p>As they drew nearer he beheld the face of the new-comer, and deemed +that he had seen it before; and soon, for all that it was hooded close +by the ill-weather raiment, he perceived it to be the face of Bow-may, +ruddy and smiling.</p> +<p>She laughed out loud again, as she stopped herself within three feet +of him, and said:</p> +<p>‘Yea, friend Yellow-hair, we heard of the elks and looked to +see thee hereabouts, and I knew thee at once when I came out from behind +the crag and saw thee stand bewildered.’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘Hail to thee, Bow-may! and glad am I to see +thee. But thou liest in saying that thou knewest me; else why +didst thou shoot those three shafts at me? Surely thou art not +so quick as that with all thy friends: these be sharp greetings of you +Mountain-folk.’</p> +<p>‘Thou lad with the sweet mouth,’ she said, ‘I like +to see thee and hear thee talk, but now must I hasten thy departure; +so stand we here no longer. Let us get down into the wood where +we can do off our skids and sit down, and then will I tell thee the +tidings. Come on!’</p> +<p>And she caught his hand in hers, and they went speedily down the +slopes toward the great oak-wood, the wind whistling past their ears.</p> +<p>‘Whither are we going?’ said he.</p> +<p>Said she: ‘I am to show thee the way back home, which thou +wilt not know surely amidst this snow. Come, no words! thou shalt +not have my tale from me till we are in the wood: so the sooner we are +there the sooner shalt thou be pleased.’</p> +<p>So Face-of-god held his peace, and they went on swiftly side by side. +But it was not Bow-may’s wont to be silent for long, so presently +she said:</p> +<p>‘Thou art good so do as I bid thee; but see thou, sweet playmate, +for all thou art a chieftain’s son, thou wert but feather-brained +to ask me why I shot at thee. I shoot at thee! that were a fine +tale to tell her this even! Or dost thou think that I could shoot +at a big man on the snow at two hundred paces and miss him three times? +Unless I aimed to miss.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, Bow-may,’ said he, ‘art thou so deft a Bow-may? +Thou shalt be in my company whenso I fare to battle.’</p> +<p>‘Indeed,’ she said, ‘therein thou sayest but the +bare truth: nowhere else shall I be, and thou shalt find my bow no worse +than a good shield.’</p> +<p>He laughed somewhat lightly; but she looked on him soberly and said: +‘Laugh in that fashion on the day of battle, and we shall be well +content with thee!’</p> +<p>So on they sped very swiftly, for their way was mostly down hill, +so that they were soon amongst the outskirting trees of the wood, and +presently after reached the edge of the thicket, beyond which the ground +was but thinly covered with snow.</p> +<p>There they took off their skids, and went into the thick wood and +sat down under a hornbeam tree; and ere Gold-mane could open his mouth +to speak Bow-may began and said:</p> +<p>‘Well it was that I fell in with thee, Dalesman, else had there +been murders of men to tell of; but ever she ordereth all things wisely, +though unwisely hast thou done to seek to her. Hearken! dost thou +think that thou hast done well that thou hast me here with my tale? +Well, hadst thou busied thyself with the slaying of elks, or with sitting +quietly at home, yet shouldest thou have heard my tale, and thou shouldest +have seen me in Burgstead in a day or two to tell thee concerning the +flitting of the token. And ill it is that I have missed it, for +fain had I been to behold the House of the Face, and to have seen thee +sitting there in thy dignity amidst the kindred of chieftains.’</p> +<p>And she sighed therewith. But he said: ‘Hold up thine +heart, Bow-may! On the word of a true man that shall befall thee +one day. But come, playmate, give me thy tale!’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘I must now tell thee in the wild-wood +what else I had told thee in the Hall. Hearken closely, for this +is the message:</p> +<p>‘<i>Seek not to me again till thou hast the token; else assuredly +wilt thou be slain, and I shall be sorry for many a day. Thereof +as now I may not tell thee more. Now as to the token: When March +is worn two weeks fail not to go to and fro on the place of the Maiden +Ward for an hour before sunrise every day till thou hear tidings</i>.’</p> +<p>‘Now,’ quoth Bow-may, ‘hast thou hearkened and +understood?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said he.</p> +<p>She said: ‘Then tell me the words of my message concerning +the token.’ And he did so word for word. Then she +said:</p> +<p>‘It is well, there is no more to say. Now must I lead +thee till thou knowest the wood; and then mayst thou get on to the smooth +snow again, and so home merrily. Yet, thou grey-eyed fellow, I +will have my pay of thee before I do that last work.’</p> +<p>Therewith she turned about to him and took his head between her hands, +and kissed him well favouredly both cheeks and mouth; and she laughed, +albeit the tears stood in her eyes as she said: ‘Now smelleth +the wood sweeter, and summer will come back again. And even thus +will I do once more when we stand side by side in battle array.’</p> +<p>He smiled kindly on her and nodded as they both rose up from the +earth: she had taken off her foul-weather gloves while they spake, and +he kissed her hand, which was shapely of fashion albeit somewhat brown, +and hard of palm, and he said in friendly wise:</p> +<p>‘Thou art a merry faring-fellow, Bow-may, and belike shalt +be withal a true fighting-fellow. Come now, thou shalt be my sister +and I thy brother, in despite of those three shafts across the snow.’</p> +<p>He laughed therewith; she laughed not, but seemed glad, and said +soberly:</p> +<p>‘Yea, I may well be thy sister; for belike I also am of the +people of the Gods, who have come into these Dales by many far ways. +I am of the House of the Ragged Sword of the Kindred of the Wolf. +Come, brother, let us toward Wildlake’s Way.’</p> +<p>Therewith she went before him and led through the thicket as by an +assured and wonted path, and he followed hard at heel; but his thought +went from her for a while; for those words of brother and sister that +he had spoken called to his mind the Bride, and their kindness of little +children, and the days when they seemed to have nought to do but to +make the sun brighter, and the flowers fairer, and the grass greener, +and the birds happier each for the other; and a hard and evil thing +it seemed to him that now he should be making all these things nought +and dreary to her, now when he had become a man and deeds lay before +him. Yet again was he solaced by what Bow-may had said concerning +battle to come; for he deemed that she must have had this from the Friend’s +foreseeing; and he longed sore for deeds to do, wherein all these things +might be cleared up and washen clean as it were.</p> +<p>So passed they through the wood a long way, and it was getting dark +therein, and Gold-mane said:</p> +<p>‘Hold now, Bow-may, for I am at home here.’</p> +<p>She looked around and said: ‘Yea, so it is: I was thinking +of many things. Farewell and live merrily till March comes and +the token!’</p> +<p>Therewith she turned and went her ways and was soon out of sight, +and he went lightly through the wood, and then on skids over the hard +snow along the Dale’s edge till he was come to the watch-tower, +when the moon was bright in heaven.</p> +<p>Thus was he at Burgstead and the House of the Face betimes, and before +the hunters were gotten back.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XV. MURDER AMONGST THE FOLK OF THE WOODLANDERS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>So wore away midwinter tidingless. Stone-face spake no more +to Face-of-god about the wood and its wights, when he saw that the young +man had come back hale and merry, seemed not to crave over-much to go +back thither. As for the Bride, she was sad, and more than misdoubted +all; but dauntless as she was in matters that try men’s hardihood, +she yet lacked heart to ask of Face-of-god what had befallen him since +the autumn-tide, or where he was with her. So she put a force +upon herself not to look sad or craving when she was in his company, +as full oft she was; for he rather sought her than shunned her. +For when he saw her thus, he deemed things were changing with her as +they had changed with him, and he bethought him of what he had spoken +to Bow-may, and deemed that even so he might speak with the Bride when +the time came, and that she would not be grieved beyond measure, and +all would be well.</p> +<p>Now came on the thaw, and the snow went, and the grass grew all up +and down the Dale, and all waters were big. And about this time +arose rumours of strange men in the wood, uncouth, vile, and murderous, +and many of the feebler sort were made timorous thereby.</p> +<p>But a little before March was born came new tidings from the Woodlanders; +to wit: There came on a time to the house of a woodland carle, a worthy +goodman well renowned of all, two wayfarers in the first watch of the +night; and these men said that they were wending down to the Plain from +a far-away dale, Rose-dale to wit, which all men had heard of, and that +they had strayed from the way and were exceeding weary, and they craved +a meal’s meat and lodging for the night.</p> +<p>This the goodman might nowise gainsay, and he saw no harm in it, +wherefore he bade them abide and be merry.</p> +<p>These men, said they who told the tidings, were outlanders, and no +man had seen any like them before: they were armed, and bore short bows +made of horn, and round targets, and coats-of-fence done over with horn +scales; they had crooked swords girt to their sides, and axes of steel +forged all in one piece, right good weapons. They were clad in +scarlet and had much silver on their raiment and about their weapons, +and great rings of the same on their arms; and all this silver seemed +brand-new.</p> +<p>Now the Woodland Carle gave them of such things as he had, and was +kind and blithe to them: there were in his house besides himself five +men of his sons and kindred, and his wife and three daughters and two +other maids. So they feasted after the Woodlanders’ fashion, +and went to bed a little before midnight. Two hours after, the +carle awoke and heard a little stir, and he looked and saw the guests +on their feet amidst the hall clad in all their war-gear; and they had +betwixt them his two youngest daughters, maids of fifteen and twelve +winters, and had bound their hands and done clouts over their mouths, +so that they might not cry out; and they were just at point to carry +them off. Thereat the goodman, naked as he was, caught up his +sword and made at these murder-carles, and or ever they were ware of +him he had hewn down one and turned to face the other, who smote at +him with his steel axe and gave him a great wound on the shoulder, and +therewithal fled out at the open door and forth into the wood.</p> +<p>The Woodlander made no stay to raise the cry (there was no need, +for the hall was astir now from end to end, and men getting to their +weapons), but ran out after the felon even as he was; and, in spite +of his grievous hurt, overran him no long way from the house before +he had gotten into the thicket. But the man was nimble and strong, +and the goodman unsteady from his wound, and by then the others of the +household came up with the hue and cry he had gotten two more sore wounds +and was just making an end of throttling the felon with his bare hands. +So he fell into their arms fainting from weakness, and for all they +could do he died in two hours’ time from that axe-wound in his +shoulder, and another on the side of the head, and a knife-thrust in +his side; and he was a man of sixty winters.</p> +<p>But the stranger he had slain outright; and the one whom he had smitten +in the hall died before the dawn, thrusting all help aside, and making +no sound of speech.</p> +<p>When these tidings came to Burgstead they seemed great to men, and +to Gold-mane more than all. So he and many others took their weapons +and fared up to Wildlake’s Way, and so came to the Woodland Carles. +But the Woodlanders had borne out the carcasses of those felons and +laid them on the green before Wood-grey’s door (for that was the +name of the dead goodman), and they were saying that they would not +bury such accursed folk, but would bear them a little way so that they +should not be vexed with the stink of them, and cast them into the thicket +for the wolf and the wild-cat and the stoat to deal with; and they should +lie there, weapons and silver and all; and they deemed it base to strip +such wretches, for who would wear their raiment or bear their weapons +after them.</p> +<p>There was a great ring of folk round about them when they of Burgstead +drew near, and they shouted for joy to see their neighbours, and made +way before them. Then the Dalesmen cursed these murderers who +had slain so good a man, and they all praised his manliness, whereas +he ran out into the night naked and wounded after his foe, and had fallen +like his folk of old time.</p> +<p>It was a bright spring afternoon in that clearing of the Wood, and +they looked at the two dead men closely; and Gold-mane, who had been +somewhat silent and moody till then, became merry and wordy; for he +beheld the men and saw that they were utterly strange to him: they were +short of stature, crooked-legged, long-armed, very strong for their +size: with small blue eyes, snubbed-nosed, wide-mouthed, thin-lipped, +very swarthy of skin, exceeding foul of favour. He and all others +wondered who they were, and whence they came, for never had they seen +their like; and the Woodlanders, who often guested outlanders strayed +from the way of divers kindreds and nations, said also that none such +had they ever seen. But Stone-face, who stood by Gold-mane, shook +his head and quoth he:</p> +<p>‘The Wild-wood holdeth many marvels, and these be of them: +the spawn of evil wights quickeneth therein, and at other whiles it +melteth away again like the snow; so may it be with these carcasses.’</p> +<p>And some of the older folk of the Woodlanders who stood by hearkened +what he said, and deemed his words wise, for they remembered their ancient +lore and many a tale of old time.</p> +<p>Thereafter they of Burgstead went into Wood-grey’s hall, or +as many of them as might, for it was but a poor place and not right +great. There they saw the goodman laid on the daïs in all +his war-gear, under the last tie-beam of his hall, whereon was carved +amidst much goodly work of knots and flowers and twining stems the image +of the Wolf of the Waste, his jaws open and gaping: the wife and daughters +of the goodman and other women of the folk stood about the bier singing +some old song in a low voice, and some sobbing therewithal, for the +man was much beloved: and much people of the Woodlanders was in the +hall, and it was somewhat dusk within.</p> +<p>So the Burgstead men greeted that folk kindly and humbly, and again +they fell to praising the dead man, saying how his deed should long +be remembered in the Dale and wide about; and they called him a fearless +man and of great worth. And the women hearkened, and ceased their +crooning and their sobbing, and stood up proudly and raised their heads +with gleaming eyes; and as the words of the Burgstead men ended, they +lifted up their voices and sang loudly and clearly, standing together +in a row, ten of them, on the daïs of that poor hall, facing the +gable and the wolf-adorned tie-beam, heeding nought as they sang what +was about or behind them.</p> +<p>And this is some of what they sang:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Why sit ye bare in the spinning-room?<br />Why weave ye naked at +the loom?</p> +<p>Bare and white as the moon we be,<br />That the Earth and the drifting +night may see.</p> +<p>Now what is the worst of all your work?<br />What curse amidst the +web shall lurk?</p> +<p>The worst of the work our hands shall win<br />Is wrack and ruin +round the kin.</p> +<p>Shall the woollen yarn and the flaxen thread<br />Be gear for living +men or dead?</p> +<p>The woollen yarn and the flaxen thread<br />Shall flare ’twixt +living men and dead.</p> +<p>O what is the ending of your day?<br />When shall ye rise and wend +away?</p> +<p>Our day shall end to-morrow morn,<br />When we hear the voice of +the battle-horn.</p> +<p>Where first shall eyes of men behold<br />This weaving of the moonlight +cold?</p> +<p>There where the alien host abides<br />The gathering on the Mountain-sides.</p> +<p>How long aloft shall the fair web fly<br />When the bows are bent +and the spears draw nigh?</p> +<p>From eve to morn and morn till eve<br />Aloft shall fly the work +we weave.</p> +<p>What then is this, the web ye win?<br />What wood-beast waxeth stark +therein?</p> +<p>We weave the Wolf and the gift of war<br />From the men that were +to the men that are.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>So sang they: and much were all men moved at their singing, and there +was none but called to mind the old days of the Fathers, and the years +when their banner went wide in the world.</p> +<p>But the Woodlanders feasted them of Burgstead what they might, and +then went the Dalesmen back to their houses; but on the morrow’s +morrow they fared thither again, and Wood-grey was laid in mound amidst +a great assemblage of the Folk.</p> +<p>Many men said that there was no doubt that those two felons were +of the company of those who had ransacked the steads of Penny-thumb +and Harts-bane; and so at first deemed Bristler the son of Brightling: +but after a while, when he had had time to think of it, he changed his +mind; for he said that such men as these would have slain first and +ransacked afterwards: and some who loved neither Penny-thumb nor Harts-bane +said that they would not have been at the pains to choose for ransacking +the two worst men about the Dale, whose loss was no loss to any but +themselves.</p> +<p>As for Gold-mane he knew not what to think, except that his friends +of the Mountain had had nought to do with it.</p> +<p>So wore the days awhile.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI. THE BRIDE SPEAKETH WITH FACE-OF-GOD</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>February had died into March, and March was now twelve days old, +on a fair and sunny day an hour before noon; and Face-of-god was in +a meadow a scant mile down the Dale from Burgstead. He had been +driving a bull into a goodman’s byre nearby, and had had to spend +toil and patience both in getting him out of the fields and into the +byre; for the beast was hot with the spring days and the new grass. +So now he was resting himself in happy mood in an exceeding pleasant +place, a little meadow to wit, on one side whereof was a great orchard +or grove of sweet chestnuts, which went right up to the feet of the +Southern Cliffs: across the meadow ran a clear brook towards the Weltering +Water, free from big stones, in some places dammed up for the flooding +of the deep pasture-meadow, and with the grass growing on its lips down +to the very water. There was a low bank just outside the chestnut +trees, as if someone had raised a dyke about them when they were young, +which had been trodden low and spreading through the lapse of years +by the faring of many men and beasts. The primroses bloomed thick +upon it now, and here and there along it was a low blackthorn bush in +full blossom; from the mid-meadow and right down to the lip of the brook +was the grass well nigh hidden by the blossoms of the meadow-saffron, +with daffodils sprinkled about amongst them, and in the trees and bushes +the birds, and chiefly the blackbirds, were singing their loudest.</p> +<p>There sat Face-of-god on the bank resting after his toil, and happy +was his mood; since in two days’ wearing he should be pacing the +Maiden Ward awaiting the token that was to lead him to Shadowy Vale; +so he sat calling to mind the Friend as he had last seen her, and striving +as it were to set her image standing on the flowery grass before him, +till all the beauty of the meadow seemed bare and empty to him without +her. Then it fell into his mind that this had been a beloved trysting-place +betwixt him and the Bride, and that often when they were little would +they come to gather chestnuts in the grove, and thereafter sit and prattle +on the old dyke; or in spring when the season was warm would they go +barefoot into the brook, seeking its treasures of troutlets and flowers +and clean-washed agate pebbles. Yea, and time not long ago had +they met here to talk as lovers, and sat on that very bank in all the +kindness of good days without a blemish, and both he and she had loved +the place well for its wealth of blossoms and deep grass and goodly +trees and clear running stream.</p> +<p>As he thought of all this, and how often there he had praised to +himself her beauty, which he scarce dared praise to her, he frowned +and slowly rose to his feet, and turned toward the chestnut-grove, as +though he would go thence that way; but or ever he stepped down from +the dyke he turned about again, and even therewith, like the very image +and ghost of his thought, lo! the Bride herself coming up from out the +brook and wending toward him, her wet naked feet gleaming in the sun +as they trod down the tender meadow-saffron and brushed past the tufts +of daffodils. He stood staring at her discomforted, for on that +day he had much to think of that seemed happy to him, and he deemed +that she would now question him, and his mind pondered divers ways of +answering her, and none seemed good to him. She drew near and +let her skirts fall over her feet, and came to him, her gown hem dragging +over the flowers: then she stood straight up before him and greeted +him, but reached not forth her hand to him nor touched him. Her +face was paler that its wont, and her voice trembled as she spake to +him and said:</p> +<p>‘Face-of-god, I would ask thee a gift.’</p> +<p>‘All gifts,’ he said, ‘that thou mayest ask, and +I may give, lie open to thee.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘If I be alive when the time comes this gift thou +mayst well give me.’</p> +<p>‘Sweet kinswoman,’ said he, ‘tell me what it is +that thou wouldest have of me.’ And he was ill-at-ease as +he waited for her answer.</p> +<p>She said: ‘Ah, kinsman, kinsman! Woe on the day that +maketh kinship accursed to me because thou desirest it!’</p> +<p>He held his peace and was exceeding sorry; and she said:</p> +<p>‘This is the gift that I ask of thee, that in the days to come +when thou art wedded, thou wilt give me the second man-child whom thou +begettest.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘This shalt thou have, and would that I might give +thee much more. Would that we were little children together other +again, as when we played here in other days.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘I would have a token of thee that thou shalt show +to the God, and swear on it to give me the gift. For the times +change.’</p> +<p>‘What token wilt thou have?’ said he.</p> +<p>She said: ‘When next thou farest to the Wood, thou shalt bring +me back, it maybe a flower from the bank ye sit upon, or a splinter +from the daïs of the hall wherein ye feast, or maybe a ring or +some matter that the strangers are wont to wear. That shall be +the token.’</p> +<p>She spoke slowly, hanging her head adown, but she lifted it presently +and looked into his face and said:</p> +<p>‘Woe’s me, woe’s me, Gold-mane! How evil +is this day, when bewailing me I may not bewail thee also! For +I know that thine heart is glad. All through the winter have I +kept this hidden in my heart, and durst not speak to thee. But +now the spring-tide hath driven me to it. Let summer come, and +who shall say?’</p> +<p>Great was his grief, and his shame kept him silent, and he had no +word to say; and again she said:</p> +<p>‘Tell me, Gold-mane, when goest thou thither?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘I know not surely, may happen in two days, may happen +in ten. Why askest thou?’</p> +<p>‘O friend!’ she said, ‘is it a new thing that I +should ask thee whither thou goest and whence thou comest, and the times +of thy coming and going. Farewell to-day! Forget not the +token. Woe’s me, that I may not kiss thy fair face!’</p> +<p>She spread her arms abroad and lifted up her face as one who waileth, +but no sound came from her lips; then she turned about and went away +as she had come.</p> +<p>But as for him he stood there after she was gone in all confusion, +as if he were undone: for he felt his manhood lessened that he should +thus and so sorely have hurt a friend, and in a manner against his will. +And yet he was somewhat wroth with her, that she had come upon him so +suddenly, and spoken to him with such mastery, and in so few words, +and he with none to make answer to her, and that she had so marred his +pleasure and his hope of that fair day. Then he sat him down again +on the flowery bank, and little by little his heart softened, and he +once more called to mind many a time when they had been there before, +and the plays and the games they had had together there when they were +little. And he bethought him of the days that were long to him +then, and now seemed short to him, and as if they were all grown together +into one story, and that a sweet one. Then his breast heaved with +a sob, and the tears rose to his eyes and burned and stung him, and +he fell a-weeping for that sweet tale, and wept as he had wept once +before on that old dyke when there had been some child’s quarrel +between them, and she had gone away and left him.</p> +<p>Then after a while he ceased his weeping, and looked about him lest +anyone might be coming, and then he arose and went to and fro in the +chestnut-grove for a good while, and afterwards went his ways from that +meadow, saying to himself: ‘Yet remaineth to me the morrow of +to-morrow, and that is the first of the days of the watching for the +token.’</p> +<p>But all that day he was slow to meet the eyes of men; and in the +hall that eve he was silent and moody; for from time to time it came +over him that some of his manhood had departed from him.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII. THE TOKEN COMETH FROM THE MOUNTAIN</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>The next day wore away tidingless; and the day after Face-of-god +arose betimes; for it was the first day of his watch, and he was at +the Maiden Ward before the time appointed on a very fair and bright +morning, and he went to and fro on that place, and had no tidings. +So he came away somewhat cast down, and said within himself: ‘Is +it but a lie and a mocking when all is said?’</p> +<p>On the morrow he went thither again, and the morn was wild and stormy +with drift of rain, and low clouds hurrying over the earth, though for +the sunrise they lifted a little in the east, and the sun came up over +the passes, amidst the red and angry rack of clouds. This morn +also gave him no tidings of the token, and he was wroth and perturbed +in spirit: but towards evening he said:</p> +<p>‘It is well: ten days she gave me, so that she might be able +to send without fail on one of them; she will not fail me.’</p> +<p>So again on the morrow he was there betimes, and the morn was windy +as on the day before, but the clouds higher and of better promise for +the day. Face-of-god walked to and fro on the Maiden Ward, and +as he turned toward Burgstead for the tenth time, he heard, as he deemed, +a bow-string twang afar off, and even therewith came a shaft flying +heavily like a winged bird, which smote a great standing stone on the +other side of the way, where of old some chieftain had been buried, +and fell to earth at its foot. He went up to it and handled it, +and saw that there was a piece of thin parchment wrapped about it, which +indeed he was eager to unwrap at once, but forebore; because he was +on the highway, and people were already astir, and even then passed +by him a goodman of the Dale with a man of his going afield together, +and they gave him the sele of the day. So he went along the highway +a little till he came to a place where was a footbridge over into the +meadow. He crossed thereby and went swiftly till he reached a +rising ground grown over with hazel-trees; there he sat down among the +rabbit-holes, the primrose and wild-garlic blooming about him, and three +blackbirds answering one another from the edges of the coppice. +Straightway when he had looked and seen none coming he broke the threads +that were wound about the scroll and the arrow, and unrolled the parchment; +and there was writing thereon in black ink of small letters, but very +fair, and this is what he read therein:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>Come thou to the Mountain Hall by the path which thou knowest +of, on the morrow of the day whereon thou readest this. Rise betimes +and come armed, for there are other men than we in the wood; to whom +thy death should be a gain. When thou art come to the Hall, thou +shalt find no man therein; but a great hound only, tied to a bench nigh +the daïs. Call him by his name, Sure-foot to wit, and give +him to eat from the meat upon the board, and give him water to drink. +If the day is then far spent, as it is like to be, abide thou with the +hound in the hall through the night, and eat of what thou shalt find +there; but see that the hound fares not abroad till the morrow’s +morn: then lead him out and bring him to the north-east corner of the +Hall, and he shall lift the slot for thee that leadeth to the Shadowy +Yale. Follow him and all good go with thee.</i></p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Now when he had read this, earth seemed fair indeed about him, and +he scarce knew whither to turn or what to do to make the most of his +joy. He presently went back to Burgstead and into the House of +the Face, where all men were astir now, and the day was clearing. +He hid the shaft under his kirtle, for he would not that any should +see it; so he went to his shut-bed and laid it up in his chest, wherein +he kept his chiefest treasures; but the writing on the scroll he set +in his bosom and so hid it. He went joyfully and proudly, as one +who knoweth more tidings and better than those around him. But +Stone-face beheld him, and said ‘Foster-son, thou art happy. +Is it that the spring-tide is in thy blood, and maketh thee blithe with +all things, or hast thou some new tidings? Nay, I would not have +an answer out of thee; but here is good rede: when next thou goest into +the wood, it were nought so ill for thee to have a valiant old carle +by thy side; one that loveth thee, and would die for thee if need were; +one who might watch when thou wert seeking. Or else beware! for +there are evil things abroad in the Wood, and moreover the brethren +of those two felons who were slain at Carlstead.’</p> +<p>Then Gold-mane constrained himself to answer the old carle softly; +and he thanked him kindly for his offer, and said that so it should +be before long. So the talk between them fell, and Stone-face +went away somewhat well-pleased.</p> +<p>And now was Face-of-god become wary; and he would not draw men’s +eyes and speech on him; so he went afield with Hall-face to deal with +the lambs and the ewes, and did like other men. No less wary was +he in the hall that even, and neither spake much nor little; and when +his father spake to him concerning the Bride, and made game of him as +a somewhat sluggish groom, he did not change countenance, but answered +lightly what came to hand.</p> +<p>On the morrow ere the earliest dawn he was afoot, and he clad himself +and did on his hauberk, his father’s work, which was fine-wrought +and a stout defence, and reached down to his knees; and over that he +did on a goodly green kirtle well embroidered: he girt his war-sword +to his side, and it was the work of his father’s father, and a +very good sword: its name was Dale-warden. He did a good helm +on his head, and slung a targe at his back, and took two spears in his +hand, short but strong-shafted and well-steeled. Thus arrayed +he left Burgstead before the dawn, and came to Wildlake’s Way +and betook him to the Woodland. He made no stop or stay on the +path, but ate his meat standing by an oak-tree close by the half-blind +track. When he came to the little wood-lawn, where was the toft +of the ancient house, he looked all round about him, for he deemed that +a likely place for those ugly wood-wights to set on him; but nought +befell him, though he stooped and drank of the woodland rill warily +enough. So he passed on; and there were other places also where +he fared warily, because they seemed like to hold lurking felons; though +forsooth the whole wood might well serve their turn. But no evil +befell him, and at last, when it yet lacked an hour to sunset, he came +to the wood-lawn where Wild-wearer had made his onset that other eve.</p> +<p>He went straight up to the house, his heart beating, and he scarce +believing but that he should find the Friend abiding him there: but +when he pushed the door it gave way before him at once, and he entered +and found no man therein, and the walls stripped bare and no shield +or weapon hanging on the panels. But the hound he saw tied to +a bench nigh the daïs, and the bristles on the beast’s neck +arose, and he snarled on Face-of-god, and strained on his leathern leash. +Then Face-of-god went up to him and called him by his name, Sure-foot, +and gave him his hand to lick, and he brought him water, and fed him +with flesh from the meat on the board; so the beast became friendly +and wagged his tail and whined and slobbered his hand.</p> +<p>Then he went all about the house, and saw and heard no living thing +therein save the mice in the panels and Sure-foot. So he came +back to the daïs, and sat him down at the board and ate his fill, +and thought concerning his case. And it came into his mind that +the Woman of the Mountain had some deed for him to do which would try +his manliness and exalt his fame; and his heart rose high and he was +glad, and he saw himself sitting beside her on the daïs of a very +fair hall beloved and honoured of all the folk, and none had aught to +say against him or owed him any grudge. Thus he pleased himself +in thinking of the good days to come, sitting there till the hall grew +dusk and dark and the night-wind moaned about it.</p> +<p>Then after a while he arose and raked together the brands on the +hearth, and made light in the hall and looked to the door. And +he found there were bolts and bars thereto, so he shot the bolts and +drew the bars into their places and made all as sure as might be. +Then he brought Sure-foot down from the daïs, and tied him up so +that he might lie down athwart the door, and then lay down his hauberk +with his naked sword ready to his hand, and slept long while.</p> +<p>When he awoke it was darker than when he had lain him for the moon +had set; yet he deemed that the day was at point of breaking. +So he fetched water and washed the night off him, and saw a little glimmer +of the dawn. Then he ate somewhat of the meat on the board, and +did on his helm and his other gear, and unbarred the door, and led Sure-foot +without, and brought him to the north-east corner of the house, and +in a little while he lifted the slot and they departed, the man and +the hound, just as broke dawn from over the mountains.</p> +<p>Sure-foot led right into the heart of the pine-wood, and it was dark +enough therein, with nought but a feeble glimmer for some while, and +long was the way therethrough; but in two hours’ space was there +something of a break, and they came to the shore of a dark deep tarn +on whose windless and green waters the daylight shone fully. The +hound skirted the water, and led on unchecked till the trees began to +grow smaller and the air colder for all that the sun was higher; for +they had been going up and up all the way.</p> +<p>So at last after a six hours’ journey they came clean out of +the pine-wood, and before them lay the black wilderness of the bare +mountains, and beyond them, looking quite near now, the great ice-peaks, +the wall of the world. It was but an hour short of noon by this +time, and the high sun shone down on a barren boggy moss which lay betwixt +them and the rocky waste. Sure-foot made no stay, but threaded +the ways that went betwixt the quagmires, and in another hour led Face-of-god +into a winding valley blinded by great rocks, and everywhere stony and +rough, with a trickle of water running amidst of it. The hound +fared on up the dale to where the water was bridged by a great fallen +stone, and so over it and up a steep bent on the further side, on to +a marvellously rough mountain-neck, whiles mere black sand cumbered +with scattered rocks and stones, whiles beset with mires grown over +with the cottony mire-grass; here and there a little scanty grass growing; +otherwhere nought but dwarf willow ever dying ever growing, mingled +with moss or red-blossomed sengreen; and all blending together into +mere desolation.</p> +<p>Few living things they saw there; up on the neck a few sheep were +grazing the scanty grass, but there was none to tend them; yet Face-of-god +deemed the sight of them good, for there must be men anigh who owned +them. For the rest, the whimbrel laughed across the mires; high +up in heaven a great eagle was hanging; once and again a grey fox leapt +up before them, and the heath-fowl whirred up from under Face-of-god’s +feet. A raven who was sitting croaking on a rock in that first +dale stirred uneasily on his perch as he saw them, and when they were +passed flapped his wings and flew after them croaking still.</p> +<p>Now they fared over that neck somewhat east, making but slow way +because the ground was so broken and rocky; and in another hour’s +space Sure-foot led down-hill due east to where the stony neck sank +into another desolate miry heath still falling toward the east, but +whose further side was walled by a rampart of crags cleft at their tops +into marvellous-shapes, coal-black, ungrassed and unmossed. Thitherward +the hound led straight, and Gold-mane followed wondering: as he drew +near them he saw that they were not very high, the tallest peak scant +fifty feet from the face of the heath.</p> +<p>They made their way through the scattered rocks at the foot of these +crags, till, just where the rock-wall seemed the closest, the way through +the stones turned into a path going through it skew-wise; and it was +now so clear a path that belike it had been bettered by men’s +hands. Down thereby Face-of-god followed the hound, deeming that +he was come to the gates of the Shadowy Vale, and the path went down +steeply and swiftly. But when he had gone down a while, the rocks +on his right hand sank lower for a space, so that he could look over +and see what lay beneath.</p> +<p>There lay below him a long narrow vale quite plain at the bottom, +walled on the further side as on the hither by sheer rocks of black +stone. The plain was grown over with grass, but he could see no +tree therein: a deep river, dark and green, ran through the vale, sometimes +through its midmost, sometimes lapping the further rock-wall: and he +thought indeed that on many a day in the year the sun would never shine +on that valley.</p> +<p>Thus much he saw, and then the rocks rose again and shut it from +his sight; and at last they drew so close together over head that he +was in a way going through a cave with little daylight coming from above, +and in the end he was in a cave indeed and mere darkness: but with the +last feeble glimmer of light he thought he saw carved on a smooth space +of the living rock at his left hand the image of a wolf.</p> +<p>This cave lasted but a little way, and soon the hound and the man +were going once more between sheer black rocks, and the path grew steeper +yet and was cut into steps. At last there was a sharp turn, and +they stood on the top of a long stony scree, down which Sure-foot bounded +eagerly, giving tongue as he went; but Face-of-god stood still and looked, +for now the whole Dale lay open before him.</p> +<p>That river ran from north to south, and at the south end the cliffs +drew so close to it that looking thence no outgate could be seen; but +at the north end there was as it were a dreary street of rocks, the +river flowing amidmost and leaving little foothold on either side, somewhat +as it was with the pass leading from the mountains into Burgdale.</p> +<p>Amidmost of the Dale a little toward the north end he saw a doom-ring +of black stones, and hard by it an ancient hall builded of the same +black stone both wall and roof, and thitherward was Sure-foot now running. +Face-of-god looked up and down the Dale and could see no break in the +wall of sheer rock: toward the southern end he saw a few booths and +cots built roughly of stone and thatched with turf; thereabout he saw +a few folk moving about, the most of whom seemed to be women and children; +there were some sheep and lambs near these cots, and a herd of fifty +or so of somewhat goodly mountain-kine were feeding higher up the valley. +He could look down into the river from where he stood, and he saw that +it ran between rocky banks going straight down from the face of the +meadow, which was rather high above the water, so that it seemed little +likely that the water should rise over its banks, either in summer or +winter; and in summer was it like to be highest, because the vale was +so near to the high mountains and their snows.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII. FACE-OF-GOD TALKETH WITH THE FRIEND IN SHADOWY +VALE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>It was now about two hours after noon, and a broad band of sunlight +lay upon the grass of the vale below Gold-mane’s feet; he went +lightly down the scree, and strode forward over the level grass toward +the Doom-ring, his helm and war-gear glittering bright in the sun. +He must needs go through the Doom-ring to come to the Hall, and as he +stepped out from behind the last of the big upright-stones, he saw a +woman standing on the threshold of the Hall-door, which was but some +score of paces from him, and knew her at once for the Friend.</p> +<p>She was clad like himself in a green kirtle gaily embroidered and +fitting close to her body, and had no gown or cloak over it; she had +a golden fillet on her head beset with blue mountain stones, and her +hair hung loose behind her.</p> +<p>Her beauty was so exceeding, and so far beyond all memory of her +that his mind had held, that once more fear of her fell upon Face-of-god, +and he stood still with beating heart till she should speak to him. +But she came forward swiftly with both her hands held out, smiling and +happy-faced, and looking very kindly on him, and she took his hands +and said to him:</p> +<p>‘Now welcome, Gold-mane, welcome, Face-of-god! and twice welcome +art thou and threefold. Lo! this is the day that thou asked for: +art thou happy in it?’</p> +<p>He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them timorously, but said +nought; and therewithal Sure-foot came running forth from the Hall, +and fell to bounding round about them, barking noisily after the manner +of dogs who have met their masters again; and still she held his hands +and beheld him kindly. Then she called the hound to her, and patted +him on the neck and quieted him, and then turned to Face-of-god and +laughed happily and said:</p> +<p>‘I do not bid thee hold thy peace; yet thou sayest nought. +Is well with thee?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ he said, ‘and more than well.’</p> +<p>‘Thou seemest to me a goodly warrior,’ she said; ‘hast +thou met any foemen yesterday or this morning?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said he, ‘none hindered me; thou hast made +the ways easy to me.’</p> +<p>She said soberly, ‘Such as I might do, I did. But we +may not wield everything, for our foes are many, and I feared for thee. +But come thou into our house, which is ours, and far more ours than +the booth before the pine-wood.’</p> +<p>She took his hand again and led him toward the door, but Face-of-god +looked up, and above the lintel he saw carved on the dark stone that +image of the Wolf, even as he had seen it carved on Wood-grey’s +tie-beam; and therewith such thoughts came into his mind that he stopped +to look, pressing the Friend’s hand hard as though bidding her +note it. The stone wherein the image was carved was darker than +the other building stones, and might be called black; the jaws of the +wood-beast were open and gaping, and had been painted with cinnabar, +but wind and weather had worn away the most of the colour.</p> +<p>Spake the Friend: ‘So it is: thou beholdest the token of the +God and Father of out Fathers, that telleth the tale of so many days, +that the days which now pass by us be to them but as the drop in the +sea of waters. Thou beholdest the sign of our sorrow, the memory +of our wrong; yet is it also the token of our hope. Maybe it shall +lead thee far.’</p> +<p>‘Whither?’ said he. But she answered not a great +while, and he looked at her as she stood a-gazing on the image, and +saw how the tears stole out of her eyes and ran adown her cheeks. +Then again came the thought to him of Wood-grey’s hall, and the +women of the kindred standing before the Wolf and singing of him; and +though there was little comeliness in them and she was so exceeding +beauteous, he could not but deem that they were akin to her.</p> +<p>But after a while she wiped the tears from her face and turned to +him and said: ‘My friend, the Wolf shall lead thee no-whither +but where I also shall be, whatsoever peril or grief may beset the road +or lurk at the ending thereof. Thou shalt be no thrall, to labour +while I look on.’</p> +<p>His heart swelled within him as she spoke, and he was at point to +beseech her love that moment; but now her face had grown gay and bright +again, and she said while he was gathering words to speak withal:</p> +<p>‘Come in, Gold-mane, come into our house; for I have many things +to say to thee. And moreover thou art so hushed, and so fearsome +in thy mail, that I think thou yet deemest me to be a Wight of the Waste, +such as Stone-face thy Fosterer told thee tales of, and forewarned thee. +So would I eat before thee, and sign the meat with the sign of the Earth-god’s +Hammer, to show thee that he is in error concerning me, and that I am +a very woman flesh and fell, as my kindred were before me.’</p> +<p>He laughed and was exceeding glad, and said: ‘Tell me now, +kind friend, dost thou deem that Stone-face’s tales are mere mockery +of his dreams, and that he is beguiled by empty semblances or less? +Or are there such Wights in the Waste.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘the man is a true man; and of +these things are there many ancient tales which we may not doubt. +Yet so it is that such wights have I never yet seen, nor aught to scare +me save evil men: belike it is that I have been over-much busied in +dealing with sorrow and ruin to look after them: or it may be that they +feared me and the wrath-breeding grief of the kindred.’</p> +<p>He looked at her earnestly, and the wisdom of her heart seemed to +enter into his; but she said: ‘It is of men we must talk, and +of me and thee. Come with me, my friend.’</p> +<p>And she stepped lightly over the threshold and drew him in. +The Hall was stern and grim and somewhat dusky, for its windows were +but small: it was all of stone, both walls and roof. There was +no timber-work therein save the benches and chairs, a little about the +doors at the lower end that led to the buttery and out-bowers; and this +seemed to have been wrought of late years; yea, the chairs against the +gable on the daïs were of stone built into the wall, adorned with +carving somewhat sparingly, the image of the Wolf being done over the +midmost of them. He looked up and down the Hall, and deemed it +some seventy feet over all from end to end; and he could see in the +dimness those same goodly hangings on the wall which he had seen in +the woodland booth.</p> +<p>She led him up to the daïs, and stood there leaning up against +the arm of one of those stone seats silent for a while; then she turned +and looked at him, and said:</p> +<p>‘Yea, thou lookest a goodly warrior; yet am I glad that thou +camest hither without battle. Tell me, Gold-mane,’ she said, +taking one of his spears from his hand, ‘art thou deft with the +spear?’</p> +<p>‘I have been called so,’ said he.</p> +<p>She looked at him sweetly and said: ‘Canst thou show me the +feat of spear-throwing in this Hall, or shall we wend outside presently +that I may see thee throw?’</p> +<p>‘The Hall sufficeth,’ he said. ‘Shall I set +this steel in the lintel of the buttery door yonder?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, if thou canst,’ she said.</p> +<p>He smiled and took the spear from her, and poised it and shook it +till it quivered again, then suddenly drew back his arm and cast, and +the shaft sped whistling down the dim hall, and smote the aforesaid +door-lintel and stuck there quivering: then he sprang down from the +daïs, and ran down the hall, and put forth his hand and pulled +it forth from the wood, and was on the daïs again in a trice, and +cast again, and the second time set the spear in the same place, and +then took his other spear from the board and cast it, and there stood +the two staves in the wood side by side; then he went soberly down the +hall and drew them both out of the wood and came back to her, while +she stood watching him, her cheek flushed, her lips a little parted.</p> +<p>She said: ‘Good spear-casting, forsooth! and far above what +our folk can do, who be no great throwers of the spear.’</p> +<p>Gold-mane laughed: ‘Sooth is that,’ said he, ‘or +hardly were I here to teach thee spear-throwing.’</p> +<p>‘Wilt thou <i>never</i> be paid for that simple onslaught?’ +she said.</p> +<p>‘Have I been paid then?’ said he.</p> +<p>She reddened, for she remembered her word to him on the mountain; +and he put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek, but timorously; +nor did she withstand him or shrink aback, but said soberly:</p> +<p>‘Good indeed is thy spear-throwing, and meseems my brother +will love thee when he hath seen thee strike a stroke or two in wrath. +But, fair warrior, there be no foemen here: so get thee to the lower +end of the Hall, and in the bower beyond shalt thou find fresh water; +there wash the waste from off thee, and do off thine helm and hauberk, +and come back speedily and eat with me; for I hunger, and so dost thou.’</p> +<p>He did as she bade him, and came back presently bearing in his hand +both helm and hauberk, and he looked light-limbed and trim and lissome, +an exceeding goodly man.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX. THE FAIR WOMAN TELLETH FACE-OF-GOD OF HER KINDRED</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>When he came back to the daïs he saw that there was meat upon +the board, and the Friend said to him:</p> +<p>‘Now art thou Gold-mane indeed: but come now, sit by me and +eat, though the Wood-woman giveth thee but a sorry banquet, O guest; +but from the Dale it is, and we be too far now from the dwellings of +men to have delicate meat on the board, though to-night when they come +back thy cheer shall be better. Yet even then thou shalt have +no such dainties as Stone-face hath imagined for thee at the hands of +the Wood-wight.’</p> +<p>She laughed therewith, and he no less; and in sooth the meat was +but simple, of curds and new cheese, meat of the herdsmen. But +Face-of-god said gaily: ‘Sweet it shall be to me; good is all +that the Friend giveth.’</p> +<p>Then she raised her hand and made the sign of the Hammer over the +board, and looked up at him and said:</p> +<p>‘Hath the Earth-god changed my face, Gold-mane, to what I verily +am?’</p> +<p>He held his face close to hers and looked into it, and him-seemed +it was as pure as the waters of a mountain lake, and as fine and well-wrought +every deal of it as when his father had wrought in his stithy many days +and fashioned a small piece of great mastery. He was ashamed to +kiss her again, but he said to himself, ‘This is the fairest woman +of the world, whom I have sworn to wed this year.’ Then +he spake aloud and said:</p> +<p>‘I see the face of the Friend, and it will not change to me.’</p> +<p>Again she reddened a little, and the happy look in her face seemed +to grow yet sweeter, and he was bewildered with longing and delight.</p> +<p>But she stood up and went to an ambrye in the wall and brought forth +a horn shod and lipped with silver of ancient fashion, and she poured +wine into it and held it forth and said:</p> +<p>‘O guest from the Dale, I pledge thee! and when thou hast drunk +to me in turn we will talk of weighty matters. For indeed I bear +hopes in my hands too heavy for the daughters of men to bear; and thou +art a chieftain’s son, and mayst well help me to bear them; so +let us talk simply and without guile, as folk that trust one another.’</p> +<p>So she drank and held out the horn to him, and he took the horn and +her hand both, and he kissed her hand and said:</p> +<p>‘Here in this Hall I drink to the Sons of the Wolf, whosoever +they be.’ Therewith he drank and he said: ‘Simply +and guilelessly indeed will I talk with thee; for I am weary of lies, +and for thy sake have I told a many.’</p> +<p>‘Thou shalt tell no more,’ she said; ‘and as for +the health thou hast drunk, it is good, and shall profit thee. +Now sit we here in these ancient seats and let us talk.’</p> +<p>So they sat them down while the sun was westering in the March afternoon, +and she said:</p> +<p>‘Tell me first what tidings have been in the Dale.’</p> +<p>So he told her of the ransackings and of the murder at Carlstead.</p> +<p>She said: ‘These tidings have we heard before, and some deal +of them we know better than ye do, or can; for we were the ransackers +of Penny-thumb and Harts-bane. Thereof will I say more presently. +What other tidings hast thou to tell of? What oaths were sworn +upon the Boar last Yule?’</p> +<p>So he told her of the oath of Bristler the son of Brightling. +She smiled and said: ‘He shall keep his oath, and yet redden no +blade.’</p> +<p>Then he told of his father’s oath, and she said:</p> +<p>‘It is good; but even so would he do and no oath sworn. +All men may trust Iron-face. And thou, my friend, what oath didst +thou swear?’</p> +<p>His face grew somewhat troubled as he said: ‘I swore to wed +the fairest woman in the world, though the Dalesmen gainsaid me, and +they beyond the Dale.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and there is no need to ask thee +whom thou didst mean by thy “fairest woman,” for I have +seen that thou deemest me fair enough. My friend, maybe thy kindred +will be against it, and the kindred of the Bride; and it might be that +my kindred would have gainsaid it if things were not as they are. +But though all men gainsay it, yet will not I. It is meet and +right that we twain wed.’</p> +<p>She spake very soberly and quietly, but when she had spoken there +was nothing in his heart but joy and gladness: yet shame of her loveliness +refrained him, and he cast down his eyes before hers. Then she +said in a kind voice:</p> +<p>‘I know thee, how glad thou art of this word of mine, because +thou lookest on me with eyes of love, and thinkest of me as better than +I am; though I am no ill woman and no beguiler. But this is not +all that I have to say to thee, though it be much; for there are more +folk in the world than thou and I only. But I told thee this first, +that thou mightest trust me in all things. So, my friend, if thou +canst, refrain thy joy and thy longing a little, and hearken to what +concerneth thee and me, and thy people and mine.’</p> +<p>‘Fair woman and sweet friend,’ he said, ‘thou knowest +of a gladness which is hard to bear if one must lay it aside for a while; +and of a longing which is hard to refrain if it mingle with another +longing - knowest thou not?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘I know it.’</p> +<p>‘Yet,’ said Face-of-god, ‘I will forbear as thou +biddest me. Tell me, then, what were the felons who were slain +at Carlstead? Knowest thou of them?’</p> +<p>‘Over well,’ she said, ‘they are our foes this +many a year; and since we met last autumn they have become foes of you +Dalesmen also. Soon shall ye have tidings of them; and it was +against them that I bade thee arm yesterday.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Is it against them that thou wouldst have +us do battle along with thy folk?’</p> +<p>‘So it is,’ she said; ‘no other foemen have we. +And now, Gold-mane, thou art become a friend of the Wolf, and shalt +before long be of affinity with our House; that other day thou didst +ask me to tell thee of me and mine, and now will I do according to thine +asking. Short shall my tale be; because maybe thou shalt hear +it told again, and in goodly wise, before thine whole folk.</p> +<p>‘As thou wottest we be now outlaws and Wolves’ Heads; +and whiles we lift the gear of men, but ever if we may of ill men and +not of good; there is no worthy goodman of the Dale from whom we would +take one hoof, or a skin of wine, or a cake of wax.</p> +<p>‘Wherefore are we outlaws? Because we have been driven +from our own, and we bore away our lives and our weapons, and little +else; and for our lands, thou seest this Vale in the howling wilderness +and how narrow and poor it is, though it hath been the nurse of warriors +in time past.</p> +<p>‘Hearken! Time long ago came the kindred of the Wolf +to these Mountains of the World; and they were in a pass in the stony +maze and the utter wilderness of the Mountains, and the foe was behind +them in numbers not to be borne up against. And so it befell that +the pass forked, and there were two ways before our Folk; and one part +of them would take the way to the north and the other the way to the +south; and they could not agree which way the whole Folk should take. +So they sundered into two companies, and one took one way and one another. +Now as to those who fared by the southern road, we knew not what befell +them, nor for long and long had we any tale of them.</p> +<p>‘But we who took the northern road, we happened on this Vale +amidst the wilderness, and we were weary of fleeing from the over-mastering +foe; and the dale seemed enough, and a refuge, and a place to dwell +in, and no man was there before us, and few were like to find it, and +we were but a few. So we dwelt here in this Vale for as wild as +it is, the place where the sun shineth never in the winter, and scant +is the summer sunshine therein. Here we raised a Doom-ring and +builded us a Hall, wherein thou now sittest beside me, O friend, and +we dwelt here many seasons.</p> +<p>‘We had a few sheep in the wilderness, and a few neat fed down +the grass of the Vale; and we found gems and copper in the rocks about +us wherewith at whiles to chaffer with the aliens, and fish we drew +from our river the Shivering Flood. Also it is not to be hidden +that in those days we did not spare to lift the goods of men; yea, whiles +would our warriors fare down unto the edges of the Plain and lie in +wait there till the time served, and then drive the spoil from under +the very walls of the Cities. Our men were not little-hearted, +nor did our women lament the death of warriors over-much, for they were +there to bear more warriors to the Folk.</p> +<p>‘But the seasons passed, and the Folk multiplied in Shadowy +Vale, and livelihood seemed like to fail them, and needs must they seek +wider lands. So by ways which thou wilt one day wot of, we came +into a valley that lieth north-west of Shadowy Vale: a land like thine +of Burgdale, or better; wide it was, plenteous of grass and trees, well +watered, full of all things that man can desire.</p> +<p>‘Were there men before us in this Dale? sayest thou. +Yea, but not very many, and they feeble in battle, weak of heart, though +strong of body. These, when they saw the Sons of the Wolf with +weapons in their hands, felt themselves puny before us, and their hearts +failed them; and they came to us with gifts, and offered to share the +Dale between them and us, for they said there was enough for both folks. +So we took their offer and became their friends; and some of our Houses +wedded wives of the strangers, and gave them their women to wife. +Therein they did amiss; for the blended Folk as the generations passed +became softer than our blood, and many were untrusty and greedy and +tyrannous, and the days of the whoredom fell upon us, and when we deemed +ourselves the mightiest then were we the nearest to our fall. +But the House whereof I am would never wed with these Westlanders, and +other Houses there were who had affinity with us who chiefly wedded +with us of the Wolf, and their fathers had come with ours into that +fruitful Dale; and these were called the Red Hand, and the Silver Arm, +and the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged Sword. Thou hast heard those +names once before, friend?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ he said, and as he spoke the picture of that other +day came back to him, and he called to mind all that he had said, and +his happiness of that hour seemed the more and the sweeter for that +memory.</p> +<p>She went on: ‘Fair and goodly is that Dale as mine own eyes +have seen, and plentiful of all things, and up in its mountains to the +east are caves and pits whence silver is digged abundantly; therefore +is the Dale called Silver-dale. Hast thou heard thereof, my friend?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘though I have marvelled +whence ye gat such foison of silver.’</p> +<p>He looked on her and marvelled, for now she seemed as if it were +another woman: her eyes were gleaming bright, her lips were parted; +there was a bright red flush on the pommels of her two cheeks as she +spake again and said:</p> +<p>‘Happy lived the Folk in Silver-dale for many and many winters +and summers: the seasons were good and no lack was there: little sickness +there was and less war, and all seemed better than well. It is +strange that ye Dalesmen have not heard of Silver-dale.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said he, ‘but I have not; of Rose-dale have +I heard, as a land very far away: but no further do we know of toward +that aírt. Lieth Silver-dale anywhere nigh to Rose-dale?’</p> +<p>She said: ‘It is the next dale to it, yet is it a far journey +betwixt the two, for the ice-sea pusheth a horn in betwixt them; and +even below the ice the mountain-neck is passable to none save a bold +crag-climber, and to him only bearing his life in his hands. But, +my friend, I am but lingering over my tale, because it grieveth me sore +to have to tell it. Hearken then! In the days when I had +seen but ten summers, and my brother was a very young man, but exceeding +strong, and as beautiful as thou art now, war fell on us without rumour +or warning; for there swarmed into Silver-dale, though not by the ways +whereby we had entered it, a host of aliens, short of stature, crooked +of limb, foul of aspect, but fierce warriors and armed full well: they +were men having no country to go back to, though they had no women or +children with them, as we had when we were young in these lands, but +used all women whom they took as their beastly lust bade them, making +them their thralls if they slew them not. Soon we found that these +foemen asked no more of us than all we had, and therewithal our lives +to be cast away or used for their service as beasts of burden or pleasure. +There then we gathered our fighting-men and withstood them; and if we +had been all of the kindreds of the Wolf and the fruit of the wives +of warriors, we should have driven back these felons and saved the Dale, +though it maybe more than half ruined: but the most part of us were +of that mingled blood, or of the generations of the Dalesmen whom we +had conquered long ago, and stout as they were of body their hearts +failed them, and they gave themselves up to the aliens to be as their +oxen and asses.</p> +<p>‘Why make a long tale of it? We who were left, and could +brook death but not thraldom, fought it out together, women as well +as men, till the sweetness of life and a happy chance for escape bid +us flee, vanquished but free men. For at the end of three days’ +fight we had been driven up to the easternmost end of the Dale, and +up anigh to the jaws of the pass whereby the Folk had first come into +Silver-dale, and we had those with us who knew every cranny of that +way, while to strangers who knew it not it was utterly impassable; night +was coming on also, and even those murder-carles were weary with slaying; +and, moreover, on this last day, when they saw that they had won all, +they were fighting to keep, and not to slay, and a few stubborn carles +and queens, of what use would they be, or where was the gain of risking +life to win them?</p> +<p>‘So they forbore us, and night came on moonless and dark; and +it was the early spring season, when the days are not yet long, and +so by night and cloud we fled away, and back again to Shadowy Vale.</p> +<p>‘Forsooth, we were but a few; for when we were gotten into +this Vale, this strip of grass and water in the wilderness, and had +told up our company, we were but two hundred and thirty and five of +men and women and children. For there were an hundred and thirty +and three grown men of all ages, and of women grown seventy and five, +and one score and seven children, whereof I was one; for, as thou mayst +deem, it was easier for grown men with weapons in their hands to escape +from that slaughter than for women and children.</p> +<p>‘There sat we in yonder Doom-ring and took counsel, and to +some it seemed good that we should all dwell together in Shadowy Vale, +and beset the skirts of the foemen till the days should better; but +others deemed that there was little avail therein; and there was a mighty +man of the kindred, Stone-wolf by name, a man of middle-age, and he +said, that late in life had he tasted of war, and though the banquet +was made bitter with defeat, yet did the meat seem wholesome to him. +“Come down with me to the Cities of the Plain,” said he, +“all you who are stout warriors; and leave we here the old men +and the swains and the women and children. Hateful are the folk +there, and full of malice, but soft withal and dastardly. Let +us go down thither and make ourselves strong amongst them, and sell +our valour for their wealth till we come to rule them, and they make +us their kings, and we establish the Folk of the Wolf amongst the aliens; +then will we come back hither and bring away that which we have left.”</p> +<p>‘So he spake, and the more part of the warriors yea said his +rede, and they went with him to the Westland, and amongst these was +my brother Folk-might (for that is his name in the kindred). And +I sorrowed at his departure, for he had borne me thither out of the +flames and the clash of swords and the press of battle, and to me had +he ever been kind and loving, albeit he hath had the Words of hard and +froward used on him full oft.</p> +<p>‘So in this Vale abode we that were left, and the seasons passed; +some of the elders died, and some of the children also; but more children +were born, for amongst us were men and women to whom it was lawful to +wed with each other. Even with this scanty remnant was left some +of the life of the kindred of old days; and after we had been here but +a little while, the young men, yea and the old also, and even some of +the women, would steal through passes that we, and we only, knew of, +and would fall upon the Aliens in Silver-dale as occasion served, and +lift their goods both live and dead; and this became both a craft and +a pastime amongst us. Nor may I hide that we sometimes went lifting +otherwhere; for in the summer and autumn we would fare west a little +and abide in the woods the season through, and hunt the deer thereof, +and whiles would we drive the spoil from the scattered folk not far +from your Shepherd-Folk; but with the Shepherds themselves and with +you Dalesmen we meddled not.</p> +<p>‘Now that little wood-lawn with the toft of an ancient dwelling +in it, wherein, saith Bow-may, thou didst once rest, was one of our +summer abodes; and later on we built the hall under the pine-wood that +thou knowest.</p> +<p>‘Thus then grew up our young men; and our maids were little +softer; e’en such as Bow-may is (and kind is she withal), and +it seemed in very sooth as if the Spirit of the Wolf was with us, and +the roughness of the Waste made us fierce; and law we had not and heeded +not, though love was amongst us.’</p> +<p>She stopped awhile and fell a-musing, and her face softened, and +she turned to him with that sweet happy look upon it and said:</p> +<p>‘Desolate and dreary is the Dale, thou deemest, friend; and +yet for me I love it and its dark-green water, and it is to me as if +the Fathers of the kindred visit it and hold converse with us; and there +I grew up when I was little, before I knew what a woman was, and strange +communings had I with the wilderness. Friend, when we are wedded, +and thou art a great chieftain, as thou wilt be, I shall ask of thee +the boon to suffer me to abide here at whiles that I may remember the +days when I was little and the love of the kindred waxed in me.’</p> +<p>‘This is but a little thing to ask,’ said Face-of-god; +‘I would thou hadst asked me more.’</p> +<p>‘Fear not,’ she said, ‘I shall ask thee for much +and many things; and some of them belike thou shalt deny me.’</p> +<p>He shook his head; but she smiled in his face and said:</p> +<p>‘Yea, so it is, friend; but hearken. The seasons passed, +and six years wore, and I was grown a tall slim maiden, fleet of foot +and able to endure toil enough, though I never bore weapons, nor have +done. So on a fair even of midsummer when we were together, the +most of us, round about this Hall and the Doom-ring, we saw a tall man +in bright war-gear come forth into the Dale by the path that thou camest, +and then another and another till there were two score and seven men-at-arms +standing on the grass below the scree yonder; by that time had we gotten +some weapons in our hands, and we stood together to meet the new-comers, +but they drew no sword and notched no shaft, but came towards us laughing +and joyous, and lo! it was my brother Folk-might and his men, those +that were left of them, come back to us from the Westland.</p> +<p>‘Glad indeed was I to behold him; and for him when he had taken +me in his arms and looked up and down the Dale, he cried out: ‘In +many fair places and many rich dwellings have I been; but this is the +hour that I have looked for.’</p> +<p>‘Now when we asked him concerning Stone-wolf and the others +who were missing (for ten tens of stalwarth men had fared to the Westland), +he swept out his hand toward the west and said with a solemn face: “There +they lie, and grass groweth over their bones, and we who have come aback, +and ye who have abided, these are now the children of the Wolf: there +are no more now on the earth.”</p> +<p>‘Let be! It was a fair even and high was the feast in +the Hall that night, and sweet was the converse with our folk come back. +A glad man was my brother Folk-might when he heard that for years past +we had been lifting the gear of men, and chiefly of the Aliens in Silver-dale: +and he himself was become learned in war and a deft leader of men.</p> +<p>‘So the days passed and the seasons, and we lived on as we +might; but with Folk-might’s return there began to grow up in +all our hearts what had long been flourishing in mine, and that was +the hope of one day winning back our own again, and dying amidst the +dear groves of Silver-dale. Within these years we had increased +somewhat in number; for if we had lost those warriors in the Westland, +and some old men who had died in the Dale, yet our children had grown +up (I have now seen twenty and one summers) and more were growing up. +Moreover, after the first year, from the time when we began to fall +upon the Dusky Men of Silver-dale, from time to time they who went on +such adventures set free such thralls of our blood as they could fall +in with and whom they could trust in, and they dwelt (and yet dwell) +with us in the Dale: first and last we have taken in three score and +twelve of such men, and a score of women-thralls withal.</p> +<p>‘Now during these seasons, and not very long ago, after I was +a woman grown, the thought came to me, and to Folk-might also, that +there were kindreds of the people dwelling anear us whom we might so +deal with that they should become our friends and brothers in arms, +and that through them we might win back Silver-dale.</p> +<p>‘Of Rose-dale we wotted already that the Folk were nought of +our blood, feeble in the field, cowed by the Dusky Men, and at last +made thralls to them; so nought was to do there. But Folk-might +went to and fro to gather tidings: at whiles I with him, at whiles one +or more of Wood-father’s children, who with their father and mother +and Bow-may have abided in the Vale ever since the Great Undoing.</p> +<p>‘Soon he fell in with thy Folk, and first of all with the Woodlanders, +and that was a joy to him; for wot ye what? He got to know that +these men were the children of those of our Folk who had sundered from +us in the mountain passes time long and long ago; and he loved them, +for he saw that they were hardy and trusty, and warriors at heart.</p> +<p>‘Then he went amongst the Shepherd-Folk, and he deemed them +good men easily stirred, and deemed that they might soon be won to friendship; +and he knew that they were mostly come from the Houses of the Woodlanders, +so that they also were of the kindred.</p> +<p>‘And last he came into Burgdale, and found there a merry and +happy Folk, little wont to war, but stout-hearted, and nowise puny either +of body or soul; he went there often and learned much about them, and +deemed that they would not be hard to win to fellowship. And he +found that the House of the Face was the chiefest house there; and that +the Alderman and his sons were well beloved of all the folk, and that +they were the men to be won first, since through them should all others +be won. I also went to Burgstead with him twice, as I told thee +erst; and I saw thee, and I deemed that thou wouldest lightly become +our friend; and it came into my mind that I myself might wed thee, and +that the House of the Face thereby might have affinity thenceforth with +the Children of the Wolf.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Why didst thou deem thus of me, O friend?’</p> +<p>She laughed and said: ‘Dost thou long to hear me say the words +when thou knowest my thought well? So be it. I saw thee +both young and fair; and I knew thee to be the son of a noble, worthy, +guileless man and of a beauteous woman of great wits and good rede. +And I found thee to be kind and open-handed and simple like thy father, +and like thy mother wiser than thou thyself knew of thyself; and that +thou wert desirous of deeds and fain of women.’</p> +<p>She was silent for a while, and he also: then he said: ‘Didst +thou draw me to the woods and to thee?’</p> +<p>She reddened and said: ‘I am no spell-wife: but true it is +that Wood-mother made a waxen image of thee, and thrust through the +heart thereof the pin of my girdle-buckle, and stroked it every morning +with an oak-bough over which she had sung spells. But dost thou +not remember, Gold-mane, how that one day last Hay-month, as ye were +resting in the meadows in the cool of the evening, there came to you +a minstrel that played to you on the fiddle, and therewith sang a song +that melted all your hearts, and that this song told of the Wild-wood, +and what was therein of desire and peril and beguiling and death, and +love unto Death itself? Dost thou remember, friend?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ he said, ‘and how when the minstrel was +done Stone-face fell to telling us more tales yet of the woodland, and +the minstrel sang again and yet again, till his tales had entered into +my very heart.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and that minstrel was Wood-wont; +and I sent him to sing to thee and thine, deeming that if thou didst +hearken, thou would’st seek the woodland and happen upon us.’</p> +<p>He laughed and said: ‘Thou didst not doubt but that if we met, +thou mightest do with me as thou wouldest?’</p> +<p>‘So it is,’ she said, ‘that I doubted it little.’</p> +<p>‘Therein wert thou wise,’ said Face-of-god; ‘but +now that we are talking without guile to each other, mightest thou tell +me wherefore it was that Folk-might made that onslaught upon me? +For certain it is that he was minded to slay me.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘It was sooth what I told thee, that whiles he groweth +so battle-eager that whatso edge-tool he beareth must needs come out +of the scabbard; but there was more in it than that, which I could not +tell thee erst. Two days before thy coming he had been down to +Burgstead in the guise of an old carle such as thou sawest him with +me in the market-place. There was he guested in your Hall, and +once more saw thee and the Bride together; and he saw the eyes of love +wherewith she looked on thee (for so much he told me), and deemed that +thou didst take her love but lightly. And he himself looked on +her with such love (and this he told me not) that he deemed nought good +enough for her, and would have had thee give thyself up wholly to her; +for my brother is a generous man, my friend. So when I told him +on the morn of that day whereon we met that we looked to see thee that +eve (for indeed I am somewhat foreseeing), he said: “Look thou, +Sun-beam, if he cometh, it is not unlike that I shall drive a spear +through him.” “Wherefore?” said I; “can +he serve our turn when he is dead?” Said he: “I care +little. Mine own turn will I serve. Thou sayest <i>Wherefore</i>? +I tell thee this stripling beguileth to her torment the fairest woman +that is in the world - such an one as is meet to be the mother of chieftains, +and to stand by warriors in their day of peril. I have seen her; +and thus have I seen her.” Then said I: “Greatly forsooth +shalt thou pleasure her by slaying him!” And he answered: +“I shall pleasure myself. And one day she shall thank me, +when she taketh my hand in hers and we go together to the Bride-bed.” +Therewith came over me a clear foresight of the hours to come, and I +said to him: “Yea, Folk-might, cast the spear and draw the sword; +but him thou shalt not slay: and thou shalt one day see him standing +with us before the shafts of the Dusky Men.” So I spake; +but he looked fiercely at me, and departed and shunned me all that day, +and by good hap I was hard at hand when thou drewest nigh our abode. +Nay, Gold-mane, what would’st thou with thy sword? Why art +thou so red and wrathful? Would’st thou fight with my brother +because he loveth thy friend, thine old playmate, thy kinswoman, and +thinketh pity of her sorrow?’</p> +<p>He said, with knit brow and gleaming eyes: ‘Would the man take +her away from me perforce?’</p> +<p>‘My friend,’ she said, ‘thou art not yet so wise +as not to be a fool at whiles. Is it not so that she herself hath +taken herself from thee, since she hath come to know that thou hast +given thyself to another? Hath she noted nought of thee this winter +and spring? Is she well pleased with the ways of thee?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Thou hast spoken simply with me, and I will do no +less with thee. It was but four days agone that she did me to +wit that she knew of me how I sought my love on the Mountain; and she +put me to sore shame, and afterwards I wept for her sorrow.’</p> +<p>Therewith he told her all that the Bride had said to him, as he well +might, for he had forgotten no word of it.</p> +<p>Then said the Friend: ‘She shall have the token that she craveth, +and it is I that shall give it to her.’</p> +<p>Therewith she took from her finger a ring wherein was set a very +fair changeful mountain-stone, and gave it to him, and said:</p> +<p>‘Thou shalt give her this and tell her whence thou hadst it; +and tell her that I bid her remember that To-morrow is a new day.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XX. THOSE TWO TOGETHER HOLD THE RING OF THE EARTH-GOD</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>And now they fell silent both of them, and sat hearkening the sounds +of the Dale, from the whistle of the plover down by the water-side to +the far-off voices of the children and maidens about the kine in the +lower meadows. At last Gold-mane took up the word and said:</p> +<p>‘Sweet friend, tell me the uttermost of what thou would’st +have of me. Is it not that I should stand by thee and thine in +the Folk-mote of the Dalesmen, and speak for you when ye pray us for +help against your foemen; and then again that I do my best when ye and +we are arrayed for battle against the Dusky Men? This is easy +to do, and great is the reward thou offerest me.’</p> +<p>‘I look for this service of thee,’ she said, ‘and +none other.’</p> +<p>‘And when I go down to the battle,’ said he, ‘shalt +thou be sorry for our sundering?’</p> +<p>She said: ‘There shall be no sundering; I shall wend with thee.’</p> +<p>Said he: ‘And if I were slain in the battle, would’st +thou lament me?’</p> +<p>‘Thou shalt not be slain,’ she said.</p> +<p>Again was there silence betwixt them, till at last he said:</p> +<p>‘This then is why thou didst draw me to thee in the Wild-wood?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said she.</p> +<p>Again for a while no word was spoken, and Face-of-god looked on her +till she cast her eyes down before him.</p> +<p>Then at last he spake, and the colour came and went in his face as +he said: ‘Tell me thy name what it is.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘I am called the Sun-beam.’</p> +<p>Then he said, and his voice trembled therewith: ‘O Sun-beam, +I have been seeking pleasant and cunning words, and can find none such. +But tell me this if thou wilt: dost thou desire me as I desire thee? +or is it that thou wilt suffer me to wed thee and bed thee at last as +mere payment for the help that I shall give to thee and thine? +Nay, doubt it not that I will take the payment, if this is what thou +wilt give me and nought else. Yet tell me.’</p> +<p>Her face grew troubled, and she said:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane, maybe that thou hast now asked me one question +too many; for this is no fair game to be played between us. For +thee, as I deem, there are this day but two people in the world, and +that is thou and I, and the earth is for us two alone. But, my +friend, though I have seen but twenty and one summers, it is nowise +so with me, and to me there are many in the world; and chiefly the Folk +of the Wolf, amidst whose very heart I have grown up. Moreover, +I can think of her whom I have supplanted, the Bride to wit; and I know +her, and how bitter and empty her days shall be for a while, and how +vain all our redes for her shall seem to her. Yea, I know her +sorrow, and see it and grieve for it: so canst not thou, unless thou +verily see her before thee, her face unhappy, and her voice changed +and hard. Well, I will tell thee what thou askest. When +I drew thee to me on the Mountain I thought but of the friendship and +brotherhood to be knitted up between our two Folks, nor did I anywise +desire thy love of a young man. But when I saw thee on the heath +and in the Hall that day, it pleased me to think that a man so fair +and chieftain-like should one day lie by my side; and again when I saw +that the love of me had taken hold of thee, I would not have thee grieved +because of me, but would have thee happy. And now what shall I +say? - I know not; I cannot tell. Yet am I the Friend, as erst +I called myself.</p> +<p>‘And, Gold-mane, I have seen hitherto but the outward show +and image of thee, and though that be goodly, how would it be if thou +didst shame me with little-heartedness and evil deeds? Let me +see thee in the Folk-mote and the battle, and then may I answer thee.’</p> +<p>Then she held her peace, and he answered nothing; and she turned +her face from him and said:</p> +<p>‘Out on it! have I beguiled myself as well as thee? These +are but empty words I have been saying. If thou wilt drag the +truth out of me, this is the very truth: that to-day is happy to me +as it is to thee, and that I have longed sore for its coming. +O Gold-mane, O speech-friend, if thou wert to pray me or command me +that I lie in thine arms to-night, I should know not how to gainsay +thee. Yet I beseech thee to forbear, lest thy death and mine come +of it. And why should we die, O friend, when we are so young, +and the world lies so fair before us, and the happy days are at hand +when the Children of the Wolf and the kindreds of the Dale shall deliver +the Folk, and all days shall be good and all years?’</p> +<p>They had both risen up as she spake, and now he put forth his hands +to her and took her in his arms, wondering the while, as he drew her +to him, how much slenderer and smaller and weaker she seemed in his +embrace than he had thought of her; and when their lips met, he felt +that she kissed him as he her. Then he held her by the shoulders +at arms’ length from him, and beheld her face how her eyes were +closed and her lips quivering. But before him, in a moment of +time, passed a picture of the life to be in the fair Dale, and all she +would give him there, and the days good and lovely from morn to eve +and eve to morn; and though in that moment it was hard for him to speak, +at last he spoke in a voice hoarse at first, and said:</p> +<p>‘Thou sayest sooth, O friend; we will not die, but live; I +will not drag our deaths upon us both, nor put a sword in the hands +of Folk-might, who loves me not.’</p> +<p>Then he kissed her on the brow and said: ‘Now shalt thou take +me by the hand and lead me forth from the Hall. For the day is +waxing old, and here meseemeth in this dim hall there are words crossing +in the air about us - words spoken in days long ago, and tales of old +time, that keep egging me on to do my will and die, because that is +all that the world hath for a valiant man; and to such words I would +not hearken, for in this hour I have no will to die, nor can I think +of death.’</p> +<p>She took his hand and led him forth without more words, and they +went hand in hand and paced slowly round the Doom-ring, the light air +breathing upon them till their faces were as calm and quiet as their +wont was, and hers especially as bright and happy as when he had first +seen her that day.</p> +<p>The sun was sinking now, and only sent one golden ray into the valley +through a cleft in the western rock-wall, but the sky overhead was bright +and clear; from the meadows came the sound of the lowing of kine and +the voices of children a-sporting, and it seemed to Gold-mane that they +were drawing nigher, both the children and the kine, and somewhat he +begrudged it that he should not be alone with the Friend.</p> +<p>Now when they had made half the circuit of the Doom-ring, the Sun-beam +stopped him, and then led him through the Ring of Stones, and brought +him up to the altar which was amidst of it; and the altar was a great +black stone hewn smooth and clean, and with the image of the Wolf carven +on the front thereof; and on its face lay the gold ring which the priest +or captain of the Folk bore on his arm between the God and the people +at all folk-motes.</p> +<p>So she said: ‘This is the altar of the God of Earth, and often +hath it been reddened by mighty men; and thereon lieth the Ring of the +Sons of the Wolf; and now it were well that we swore troth on that ring +before my brother cometh; for now will he soon be here.’</p> +<p>Then Gold-mane took the Ring and thrust his right hand through it, +and took her right hand in his; so that the Ring lay on both their hands, +and therewith he spake aloud:</p> +<p>‘I am Face-of-god of the House of the Face, and I do thee to +wit, O God of the Earth, that I pledge my troth to this woman, the Sun-beam +of the Kindred of the Wolf, to beget my offspring on her, and to live +with her, and to die with her: so help me, thou God of the Earth, and +the Warrior and the God of the Face!’</p> +<p>Then spake the Sun-beam: ‘I, the Sun-beam of the Children of +the Wolf, pledge my troth to Face-of-god to lie in his bed and to bear +his children and none other’s, and to be his speech-friend till +I die: so help me the Wolf and the Warrior and the God of the Earth!’</p> +<p>Then they laid the Ring on the altar again, and they kissed each +other long and sweetly, and then turned away from the altar and departed +from the Doom-ring, going hand in hand together down the meadow, and +as they went, the noise of the kine and the children grew nearer and +nearer, and presently came the whole company of them round a ness of +the rock-wall; there were some thirty little lads and lasses driving +on the milch-kine, with half a score of older maids and grown women, +one of whom was Bow-may, who was lightly and scantily clad, as one who +heeds not the weather, or deems all months midsummer.</p> +<p>The children came running up merrily when they saw the Sun-beam, +but stopped short shyly when they noted the tall fair stranger with +her. They were all strong and sturdy children, and some very fair, +but brown with the weather, if not with the sun. Bow-may came +up to Gold-mane and took his hand and greeted him kindly and said:</p> +<p>‘So here thou art at last in Shadowy Vale; and I hope that +thou art content therewith, and as happy as I would wish thee to be. +Well, this is the first time; and when thou comest the second time it +may well be that the world shall be growing better.’</p> +<p>She held the distaff which she bore in her hand (for she had been +spinning) as if it were a spear; her limbs were goodly and shapely, +and she trod the thick grass of the Vale with a kind of wary firmness, +as though foemen might be lurking nearby. The Sun-beam smiled +upon her kindly and said:</p> +<p>‘That shall not fail to be, Bow-may: ye have won a new friend +to-day. But tell me, when dost thou look to see the men here, +for I was down by the water when they went away yesterday?’</p> +<p>‘They shall come into the Dale a little after sunset,’ +said Bow-may.</p> +<p>‘Shall I abide them, my friend?’ said Gold-mane, turning +to the Sun-beam.</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said; ‘for what else art thou come hither? +or art thou so pressed to depart from us? Last time we met thou +wert not so hasty to sunder.’</p> +<p>They smiled on each other; and Bow-may looked on them and laughed +outright; then a flush showed in her cheeks through the tan of them, +and she turned toward the children and the other women who were busied +about the milking of the kine.</p> +<p>But those two sat down together on a bank amidst the plain meadow, +facing the river and the eastern rock-wall, and the Sun-beam said:</p> +<p>‘I am fain to speak to thee and to see thine eyes watching +me while I speak; and now, my friend, I will tell thee something unasked +which has to do with what e’en now thou didst ask me; for I would +have thee trust me wholly, and know me for what I am. Time was +I schemed and planned for this day of betrothal; but now I tell thee +it has become no longer needful for bringing to pass our fellowship +in arms with thy people. Yea yesterday, ere he went on a hunt, +whereof he shall tell thee, Folk-might was against it, in words at least; +and yet as one who would have it done if he might have no part in it. +So, in good sooth, this hand that lieth in thine is the hand of a wilful +woman, who desireth a man, and would keep him for her speech-friend. +Now art thou fond and happy; yet bear in mind that there are deeds to +be done, and the troth we have just plighted must be paid for. +So hearken, I bid thee. Dost thou care to know why the wheedling +of thee is no longer needful to us?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘A little while ago I should have said, Yea, If thy +lips say the words. But now, O friend, it seemeth as if thine +heart were already become a part of mine, and I feel as if the chieftain +were growing up in me and the longing for deeds: so I say, Tell me, +for I were fain to hear what toucheth the welfare of thy Folk and their +fellowship with my Folk; for on that also have I set my heart?’</p> +<p>She said gravely and with solemn eyes:</p> +<p>‘What thou sayest is good: full glad am I that I have not plighted +my troth to a mere goodly lad, but rather to a chieftain and a warrior. +Now then hearken! Since I saw thee first in the autumn this hath +happened, that the Dusky Men, increasing both in numbers and insolence, +have it in their hearts to win more than Silver-dale, and it is years +since they have fallen upon Rose-dale and conquered it, rather by murder +than by battle, and made all men thralls there, for feeble were the +Folk thereof; and doubt it not but that they will look into Burgdale +before long. They are already abroad in the woods, and were it +not for the fear of the Wolf they would be thicker therein, and faring +wider; for we have slain many of them, coming upon them unawares; and +they know not where we dwell, nor who we be: so they fear to spread +about over-much and pry into unknown places lest the Wolf howl on them. +Yet beware! for they will gather in numbers that we may not meet, and +then will they swarm into the Dale; and if ye would live your happy +life that ye love so well, ye must now fight for it; and in that battle +must ye needs join yourselves to us, that we may help each other. +Herein have ye nought to choose, for now with you it is no longer a +thing to talk of whether ye will help certain strangers and guests and +thereby win some gain to yourselves, but whether ye have the hearts +to fight for yourselves, and the wits to be the fellows of tall men +and stout warriors who have pledged their lives to win or die for it.’</p> +<p>She was silent a little and then turned and looked fondly on Face-of-god +and said:</p> +<p>‘Therefore, Gold-mane, we need thee no longer; for thou must +needs fight in our battle. I have no longer aught to do to wheedle +thee to love me. Yet if thou wilt love me, then am I a glad woman.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Thou wottest well that thou hast all my love, neither +will I fail thee in the battle. I am not little-hearted, though +I would have given myself to thee for no reward.’</p> +<p>‘It is well,’ said the Sun-beam; ‘nought is undone +by that which I have done. Moreover, it is good that we have plighted +troth to-day. For Folk-might will presently hear thereof, and +he must needs abide the thing which is done. Hearken! he cometh.’</p> +<p>For as she spoke there came a glad cry from the women and children, +and those two stood up and turned toward the west and beheld the warriors +of the Wolf coming down into the Dale by the way that Gold-mane had +come.</p> +<p>‘Come,’ said the Sun-beam, ‘here are your brethren +in arms, let us go greet them; they will rejoice in thee.’</p> +<p>So they went thither, and there stood eighty and seven men on the +grass below the scree and Folk-might their captain; and besides some +valiant women, and a few carles who were on watch on the waste, and +a half score who had been left in the Dale, these were all the warriors +of the Wolf. They were clad in no holiday raiment, not even Folk-might, +but were in sheep-brown gear of the coarsest, like to husbandmen late +come from the plough, but armed well and goodly.</p> +<p>But when the twain drew near, the men clashed their spears on their +shields, and cried out for joy of them, for they all knew what Face-of-god’s +presence there betokened of fellowship with the kindreds; but Folk-might +came forward and took Face-of-god’s hand and greeted him and said:</p> +<p>‘Hail, son of the Alderman! Here hast thou come into +the ancient abode of chieftains and warriors, and belike deeds await +thee also.’</p> +<p>Yet his brow was knitted as he said these words, and he spake slowly, +as one that constraineth himself; but presently his face cleared somewhat +and he said:</p> +<p>‘Dalesman, it behoveth thy people to bestir them if ye would +live and see good days. Hath my sister told thee what is toward? +Or what sayest thou?’</p> +<p>‘Hail to thee, son of the Wolf!’ said Face-of-god. +‘Thy sister hath told me all; and even if these Dusky Felons were +not our foe-men also, yet could I have my way, we should have given +thee all help, and should have brought back peace and good days to thy +folk.’</p> +<p>Then Folk-might flushed red and spake, as he cast out his hand towards +the warriors and up and down toward the Dale:</p> +<p>‘These be my folk, and these only: and as to peace, only those +of us know of it who are old men. Yet is it well; and if we and +ye together be strong enough to bring back good days to the feeble men +whom the Dusky Ones torment in Silver-dale it shall be better yet.’</p> +<p>Then he turned about to his sister, and looked keenly into her eyes +till she reddened, and took her hand and looked at the wrist and said:</p> +<p>‘O sister, see I not the mark on thy wrist of the Ring of the +God of the Earth? Have not oaths been sworn since yesterday?’</p> +<p>‘True it is,’ she said, ‘that this man and I have +plighted troth together at the altar of the Doom-ring.’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘Thou wilt have thy will, and I may not amend +it.’ Therewith he turned about to Face-of-god and said:</p> +<p>‘Thou must look to it to keep this oath, whatever other one +thou hast failed in.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god somewhat wrathfully: ‘I shall keep it, whether +thou biddest me to keep it or break it.’</p> +<p>‘That is well,’ said Folk-might, ‘and then for +all that hath gone before thou mayest in a manner pay, if thou art dauntless +before the foe.’</p> +<p>‘I look to be no blencher in the battle,’ said Face-of-god; +‘that is not the fashion of our kindred, whosoever may be before +us. Yea, and even were it thy blade, O mighty warrior of the Wolf, +I would do my best to meet it in manly fashion.’</p> +<p>As he spake he half drew forth Dale-warden from his sheath, looking +steadily into the eyes of Folk-might; and the Sun-beam looked upon him +happily. But Folk-might laughed and said:</p> +<p>‘Thy sword is good, and I deem that thine heart will not fail +thee; but it is by my side and not in face of me that thou shalt redden +the good blade: I see not the day when we twain shall hew at each other.’</p> +<p>Then in a while he spake again:</p> +<p>‘Thou must pardon us if our words are rough; for we have stood +in rough places, where we had to speak both short and loud, whereas +there was much to do. But now will we twain talk of matters that +concern chieftains who are going on a hard adventure. And ye women, +do ye dight the Hall for the evening feast, which shall be the feast +of the troth-plight for you twain. This indeed we owe thee, O +guest; for little shall be thine heritage which thou shalt have with +my sister, over and above that thy sword winneth for thee.’</p> +<p>But the Sun-beam said: ‘Hast thou any to-night?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ he said; ‘Spear-god, how many was it?’</p> +<p>There came forward a tall man bearing an axe in his right hand, and +carrying over his shoulder by his left hand a bundle of silver arm-rings +just such as Gold-mane had seen on the felons who were slain by Wood-grey’s +house. The carle cast them on the ground and then knelt down and +fell to telling them over; and then looked up and said: ‘Twelve +yesterday in the wood where the battle was going on; and this morning +seven by the tarn in the pine-wood and six near this eastern edge of +the wood: one score and five all told. But, Folk-might, they are +coming nigh to Shadowy Vale.’</p> +<p>‘Sooth is that,’ said Folk-might; ‘but it shall +be looked to. Come now apart with me, Face-of-god.’</p> +<p>So the others went their ways toward the Hall, while Folk-might led +the Burgdaler to a sheltered nook under the sheer rocks, and there they +sat down to talk, and Folk-might asked Gold-mane closely of the muster +of the Dalesmen and the Shepherds and the Woodland Caries, and he was +well pleased when Face-of-god told him of how many could march to a +stricken field, and of their archery, and of their weapons and their +goodness.</p> +<p>All this took some time in the telling, and now night was coming +on apace, and Folk-might said:</p> +<p>‘Now will it be time to go to the Hall; but keep in thy mind +that these Dusky Men will overrun you unless ye deal with them betimes. +These are of the kind that ye must cast fear into their hearts by falling +on them; for if ye abide till they fall upon you, they are like the +winter wolves that swarm on and on, how many soever ye slay. And +this above all things shall help you, that we shall bring you whereas +ye shall fall on them unawares and destroy them as boys do with a wasp’s +nest. Yet shall many a mother’s son bite the dust.</p> +<p>‘Is it not so that in four weeks’ time is your spring-feast +and market at Burgstead, and thereafter the great Folk-mote?’</p> +<p>‘So it is,’ said Gold-mane.</p> +<p>‘Thither shall I come then,’ said Folk-might, ‘and +give myself out for the slayer of Rusty and the ransacker of Harts-bane +and Penny-thumb; and therefor shall I offer good blood-wite and theft-wite; +and thy father shall take that; for he is a just man. Then shall +I tell my tale. Yet it may be thou shalt see us before if battle +betide. And now fair befall this new year; for soon shall the +scabbards be empty and the white swords be dancing in the air, and spears +and axes shall be the growth of this spring-tide.’</p> +<p>And he leaped up from his seat and walked to and fro before Gold-mane, +and now was it grown quite dark. Then Folk-might turned to Face-of-god +and said:</p> +<p>‘Come, guest, the windows of the Hall are yellow; let us to +the feast. To-morrow shalt thou get thee to the beginning of this +work. I hope of thee that thou art a good sword; else have I done +a folly and my sister a worse one. But now forget that, and feast.’</p> +<p>Gold-mane arose, not very well at ease, for the man seemed overbearing; +yet how might he fall upon the Sun-beam’s kindred, and the captain +of these new brethren in arms? So he spake not. But Folk-might +said to him:</p> +<p>‘Yet I would not have thee forget that I was wroth with thee +when I saw thee to-day; and had it not been for the coming battle I +had drawn sword upon thee.’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god’s wrath was stirred, and he said:</p> +<p>‘There is yet time for that! but why art thou wroth with me? +And I shall tell thee that there is little manliness in thy chiding. +For how may I fight with thee, thou the brother of my plighted speech-friend +and my captain in this battle?’</p> +<p>‘Therein thou sayest sooth,’ said Folk-might; ‘but +hard it was to see you two standing together; and thou canst not give +the Bride to me as I give my sister to thee. For I have seen her, +and I have seen her looking at thee; and I know that she will not have +it so.’</p> +<p>Then they went on together toward the Hall, and Face-of-god was silent +and somewhat troubled; and as they drew near to the Hall, Folk-might +spake again:</p> +<p>‘Yet time may amend it; and if not, there is the battle, and +maybe the end. Now be we merry!’</p> +<p>So they went into the Hall together, and there was the Sun-beam gloriously +arrayed, as erst in the woodland bower, and Face-of-god sat on the daïs +beside her, and the uttermost sweetness of desire entered into his soul +as he noted her eyes and her mouth, that were grown so kind to him, +and her hand that strayed toward his.</p> +<p>The Hall was full of folk, and all those warriors were there with +Wood-father and his sons, and Wood-mother, and Bow-may and many other +women; and Gold-mane looked down the Hall and deemed that he had never +seen such stalwarth bodies of men, or so bold and meet for battle: as +for the women he had seen fairer in Burgdale, but these were fair of +their own fashion, shapely and well-knit, and strong-armed and large-limbed, +yet sweet-voiced and gentle withal. Nay, the very lads of fifteen +winters or so, whereof a few were there, seemed bold and bright-eyed +and keen of wit, and it seemed like that if the warriors fared afield +these would be with them.</p> +<p>So wore the feast; and Folk-might as aforetime amongst the healths +called on men to drink to the Jaws of the Wolf, and the Red Hand, and +the Silver Arm, and the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged Sword. But +now had Face-of-god no need to ask what these meant, since he knew that +they were the names of the kindreds of the Wolf. They drank also +to the troth-plight and to those twain, and shouted aloud over the health +and clashed their weapons: and Gold-mane wondered what echo of that +shout would reach to Burgstead.</p> +<p>Then sang men songs of old time, and amongst them Wood-wont stood +with his fiddle amidst the Hall and Bow-may beside him, and they sang +in turn to it sweetly and clearly; and this is some of what they sang:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>She singeth.</i></p> +<p>Wild is the waste and long leagues over;<br /> Whither +then wend ye spear and sword,<br />Where nought shall see your helms +but the plover,<br /> Far and far from the dear Dale’s +sward?</p> +<p><i>He singeth.</i></p> +<p>Many a league shall we wend together<br /> With +helm and spear and bended bow.<br />Hark! how the wind blows up for +weather:<br /> Dark shall the night be whither we go.</p> +<p>Dark shall the night be round the byre,<br /> And +dark as we drive the brindled kine;<br />Dark and dark round the beacon-fire,<br /> Dark +down in the pass round our wavering line.</p> +<p>Turn on thy path, O fair-foot maiden,<br /> And +come our ways by the pathless road;<br />Look how the clouds hang low +and laden<br /> Over the walls of the old abode!</p> +<p><i>She singeth.</i></p> +<p>Bare are my feet for the rough waste’s wending,<br /> Wild +is the wind, and my kirtle’s thin;<br />Faint shall I be ere the +long way’s ending<br /> Drops down to the Dale +and the grief therein.</p> +<p><i>He singeth.</i></p> +<p>Do on the brogues of the wild-wood rover,<br /> Do +on the byrnies’ ring-close mail;<br />Take thou the staff that +the barbs hang over,<br /> O’er the wind and +the waste and the way to prevail.</p> +<p>Come, for how from thee shall I sunder?<br /> Come, +that a tale may arise in the land;<br />Come, that the night may be +held for a wonder,<br /> When the Wolf was led by a +maiden’s hand!</p> +<p><i>She singeth.</i></p> +<p>Now will I fare as ye are faring,<br /> And wend +no way but the way ye wend;<br />And bear but the burdens ye are bearing,<br /> And +end the day as ye shall end.</p> +<p>And many an eve when the clouds are drifting<br /> Down +through the Dale till they dim the roof,<br />Shall they tell in the +Hall of the Maiden’s Lifting,<br /> And how we +drave the spoil aloof.</p> +<p><i>They sing together.</i></p> +<p>Over the moss through the wind and the weather,<br /> Through +the morn and the eve and the death of the day,<br />Wend we man and +maid together,<br /> For out of the waste is born the +fray.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Then the Sun-beam spake to Gold-mane softly, and told him how this +song was made by a minstrel concerning a foray in the early days of +their first abode in Shadowy Vale, and how in good sooth a maiden led +the fray and was the captain of the warriors:</p> +<p>‘Erst,’ she said, ‘this was counted as a wonder; +but now we are so few that it is no wonder though the women will do +whatsoever they may.’</p> +<p>So they talked, and Gold-mane was very happy; but ere the good-night +cup was drunk, Folk-might spake to Face-of-god and said:</p> +<p>‘It were well that ye rose betimes in the morning: but thou +shalt not go back by the way thou camest. Wood-wise and another +shall go with thee, and show thee a way across the necks and the heaths, +which is rough enough as far as toil goes, but where thy life shall +be safer; and thereby shalt thou hit the ghyll of the Weltering Water, +and so come down safely into Burgdale. Now that we are friends +and fellows, it is no hurt for thee to know the shortest way to Shadowy +Vale. What thou shalt tell concerning us in Burgdale I leave the +tale thereof to thee; yet belike thou wilt not tell everything till +I come to Burgstead at the spring market-tide. Now must I presently +to bed; for before daylight to-morrow must I be following the hunt along +with two score good men of ours.’</p> +<p>‘What beast is afield then?’ said Gold-mane.</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘The beasts that beset our lives, the Dusky +Men. In these days we have learned how to find companies of them; +and forsooth every week they draw nigher to this Dale; and some day +they should happen upon us if we were not to look to it, and then would +there be a murder great and grim; therefore we scour the heaths round +about, and the skirts of the woodland, and we fall upon these felons +in divers guises, so that they may not know us for the same men; whiles +are we clad in homespun, as to-day, and seem like to field-working carles; +whiles in scarlet and gold, like knights of the Westland; whiles in +wolf-skins; whiles in white glittering gear, like the Wights of the +Waste: and in all guises these felons, for all their fierce hearts, +fear us, and flee from us, and we follow and slay them, and so minish +their numbers somewhat against the great day of battle.’</p> +<p>‘Tell me,’ said Gold-mane; ‘when we fall upon Silver-dale +shall their thralls, the old Dale-dwellers, fight for them or for us?’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘The Dusky Men will not dare to put weapons +into the hands of their thralls. Nay, the thralls shall help us; +for though they have but small stomach for the fight, yet joyfully when +the fight is over shall they cut their masters’ throats.’</p> +<p>‘How is it with these thralls?’ said Gold-mane. +‘I have never seen a thrall.’</p> +<p>‘But I,’ said Folk-might, ‘have seen a many down +in the Cities. And there were thralls who were the tyrants of +thralls, and held the whip over them; and of the others there were some +who were not very hardly entreated. But with these it is otherwise, +and they all bear grievous pains daily; for the Dusky Men are as hogs +in a garden of lilies. Whatsoever is fair there have they defiled +and deflowered, and they wallow in our fair halls as swine strayed from +the dunghill. No delight in life, no sweet days do they have for +themselves, and they begrudge the delight of others therein. Therefore +their thralls know no rest or solace; their reward of toil is many stripes, +and the healing of their stripes grievous toil. To many have they +appointed to dig and mine in the silver-yielding cliffs, and of all +the tasks is that the sorest, and there do stripes abound the most. +Such thralls art thou happy not to behold till thou hast set them free; +as we shall do.’</p> +<p>‘Tell me again,’ said Face-of-god; ‘Is there no +mixed folk between these Dusky Men and the Dalesmen, since they have +no women of their own, but lie with the women of the Dale? Moreover, +do not the poor folk of the Dale beget and bear children, so that there +are thralls born of thralls?’</p> +<p>‘Wisely thou askest this,’ said Folk-might, ‘but +thereof shall I tell thee, that when a Dusky Carle mingles with a woman +of the Dale, the child which she beareth shall oftenest favour his race +and not hers; or else shall it be witless, a fool natural. But +as for the children of these poor thralls; yea, the masters cause them +to breed if so their masterships will, and when the children are born, +they keep them or slay them as they will, as they would with whelps +or calves. To be short, year by year these vile wretches grow +fiercer and more beastly, and their thralls more hapless and down-trodden; +and now at last is come the time either to do or to die, as ye men of +Burgdale shall speedily find out. But now must I go sleep if I +am to be where I look to be at sunrise to-morrow.’</p> +<p>Therewith he called for the sleeping-cup, and it was drunk, and all +men fared to bed. But the Sun-beam took Gold-mane’s hand +ere they parted, and said:</p> +<p>‘I shall arise betimes on the morrow; so I say not farewell +to-night; yea, and after to-morrow it shall not be long ere we meet +again.’</p> +<p>So Gold-mane lay down in that ancient hall, and it seemed to him +ere he slept as if his own kindred were slipping away from him and he +were becoming a child of the Wolf. ‘And yet,’ said +he to himself, ‘I am become a man; for my Friend, now she no longer +telleth me to do or forbear, and I tremble. Nay, rather she is +fain to take the word from me; and this great warrior and ripe man, +he talketh with me as if I were a chieftain meet for converse with chieftains. +Even so it is and shall be.’</p> +<p>And soon thereafter he fell asleep in the Hall in Shadowy Vale.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI. FACE-OF-GOD LOOKETH ON THE DUSKY MEN</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>When he awoke again he saw a man standing over him, and knew him +for Wood-wise: he was clad in his war-gear, and had his quiver at his +back and his bow in his hand, for Wood-father’s children were +all good bowmen, though not so sure as Bow-may. He spake to Face-of-god:</p> +<p>‘Dawn is in the sky, Dalesman; there is yet time for thee to +wash the night off of thee in our bath of the Shivering Flood and to +put thy mouth to the milk-bowl; but time for nought else: for I and +Bow-may are appointed thy fellows for the road, and it were well that +we were back home speedily.’</p> +<p>So Face-of-god leapt up and went forth from the Hall, and Wood-wise +led to where was a pool in the river with steps cut down to it in the +rocky bank.</p> +<p>‘This,’ said Wood-wise, ‘is the Carle’s Bath; +but the Queen’s is lower down, where the water is wider and shallower +below the little mid-dale force.’</p> +<p>So Gold-mane stripped off his raiment and leapt into the ice-cold +pool; and they had brought his weapons and war-gear with them; so when +he came out he clad and armed himself for the road, and then turned +with Wood-wise toward the outgate of the Dale; and soon they saw two +men coming from lower down the water in such wise that they would presently +cross their path, and as yet it was little more than twilight, so that +they saw not at first who they were, but as they drew nearer they knew +them for the Sun-beam and Bow-may. The Sun-beam was clad but in +her white linen smock and blue gown as he had first seen her, her hair +was wet and dripping with the river, her face fresh and rosy: she carried +in her two hands a great bowl of milk, and stepped delicately, lest +she should spill it. But Bow-may was clad in her war-gear with +helm and byrny, and a quiver at her back, and a bended bow in her hand. +So they greeted each other kindly, and the Sun-beam gave the bowl to +Face-of-god and said:</p> +<p>‘Drink, guest, for thou hast a long and thirsty road before +thee.’</p> +<p>So Face-of-god drank, and gave her the bowl back again, and she smiled +on him and drank, and the others after her till the bowl was empty: +then Bow-may put her hand on Wood-wise’s shoulder, and they led +on toward the outgate, while those twain followed them hand in hand. +But the Sun-beam said:</p> +<p>‘This then is the new day I spoke of, and lo! it bringeth our +sundering with it; yet shall it be no longer than a day when all is +said, and new days shall follow after. And now, my friend, I shall +see thee no later than the April market; for doubt not that I shall +go thither with Folk-might, whether he will or not. Also as I +led thee out of the house when we last met, so shall I lead thee out +of the Dale to-day, and I will go with thee a little way on the waste; +and therefore am I shod this morning, as thou seest, for the ways on +the waste are rough. And now I bid thee have courage while my +hand holdeth thine. For afterwards I need not bid thee anything; +for thou wilt have enough to do when thou comest to thy Folk, and must +needs think more of warriors then than of maidens.’</p> +<p>He looked at her and longed for her, but said soberly: ‘Thou +art kind, O friend, and thinkest kindly of me ever. But methinks +it were not well done for thee to wend with me over a deal of the waste, +and come back by thyself alone, when ye have so many foemen nearby.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘they be nought so near as that +yet, and I wot that Folk-might hath gone forth toward the north-west, +where he looketh to fall in with a company of the foemen. His +battle shall be a guard unto us.’</p> +<p>‘I pray thee turn back at the top of the outgate,’ said +he, ‘and be not venturesome. Thou wottest that the pitcher +is not broken the first time it goeth to the well, nor maybe the twentieth, +but at last it cometh not back.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Nevertheless I shall have my will herein. +And it is but a little way I will wend with thee.’</p> +<p>Therewith were they come to the scree, and talk fell down between +them as they clomb it; but when they were in the darksome passage of +the rocks, and could scarce see one another, Face-of-god said:</p> +<p>‘Where then is another outgate from the Dale? Is it not +up the water?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and there is none other: at the +lower end the rocks rise sheer from out the water, and a little further +down is a great force thundering betwixt them; so that by no boat or +raft may ye come out of the Dale. But the outgate up the water +is called the Road of War, as this is named the Path of Peace. +But now are all ways ways of war.’</p> +<p>‘There is peace in my heart,’ said Gold-mane.</p> +<p>She answered not for a while, but pressed his hand, and he felt her +breath on his cheek; and even therewithal they came out of the dark, +and Gold-mane saw that her cheek was flushed; and now she spake:</p> +<p>‘One thing would I say to thee, my friend. Thou hast +seen me amongst men of war, amongst outlaws who seek violence; thou +hast heard me bid my brother to count the slain, and I shrinking not; +thou knowest (for I have told thee) how I have schemed and schemed for +victorious battle. Yet I would not have thee think of me as a +Chooser of the Slain, a warrior maiden, or as of one who hath no joy +save in the battle whereto she biddeth others. O friend, the many +peaceful hours that I have had on the grass down yonder, sitting with +my rock and spindle in hand, the children round about my knees hearkening +to some old story so well remembered by me! or the milking of the kine +in the dewy summer even, when all was still but for the voice of the +water and the cries of the happy children, and there round about me +were the dear and beauteous maidens with whom I had grown up, happy +amidst all our troubles, since their life was free and they knew no +guile. In such times my heart was at peace indeed, and it seemed +to me as if we had won all we needed; as if war and turmoil were over, +after they had brought about peace and good days for our little folk.</p> +<p>‘And as for the days that be, are they not as that rugged pass, +full of bitter winds and the voice of hurrying waters, that leadeth +yonder to Silver-dale, as thou hast divined? and there is nought good +in it save that the breath of life is therein, and that it leadeth to +pleasant places and the peace and plenty of the fair dale.’</p> +<p>‘Sweet friend,’ he said, ‘what thou sayest is better +than well: for time shall be, if we come alive out of this pass of battle +and bitter strife, when I shall lead thee into Burgdale to dwell there. +And thou wottest of our people that there is little strife and grudging +amongst them, and that they are merry, and fair to look on, both men +and women; and no man there lacketh what the earth may give us, and +it is a saying amongst us that there may a man have that which he desireth +save the sun and moon in his hands to play with: and of this gladness, +which is made up of many little matters, what story may be told? +Yet amongst it shall I live and thou with me; and ill indeed it were +if it wearied thee and thou wert ever longing for some day of victorious +strife, and to behold me coming back from battle high-raised on the +shields of men and crowned with bay; if thine ears must ever be tickled +with the talk of men and their songs concerning my warrior deeds. +For thus it shall not be. When I drive the herds it shall be at +the neighbours’ bidding whereso they will; not necks of men shall +I smite, but the stalks of the tall wheat, and the boles of the timber-trees +which the woodreeve hath marked for felling; the stilts of the plough +rather than the hilts of the sword shall harden my hands; my shafts +shall be for the deer, and my spears for the wood-boar, till war and +sorrow fall upon us, and I fight for the ceasing of war and trouble. +And though I be called a chief and of the blood of chiefs, yet shall +I not be masterful to the goodman of the Dale, but rather to my hound; +for my chieftainship shall be that I shall be well beloved and trusted, +and that no man shall grudge against me. Canst thou learn to love +such a life, which to me seemeth lovely? And thou? of whom I say +that thou art as if thou wert come down from the golden chairs of the +Burg of the Gods.’</p> +<p>They were well-nigh out of the steep path by now, and the daylight +was bright about them; there she stayed her feet a moment and turned +to him and said:</p> +<p>‘All this should I love even now, if the grief of our Folk +were but healed, and hereafter shall I learn yet more of thy well-beloved +face.’</p> +<p>Therewith she laid her face to his and kissed him fondly, and put +his hand to her side and held it there, saying: ‘Soon shall we +be one in body and in soul.’</p> +<p>And he laughed with joy and pride of life, and took her hand and +led her on again, and said:</p> +<p>‘Yet feel the cold rings of my hauberk, my friend; look at +the spears that cumber my hand, and at Dale-warden hanging by my side. +Thou shalt yet see me as the Slain’s Chooser would see her speech-friend; +for there is much to do ere we win wheat-harvest in Burgdale.’</p> +<p>Therewith they stepped together on to the level ground of the waste, +and saw Bow-may sitting on a stone hard by, and Wood-wise standing beside +her bending his bow. Bow-may smiled on Gold-mane and rose up, +and they all went on together, turning so that they went nearly alongside +the wall of the Vale, but westering a little; then the Sun-beam said:</p> +<p>‘Many a time have I trodden this heath alongside our rock-wall; +for if ye wend a little further as our faces are turned, ye come to +the crags over the place where the Shivering Flood goeth out of Shadowy +Vale. There when ye have clomb a little may’st thou stand +on the edge of the rock-wall, and look down and behold the Flood swirling +and eddying in the black gorge of the rocks, and see presently the reek +of the force go up, and hear the thunder of the waters as they pour +over it: and all this about us now is as the garden of our house - is +it not so, Bow-may?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said she, ‘and there are goodly cluster-berries +to be gotten hereabout in the autumn; many a time have the Sun-beam +and I reddened our lips with them. Yet is it best to be wary when +war is abroad and hot withal.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said the Sun-beam, ‘and all this place comes +into the story of our House: lo! Gold-mane, two score paces before +us a little on our right hand those five grey stones. They are +called the Rocks of the Elders: for there in the first days of our abiding +in Shadowy Vale the Elders were wont to come together to talk privily +upon our matters.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god looked thither as she spoke, but therewith saw Bow-may, +who went on the left hand of the Sun-beam, as Face-of-god on her right +hand, notch a shaft on her bent bow, and Wood-wise, who was on his right +hand, saw it also and did the like, and therewithal Face-of-god got +his target on to his arm, and even as he did so Bow-may cried out suddenly:</p> +<p>‘Yea, yea! Cast thyself on to the ground, Sun-beam! +Gold-mane, targe and spear, targe and spear! For I see steel gleaming +yonder out from behind the Elders’ Rocks.’</p> +<p>Scarce were the words out of her mouth ere three shafts came flying, +and the bow-strings twanged. Gold-mane felt that one smote his +helm and glanced from it. Therewithal he saw the Sun-beam fall +to earth, though he knew not if she had but cast herself down as Bow-may +bade. Bow-may’s string twanged at once, and a yell came +from the foemen: but Wood-wise loosed not, but set his hand to his mouth +and gave a loud wild cry - Ha! ha! ha! ha! How-ow-ow! - ending +in a long and exceeding great whoop like nought but the wolf’s +howl. Now Gold-mane thinking swiftly, in a moment of time, as +war-meet men do, judged that if the Sun-beam were hurt (and she had +made no cry), it were yet wiser to fall on the foe before turning to +tend her, or else all might be lost; so he rushed forward spear in hand +and target on arm, and saw, as he opened up the flank of the Elders’ +Rocks, six men, whereof one leaned aback on the rock with Bow-may’s +shaft in his shoulder, and two others were just in act of loosing at +him. In a moment, as he rushed at them, one shaft went whistling +by him, and the other glanced from off his target; he cast a spear as +he bounded on, and saw it smite one of the shooters full in the naked +face, and saw the blood spout out and change his face and the man roll +over, and then in another moment four men were hewing at him with their +short steel axes. He thrust out his target against them, and then +let the weight of his body come on his other spear, and drave it through +the second shooter’s throat, and even therewith was smitten on +the helm so hard that, though the Alderman’s work held out, he +fell to his knees, holding his target over his head and striving to +draw forth Dale-warden; in that nick of time a shaft whistled close +by his ear, and as he rose to his feet again he saw his foeman rolling +over and over, clutching at the ling with both hands. Then rang +out again the terrible wolf-whoop from Wood-wise’s mouth, and +both he and Bow-may loosed a shaft, for the two other foes had turned +their backs and were fleeing fast. Again Bow-may hit the clout, +and the Dusky Man fell dead at once, but Wood-wise’s arrow flew +over the felon’s shoulder as he ran. Then in a trice was +Gold-mane bounding after him like the hare just roused from her form; +for it came into his head that these felons had beheld them coming up +out of the Vale, and that if even this one man escaped, he would bring +his company down upon the Vale-dwellers.</p> +<p>Strong and light-foot as any was Face-of-god, and though he was cumbered +with his hauberk, yet was Iron-face’s handiwork far lighter than +the war-coat of the Dusky Man, and the race was soon over. The +felon turned breathless to meet Gold-mane, who drave his target against +him and cast him to earth, and as he strove to rise smote off his head +at one stroke; for Dale-warden was a good sword and the Dalesman as +fierce of mood as might be. There he let the felon lie, and, turning, +walked back swiftly toward the Elders’ Rocks, and found there +Wood-wise and the dead foemen, for the carle had slain the wounded, +and he was now drawing the silver arm-rings off the slain men; for all +these Dusky Felons bore silver arm-rings. But Bow-may was walking +towards the Sun-beam, and thitherward followed Gold-mane speedily.</p> +<p>He found her sitting on a tussock of grass close by where she had +fallen, her face pale, her eyes eager and gleaming; she looked up at +him as he drew nigher and said:</p> +<p>‘Friend, art thou hurt?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ he said, ‘and thou? Thou art pale.’</p> +<p>‘I am not hurt,’ she said. Then she smiled and +said again:</p> +<p>‘Did I not tell thee that I am no warrior like Bow-may here? +Such deeds make maidens pale.’</p> +<p>Said Bow-may: ‘If ye will have the truth, Gold-mane, she is +not wont to grow pale when battle is nigh her. Look you, she hath +had the gift of a new delight, and findeth it sweeter and softer than +she had any thought of; and now hath she feared lest it should be taken +from her.’</p> +<p>‘Bow-may saith but the sooth,’ said the Sun-beam simply, +‘and kind it is of her to say it. I saw thee, Bow-may, and +good was thy shooting, and I love thee for it.’</p> +<p>Said Bow-may: ‘I never shoot otherwise than well. But +those idle shooters of the Dusky Ones, whereabouts nigh to thee went +their shafts?’</p> +<p>Said the Sun-beam: ‘One just lifted the hair by my left ear, +and that was not so ill-aimed; as for the other, it pierced my raiment +by my right knee, and pinned me to the earth, so that I tottered and +fell, and my gown and smock are grievously wounded, both of them.’</p> +<p>And she took the folds of the garments in her hands to show the rents +therein; and her colour was come again, and she was glad.</p> +<p>‘What were best to do now?’ she said.</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Let us tarry a little; for some of thy carles +shall surely come up from the Vale: because they will have heard Wood-wise’s +whoop, since the wind sets that way.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, they will come,’ said the Sun-beam.</p> +<p>‘Good is that,’ said Face-of-god; ‘for they shall +take the dead felons and cast them where they be not seen if perchance +any more stray hereby. For if they wind them, they may well happen +on the path down to the Vale. Also, my friend, it were well if +thou wert to bid a good few of the carles that are in the Vale to keep +watch and ward about here, lest there be more foemen wandering about +the waste.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Thou art wise in war, Gold-mane; I will do as thou +biddest me. But soothly this is a perilous thing that the Dusky +Men are gotten so close to the Vale.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘This will Folk-might look to when he cometh +home; and it is most like that he will deem it good to fall on them +somewhere a good way aloof, so as to draw them off from wandering over +the waste. Also I will do my best to busy them when I am home +in Burgdale.’</p> +<p>Therewith came up Wood-wise, and fell to talk with them; and his +mind it was that these foemen were but a band of strayers, and had had +no inkling of Shadowy Vale till they had heard them talking together +as they came up the path from the Vale, and that then they had made +that ambush behind the Elders’ Rocks, so that they might slay +the men, and then bear off the woman. He said withal that it would +be best to carry their corpses further on, so that they might be cast +over the cliffs into the fierce stream of the Shivering Flood.</p> +<p>Amidst this talk came up men from the Vale, a score of them, well +armed; and they ran to meet the wayfarers; and when they heard what +had befallen, they rejoiced exceedingly, and were above all glad that +Face-of-god had shown himself doughty and deft; and they deemed his +rede wise, to set a watch thereabouts till Folk-might came home, and +said that they would do even so.</p> +<p>Then spake the Sun-beam and said:</p> +<p>‘Now must ye wayfarers depart; for the road is but rough, and +the day not over-long.’</p> +<p>Then she turned to Face-of-god and put her hand on his shoulder, +and brought her face close to his and spake to him softly:</p> +<p>‘Doth this second parting seem at all strange to thee, and +that I am now so familiar to thee, I whom thou didst once deem to be +a very goddess? And now thou hast seen me redden before thine +eyes because of thee; and thou hast seen me grow pale with fear because +of thee; and thou hast felt my caresses which I might not refrain; even +as if I were altogether such a maiden as ye warriors hang about for +a nine days’ wonder, and then all is over save an aching heart +- wilt thou do so with me? Tell me, have I not belittled myself +before thee as if I asked thee to scorn me? For thus desire dealeth +both with maid and man.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘In all this there is but one thing for me to say, +and that is that I love thee; and surely none the less, but rather the +more, because thou lovest me, and art of my kind, and mayest share in +my deeds and think well of them. Now is my heart full of joy, +and one thing only weigheth on it; and that is that my kinswoman the +Bride begrudgeth our love together. For this is the thing that +of all things most misliketh me, that any should bear a grudge against +me.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Forget not the token, and my message to her.’</p> +<p>‘I will not forget it,’ said he. ‘And now +I bid thee to kiss me even before all these that are looking on; for +there is nought to belittle us therein, since we be troth-plight.’</p> +<p>And indeed those folk stood all round about them gazing on them, +but a little aloof, that they might not hear their words if they were +minded to talk privily. For they had long loved the Sun-beam, +and now the love of Face-of-god had begun to spring up in their hearts.</p> +<p>So the twain embraced and kissed one another, and made no haste thereover; +and those men deemed that but meet and right, and clashed their weapons +on their shields in token of their joy.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god turned about and strode out of the ring of men, +with Bow-may and Wood-wise beside him, and they went on their journey +over the necks towards Burgstead. But the Sun-beam turned slowly +from that place toward the Vale, and two of the stoutest carles went +along with her to guard her from harm, and she went down into the Vale +pondering all these things in her heart.</p> +<p>Then the other carles dragged off the corpses of the Dusky Men till +they had brought them to the sheer rocks above the Shivering Flood, +and there they tossed them over into the boiling caldron of the force, +and so departed taking with them the silver arm-rings of the slain to +add to the tale.</p> +<p>But when they came back into the Vale the Sun-beam duly ordered that +watch and ward to keep the ingate thereto, and note all that should +befall till Folk-might came home.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII. FACE-OF-GOD COMETH HOME TO BURGSTEAD</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>But Face-of-god with Bow-may and Wood-wise fared over the waste, +going at first alongside the cliffs of the Shivering Flood, and then +afterwards turning somewhat to the west. They soon had to climb +a very high and steep bent going up to a mountain-neck; and the way +over the neck was rough indeed when they were on it, and they toiled +out of it into a barren valley, and out of the valley again on to a +rough neck; and such-like their journey the day long, for they were +going athwart all those great dykes that went from the ice-mountains +toward the lower dales like the outspread fingers of a hand or the roots +of a great tree. And the ice-mountains they had on their left +hands and whiles at their backs.</p> +<p>They went very warily, with their bows bended and spear in hand, +but saw no man, good or bad, and but few living things. At noon +they rested in a valley where was a stream, but no grass, nought but +stones and sand; but where they were at least sheltered from the wind, +which was mostly very great in these high wastes; and there Bow-may +drew meat and wine from a wallet she bore, and they ate and drank, and +were merry enough; and Bow-may said:</p> +<p>‘I would I were going all the way with thee, Gold-mane; for +I long sore to let my eyes rest a while on the land where I shall one +day live.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, ‘art thou minded to dwell +there? We shall be glad of that.’</p> +<p>‘Whither are thy wits straying?’ said she; ‘whether +I am minded to it or not, I shall dwell there.’</p> +<p>And Wood-wise nodded a yea to her. But Face-of-god said:</p> +<p>‘Good will be thy dwelling; but wherefore must it be so?’</p> +<p>Then Wood-wise laughed and said: ‘I shall tell thee in fewer +words than she will, and time presses now: Wood-father and Wood-mother, +and I and my two brethren and this woman have ever been about and anigh +the Sun-beam; and we deem that war and other troubles have made us of +closer kin to her than we were born, whether ye call it brotherhood +or what not, and never shall we sunder from her in life or in death. +So when thou goest to Burgdale with her, there shall we be.’</p> +<p>Then was Face-of-god glad when he found that they deemed his wedding +so settled and sure; but Wood-wise fell to making ready for the road. +And Face-of-god said to him:</p> +<p>‘Tell me one thing, Wood-wise; that whoop that thou gavest +forth when we were at handy-strokes e’en now - is it but a cry +of thine own or is it of thy Folk, and shall I hear it again?’</p> +<p>‘Thou may’st look to hear it many a time,’ said +Wood-wise, ‘for it is the cry of the Wolf. Seldom indeed +hath battle been joined where men of our blood are, but that cry is +given forth. Come now, to the road!’</p> +<p>So they went their ways and the road worsened upon them, and toilsome +was the climbing up steep bents and the scaling of doubtful paths in +the cliff-sides, so that the journey, though the distance of it were +not so long to the fowl flying, was much eked out for them, and it was +not till near nightfall that they came on the ghyll of the Weltering +Water some six miles above Burgstead. Forsooth Wood-wise said +that the way might be made less toilsome though far longer by turning +back eastward a little past the vale where they had rested at midday; +and that seemed good to Gold-mane, in case they should be wending hereafter +in a great company between Burgdale and Shadowy Vale.</p> +<p>But now those two went with Face-of-god down a path in the side of +the cliff whereby him-seemed he had gone before; and they came down +into the ghyll and sat down together on a stone by the water-side, and +Face-of-god spake to them kindly, for he deemed them good and trusty +faring-fellows.</p> +<p>‘Bow-may,’ said he, ‘thou saidst a while ago that +thou wouldst be fain to look on Burgdale; and indeed it is fair and +lovely, and ye may soon be in it if ye will. Ye shall both be +more than welcome to the house of my father, and heartily I bid you +thither. For night is on us, and the way back is long and toilsome +and beset with peril. Sister Bow-may, thou wottest that it would +be a sore grief to me if thou camest to any harm, and thou also, fellow +Wood-wise. Daylight is a good faring-fellow over the waste.’</p> +<p>Said Bow-may: ‘Thou art kind, Gold-mane, and that is thy wont, +I know; and fain were I to-night of the candles in thine hall. +But we may not tarry; for thou wottest how busy we be at home; and Sun-beam +needeth me, if it were only to make her sure that no Dusky Man is bearing +off thine head by its lovely locks. Neither shall we journey in +the mirk night; for look you, the moon yonder.’</p> +<p>‘Well,’ said Face-of-god, ‘parting is ill at the +best, and I would I could give you twain a gift, and especially to thee, +my sister Bow-may.’</p> +<p>Said Wood-wise: ‘Thou may’st well do that; or at least +promise the gift; and that is all one as if we held it in our hands.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Bow-may, ‘Wood-wise and I have been +thinking in one way belike; and I was at point to ask a gift of thee.’</p> +<p>‘What is it?’ said Gold-mane. ‘Surely it +is thine, if it were but a guerdon for thy good shooting.’</p> +<p>She laughed and handled the skirts of his hauberk as she said:</p> +<p>‘Show us the dint in thine helm that the steel axe made this +morning.’</p> +<p>‘There is no such great dint,’ said he; ‘my father +forged that helm, and his work is better than good.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Bow-may, ‘and might I have hauberk +and helm of his handiwork, and Wood-wise a good sword of the same, then +were I a glad woman, and this man a happy carle.’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘I am well pleased at thine asking, and so +shall Iron-face be when he heareth of thine archery; and how that Hall-face +were now his only son but for thy close shooting. But now must +I to the way; for my heart tells me that there may have been tidings +in Burgstead this while I have been aloof.’</p> +<p>So they rose all three, and Bow-may said:</p> +<p>‘Thou art a kind brother, and soon shall we meet again; and +that will be well.’</p> +<p>Then he put his hands on her shoulders and kissed both her cheeks; +and he kissed Wood-wise, and turned and went his ways, threading the +stony tangle about the Weltering Water, which was now at middle height, +and running clear and strong; so turning once he beheld Wood-wise and +Bow-may climbing the path up the side of the ghyll, and Bow-may turned +to him also and waved her bow as token of farewell. Then he went +upon his way, which was rough enough to follow by night, though the +moon was shining brightly high aloft. Yet as he knew his road +he made but little of it all, and in somewhat more than an hour and +a half was come out of the pass into the broken ground at the head of +the Dale, and began to make his way speedily under the bright moonlight +toward the Gate, still going close by the water. But as he went +he heard of a sudden cries and rumour not far from him, unwonted in +that place, where none dwelt, and where the only folk he might look +to see were those who cast an angle into the pools and eddies of the +Water. Moreover, he saw about the place whence came the cries +torches moving swiftly hither and thither; so that he looked to hear +of new tidings, and stayed his feet and looked keenly about him on every +side; and just then, between his rough path and the shimmer of the dancing +moonlit water, he saw the moon smite on something gleaming; so, as quietly +as he could, he got his target on his arm, and shortened his spear in +his right hand, and then turned sharply toward that gleam. Even +therewith up sprang a man on his right hand, and then another in front +of him just betwixt him and the water; an axe gleamed bright in the +moon, and he caught a great stroke on his target, and therewith drave +his left shoulder straight forward, so that the man before him fell +over into the water with a mighty splash; for they were at the very +edge of the deepest eddy of the Water. Then he spun round on his +heel, heeding not that another stroke had fallen on his right shoulder, +yet ill-aimed, and not with the full edge, so that it ran down his byrny +and rent it not. So he sent the thrust of his spear crashing through +the face and skull of the smiter, and looked not to him as he fell, +but stood still, brandishing his spear and crying out, ‘For the +Burg and the Face! For the Burg and the Face!’</p> +<p>No other foe came against him, but like to the echo of his cry rose +a clear shout not far aloof, ‘For the Face, for the Face! +For the Burg and the Face!’ He muttered, ‘So ends +the day as it begun,’ and shouted loud again, ‘For the Burg +and the Face!’ And in a minute more came breaking forth +from the stone-heaps into the moonlit space before the water the tall +shapes of the men of Burgstead, the red torchlight and the moonlight +flashing back from their war-gear and weapons; for every man had his +sword or spear in hand.</p> +<p>Hall-face was the first of them, and he threw his arms about his +brother and said: ‘Well met, Gold-mane, though thou comest amongst +us like Stone-fist of the Mountain. Art thou hurt? With +whom hast thou dealt? Where be they? Whence comest thou?’</p> +<p>‘Nay, I am not hurt,’ said Face-of-god. ‘Stint +thy questions then, till thou hast told me whom thou seekest with spear +and sword and candle.’</p> +<p>‘Two felons were they,’ said Hall-face, ‘even such +as ye saw lying dead at Wood-grey’s the other day.’</p> +<p>‘Then may ye sheathe your swords and go home,’ said Gold-mane, +‘for one lieth at the bottom of the eddy, and the other, thy feet +are well-nigh treading on him, Hall-face.’</p> +<p>Then arose a rumour of praise and victory, and they brought the torches +nigh and looked at the fallen man, and found that he was stark dead; +so they even let him lie there till the morrow, and all turned about +toward the Thorp; and many looked on Face-of-god and wondered concerning +him, whence he was and what had befallen him. Indeed, they would +have asked him thereof, but could not get at him to ask; but whoso could, +went as nigh to Hall-face and him as they might, to hearken to the talk +between the brothers.</p> +<p>So as they went along Hall-face did verily ask him whence he came: +‘For was it not so,’ said he, ‘that thou didst enter +into the wood seeking some adventure early in the morning the day before +yesterday?’</p> +<p>‘Sooth is that,’ said Face-of-god, ‘and I came +to Shadowy Vale, and thence am I come this morning.’</p> +<p>Said Hall-face: ‘I know not Shadowy Vale, nor doth any of us. +This is a new word. How say ye, friends, doth any man here know +of Shadowy Vale?’</p> +<p>They all said, ‘Nay.’</p> +<p>Then said Hall-face: ‘Hast thou been amongst mere ghosts and +marvels, brother, or cometh this tale of thy minstrelsy?’</p> +<p>‘For all your words,’ said Gold-mane, ‘to that +Vale have I been; and, to speak shortly (for I desire to have your tale, +and am waiting for it), I will tell thee that I found there no marvels +or strange wights, but a folk of valiant men; a folk small in numbers, +but great of heart; a folk come, as we be, from the Fathers and the +Gods. And this, moreover, is to be said of them, that they are +the foes of these felons of whom ye were chasing these twain. +And these same Dusky Men of Silver-dale would slay them every man if +they might; and if we look not to it they will soon be doing the same +by us; for they are many, and as venomous as adders, as fierce as bears, +and as foul as swine. But these valiant men, who bear on their +banner the image of the Wolf, should be our fellows in arms, and they +have good will thereto; and they shall show us the way to Silver-dale +by blind paths, so that we may fall upon these felons while they dwell +there tormenting the poor people of the land, and thus may we destroy +them as lads a hornet’s nest. Or else the days shall be +hard for us.’</p> +<p>The men who hung about them drank in his words greedily. But +Hall-face was silent a little while, and then he said: ‘Brother +Gold-mane, these be great tidings. Time was when we might have +deemed them but a minstrel’s tale; for Silver-dale we know not, +of which thou speakest so glibly, nor the Dusky Men, any more than the +Shadowy Vale. Howbeit, things have befallen these two last days +so strange and new, that putting them together with the murder at Wood-grey’s, +and thy words which seem somewhat wild, it may well seem to us that +tidings unlooked for are coming our way.’</p> +<p>‘Come, then,’ said Face-of-god, ‘give me what thou +hast in thy scrip, and trust me, I shall not jeer at thy tale.’</p> +<p>Said Hall-face: ‘I also will be short with the tale; and that +the more, as meseemeth it is not yet done, and that thou thyself shalt +share in the ending of it. It was the day before yesterday, that +is the day when thou departedst into the woods on that adventure whereof +thou shalt one day tell me more, wilt thou not?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, in good time,’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘Well,’ quoth Hall-face, ‘we went into the woods +that day and in the morning, but after sunrise, to the number of a score: +we looked to meet a bear and a she-bear with cubs in a certain place; +for one of the Woodlanders, a keen hunter, had told us of their lair. +Also we were wishful to slay some of the wild-swine, the yearlings, +if we might. Therefore, though we had no helms or shields or coats +of fence, we had bowshot a plenty, and good store of casting-weapons, +besides our wood-knives and an axe or so; and some of us, of whom I +was one, bore our battle-swords, as we are wont ever to do, be the foe +beast or man.</p> +<p>‘Thus armed we went up Wildlake’s Way and came to Carlstead, +where half-a-score Woodlanders joined themselves to us, so that we became +a band. We went up the half-cleared places past Carlstead for +a mile, and then turned east into the wood, and went I know not how +far, for the Woodlanders led us by crooked paths, but two hours wore +away in our going, till we came to the place where they looked to find +the bears. It is a place that may well be noted, for it is unlike +the wood round about. There is a close thicket some two furlongs +about of thorn and briar and ill-grown ash and oak and other trees, +planted by the birds belike; and it stands as it were in an island amidst +of a wide-spreading woodlawn of fine turf, set about in the most goodly +fashion with great tall straight-boled oak-trees, that seem to have +been planted of set purpose by man’s hand. Yea, dost thou +know the place?’</p> +<p>‘Methinks I do,’ said Gold-mane, ‘and I seem to +have heard the Woodlanders give it a name and call it Boars-bait.’</p> +<p>‘That may be,’ said Hall-face. ‘Well, there +we were, the dogs and the men, and we drew nigh the thicket and beset +it, and doubted not to find prey therein: but when we would set the +dogs at the thicket to enter it, they were uneasy, and would not take +up the slot, but growled and turned about this way and that, so that +we deemed that they winded some fierce beast at our flanks or backs.</p> +<p>‘Even so it was, and fierce enough and deadly was the beast; +for suddenly we heard bow-strings twang, and shafts came flying; and +Iron-shield of the Upper Dale, who was close beside me, leapt up into +the air and fell down dead with an arrow through his back. Then +I bethought me in the twinkling of an eye, and I cried out, “The +foe are on us! take the cover of the tree-boles and be wary! For +the Burg and the Face! For the Burg and the Face!”</p> +<p>‘So we scattered and covered ourselves with the oak-boles, +but besides Iron-shield, who was slain outright, two goodmen were sorely +hurt, to wit Bald-face, a man of our house, and Stonyford of the Lower +Dale.</p> +<p>‘I looked from behind my tree-bole, a great one; and far off +down the glades I saw men moving, clad in gay raiment; but nearer to +me, not a hundred yards from my cover, I saw an arm clad in scarlet +come out from behind a tree-bole, so I loosed at it, and missed not; +for straight there tottered out from behind the tree one of those dusky +foul-favoured men like to those that were slain by Wood-grey. +I had another shaft ready notched, so I loosed and set the shaft in +his throat, and he fell.</p> +<p>‘Straightway was a yelling and howling about us like the cries +of scalded curs, and the oak-wood swarmed thick with these felons rushing +on us; for it seems that the man whom I had slain was a chief amongst +them, or we judged so by his goodly raiment.</p> +<p>‘Methought then our last day was come. What could we +do but run together again after we had loosed at a venture, and so withstand +them sword and spear in hand? Some fell beneath our shot, but +not many, for they came on very swiftly.</p> +<p>‘So they fell on us; but for all their fierceness and their +numbers they might not break our array, and we slew four and hurt many +by sword-hewing and spear-casting and push of spear; and five of us +were hurt and one slain by their dart-casting. So they drew off +from us a little, and strove to spread out and fall to shooting at us +again; but this we would not suffer, but pushed on as they fell back, +keeping as close together as we might for the trees. For we said +that we would all die together if needs must; and verily the stour was +hard.</p> +<p>‘Yet hearken! In that nick of time rose up a strange +cry not far from us, Ha! ha! ha! ha! How-ow-ow! ending like the +howl of a wolf, and then another and another and another, till the whole +wood rang again.</p> +<p>‘At first we deemed that here were come fresh foemen, and that +we were undone indeed; but when they heard it, the foe-men before us +faltered and gave way, and at last turned their backs and fled, and +we followed, keeping well together still: thereby the more part of these +men escaped us, for they fled wildly here and there from those who bore +that cry with them; so we knew that our work was being done for us; +therefore we stood, and saw tall men clad in sheep-brown weed running +through the glades pursuing those felons and smiting them down, till +both fleers and pursuers passed out of our sight like men in a dream, +or as when ye roll up a pictured cloth to lay it in the coffer.</p> +<p>‘But to Stone-face’s mind those brown-clad men were the +Wights of the Wood that be of the Fathers’ blood, and our very +friends; and when some of us would yet have gone forward and foregathered +with them, and followed the chase along with them, Stone-face gainsaid +it, bidding us not to run into the arms of a second death, when we had +but just escaped from the first. Sooth to say, moreover, we had +divers hurt men that needed looking to.</p> +<p>‘So what with one thing, what with another, we turned back: +but War-cliff’s brother, a tall man, had felled two of those felons +with an oak sapling which he had torn from the thicket; but he had not +slain them, and by now they were just awakening from their swoon, and +were sitting up looking round them with fierce rolling eyes, expecting +the stroke, for Raven of Longscree was standing over them with a naked +war-sword in his hand. But now that our blood was cool, we were +loth to slay them as they lay in our hands; so we bound them and brought +them away with us; and our own dead we carried also on such biers as +we might lightly make there, and with them three that were so grievously +hurt that they might not go afoot, these we left at Carlstead: they +were Tardy the Son of the Untamed, and Swan of Bull-meadow, both of +the Lower Dale, and a Woodlander, Undoomed to wit. But the dead +were Iron-shield aforesaid, and Wool-sark, and the Hewer, a Woodlander.</p> +<p>‘So came we sadly at eventide to Burgstead with the two dead +Burgdalers, and the captive felons, and the wounded of us that might +go afoot; and ye may judge that they of Burgdale and our father deemed +these tidings great enough, and wotted not what next should befall. +Stone-face would have had those two felons slain there and then; for +no true tale could we get out of them, nor indeed any word at all. +But the Alderman would not have it so; and he deemed they might serve +our turn as hostages if any of our folk should be taken: for one and +all we deemed, and still deem, that war is on us and that new folk have +gathered on our skirts.</p> +<p>‘So the captives were shut up in the red out-bower of our house; +and our father was minded that thou mightest tell us somewhat of them +when thou wert come home. But about dusk to-day the word went +that they had broken out and gotten them weapons and fled up the Dale; +and so it was.</p> +<p>‘But to-morrow morning will a Gate-thing be holden, and there +it will be looked for of thee that thou tell us a true tale of thy goings. +For it is deemed, and it is my deeming especially, that thou may’st +tell us more of these men than thou hast yet told us. Is it not +so?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, surely,’ said Gold-mane, ‘I can make as many +words as ye will about it; yet when all is said, it will come to much +the same tale as I have already told thee. Yet belike, if ye are +minded to take up the sword to defend you, I may tell you in what wise +to lay hold on the hilts.’</p> +<p>‘And that is well,’ said Hall-face, ‘and no less +do I look for of thee. But lo! here are we come to the Gate of +the Burg that abideth battle.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII. TALK IN THE HALL OF THE HOUSE OF THE FACE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>In sooth they were come to the very Gate of Burgstead, and the great +gates were shut, and only a wicket was open, and a half score of stout +men in all their war-gear were holding ward thereby. They gave +place to Hall-face and his company, albeit some of the warders followed +them through the wicket that they might hear the story told.</p> +<p>The street was full of folk, both men and women, talking together +eagerly concerning all these tidings, and when they saw the men of the +Hue-and-cry they came thronging about them, so that they might scarce +get to the door of the House of the Face because of the press; so Hall-face +(who was a very tall man) cried out:</p> +<p>‘Good people, all is well! the runaways are slain, and Face-of-god +is come back with us; give place a little, that we may come into our +house.’</p> +<p>Then the throng set up a shout, and made way a little, so that Hall-face +and Gold-mane and the others could get to the door. And they entered +into the Hall, and saw much folk therein; and men were sitting at table, +for supper was not yet over. But when they saw the new-comers +they mostly rose up from the board and stood silent to hear the tale, +for they had been talking many together each to each, so that the Hall +was full of confused noise.</p> +<p>So Hall-face again cried out: ‘Men in this hall, good is the +tidings. The runaways are slain; and it was Face-of-god who slew +them as he came back safe from the waste.’</p> +<p>Then they shouted for joy, and the brethren and Stone-face with them +(for he had entered with them from the street) went up on to the daïs, +while the others of the Hue-and-cry gat them seats where they might +at the endlong tables.</p> +<p>But when Face-of-god came up on to the daïs, there sat Iron-face +looking down on the thronged Hall with a ruddy cheerful countenance, +and beside him sat the Bride; for he had caused her to be brought thither +when he had heard of the tidings of battle. She was daintily clad +in a flame-coloured kirtle embroidered with gold about the bosom and +sleeves, and there was a fillet of golden roses on her ruddy hair. +Her eyes shone bright and eager, and the pommels of her cheeks were +flushed and red contrary to their wont. Needs must Gold-mane sit +by her, and when he came close to her he knew not what to do, but he +put forth his hand to her, yet with a troubled countenance; for he feared +her grief mingled with her beauty: as for her, she wavered in her mind +whether she should forbear to touch him or not; but she saw that men +about were looking at them, and especially was Iron-face looking on +her: therefore she stood up and took Gold-mane’s hand and kissed +his face as she had been wont to do, and by then was her face as white +as paper; and her anguish pierced his heart, so that he well-nigh groaned +for grief of her. But Iron-face looked on her and said kindly:</p> +<p>‘Kinswoman, thou art pale; thou hast feared for thy mate amidst +all these tidings of war, and still fearest for him. But pluck +up a heart; for the man is a deft warrior for all his fair face, which +thou lovest as a woman should, and his hands may yet save his head. +And if he be slain, yet are there other men of the kindred, and the +earth will not be a desert to thee even then.’</p> +<p>She looked at Iron-face, and the colour was come back to her face +somewhat, and she said:</p> +<p>‘It is true; I have feared for him; for he goeth into perilous +places. But for thee, thou art kind, and I thank thee for it.’</p> +<p>And therewith she kissed Iron-face and sat down in her place, and +strove to overmaster her grief, that her face might not be changed by +it; for now were thoughts of battle, and valiant hopes arising in men’s +hearts; and it seemed to her too grievous if she should mar that feast +on the eve of battle.</p> +<p>But Iron-face kissed and embraced his son and said: ‘Art thou +late come from the waste? Hast thou seen new things? We +look to have a notable tale from thee; though here also have been tidings, +and it is not unlike that we shall presently have new work on our hands.’</p> +<p>‘Father,’ quoth Face-of-god, ‘I deem that when +thou hast heard my tale thou wilt think no less of it than that there +are valiant folk to be holpen, poor folk to be delivered, and evil folk +to be swept from off the face of the earth.’</p> +<p>‘It is well, son,’ said Iron-face. ‘I see +that thy tale is long; let it alone for to-night. To-morrow shall +we hold a Gate-thing, and then shall we hear all that thou hast to tell. +Now eat thy meat and drink a bowl of wine, and comfort thy troth-plight +maiden.’</p> +<p>So Gold-mane sat down by the Bride, and ate and drank as he needs +must; but he was ill at ease and he durst not speak to her. For, +on the one hand, he thought concerning his love for the Sun-beam, and +how sweet and good a thing it was that she should take him by the hand +and lead him into noble deeds and great fame, caressing him so softly +and sweetly the while; and, on the other hand, there sat the Bride beside +him, sorrowful and angry, begrudging all that sweetness of love, as +though it were something foul and unseemly; and heavy on him lay the +weight of that grudge, for he was a man of a friendly heart.</p> +<p>Stone-face sat outward from him on the other side of the Bride; and +he leaned across her towards Gold-mane and said:</p> +<p>‘Fair shall be thy tale to-morrow, if thou tellest us all thine +adventure. Or wilt thou tell us less than all?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘In good time shalt thou know it all, foster-father; +but it is not unlike that by the time that thou hast heard it, there +shall be so many other things to tell of, that my tale shall seem of +little account to thee - even as the saw saith that one nail driveth +out the other.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Stone-face, ‘but one tale belike shall +be knit up with the others, as it fareth with the figures that come +one after other on the weaver’s cloth; though one maketh not the +other, yet one cometh of the other.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Wise art thou now, foster-father, but thou +shalt be wiser yet in this matter by then a month hath worn: and to-morrow +shalt thou know enough to set thine hands a-work.’</p> +<p>So the talk fell between them; and the night wore, and the men of +Burgdale feasted in their ancient hall with merry hearts, little weighed +down by thought of the battle that might be and the trouble to come; +for they were valorous and kindly folk.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV. FACE-OF-GOD GIVETH THAT TOKEN TO THE BRIDE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Now on the morrow, when Face-of-god arose and other men with him, +and the Hall was astir and there was no little throng therein, the Bride +came up to him; for she had slept in the House of the Face by the bidding +of the Alderman; and she spake to him before all men, and bade him come +forth with her into the garden, because she would speak to him apart. +He yeasaid her, though with a heavy heart; and to the folk about that +seemed meet and due, since those twain were deemed to be troth-plight, +and they smiled kindly on them as they went out of the Hall together.</p> +<p>So they came into the garden, where the pear-trees were blossoming +over the spring lilies, and the cherries were showering their flowers +on the deep green grass, and everything smelled sweetly on the warm +windless spring morning.</p> +<p>She led the way, going before him till they came by a smooth grass +path between the berry bushes, to a square space of grass about which +were barberry trees, their first tender leaves bright green in the sun +against the dry yellowish twigs. There was a sundial amidmost +of the grass, and betwixt the garden-boughs one could see the long grey +roof of the ancient hall; and sweet familiar sounds of the nesting birds +and men and women going on their errands were all about in the scented +air. She turned about at the sundial and faced Face-of-god, her +hand lightly laid on the scored brass, and spake with no anger in her +voice:</p> +<p>‘I ask thee if thou hast brought me the token whereon thou +shalt swear to give me that gift.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said he; and therewith drew the ring from his +bosom, and held it out to her. She reached out her hand to him +slowly and took it, and their fingers met as she did so, and he noted +that her hand was warm and firm and wholesome as he well remembered +it.</p> +<p>She said: ‘Whence hadst thou this fair finger-ring?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘My friend there in the mountain-valley drew +it from off her finger for thee, and bade me bear thee a message.’</p> +<p>Her face flushed red: ‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and doth +she send me a message? Then doth she know of me, and ye have talked +of me together. Well, give the message!’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘She saith, that thou shalt bear in mind, +That to-morrow is a new day.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘for her it is so, and for thee; +but not for me. But now I have brought thee here that thou mightest +swear thine oath to me; lay thine hand on this ring and on this brazen +plate whereby the sun measures the hours of the day for happy folk, +and swear by the spring-tide of the year and all glad things that find +a mate, and by the God of the Earth that rejoiceth in the life of man.’</p> +<p>Then he laid his hand on the finger-ring as it lay on the dial-plate +and said:</p> +<p>‘By the spring-tide and the live things that long to multiply +their kind; by the God of the Earth that rejoiceth in the life of man, +I swear to give to my kinswoman the Bride the second man-child that +I beget; to be hers, to leave or cherish, to love or hate, as her will +may bid her.’ Then he looked on her soberly and said: ‘It +is duly sworn; is it enough?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said; but he saw how the tears ran out of +her eyes and wetted the bosom of her kirtle, and she hung her head for +shame of her grief. And Gold-mane was all abashed, and had no +word to say; for he knew that no word of his might comfort her; and +he deemed it ill done to stay there and behold her sorrow; and he knew +not how to get him gone, and be glad elsewhere, and leave her alone.</p> +<p>Then, as if she had read his thought, she looked up at him and said +smiling a little amidst of her tears:</p> +<p>‘I bid thee stay by me till the flood is over; for I have yet +a word to say to thee.’</p> +<p>So he stood there gazing down on the grass in his turn, and not daring +to raise his eyes to her face, and the minutes seemed long to him: till +at last she said in a voice scarcely yet clear of weeping:</p> +<p>‘Wilt thou say anything to me, and tell me what thou hast done, +and why, and what thou deemest will come of it?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘I will tell the truth as I know it, because thou +askest it of me, and not because I would excuse myself before thee. +What have I done? Yesterday I plighted my troth to wed the woman +that I met last autumn in the wood. And why? I wot not why, +but that I longed for her. Yet I must tell thee that it seemed +to me, and yet seemeth, that I might do no otherwise - that there was +nothing else in the world for me to do. What do I deem will come +of it, sayest thou? This, that we shall be happy together, she +and I, till the day of our death.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘And even so long shall I be sorry: so far are we +sundered now. Alas! who looked for it? And whither shall +I turn to now?’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘She bade me tell thee that to-morrow is a +new day: meseemeth I know her meaning.’</p> +<p>‘No word of hers hath any meaning to me,’ said the Bride.</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said he, ‘but hast thou not heard these +rumours of war that are in the Dale? Shall not these things avail +thee? Much may grow out of them; and thou with the mighty heart, +so faithful and compassionate!’</p> +<p>She said: ‘What sayest thou? What may grow out of them? +Yea, I have heard those rumours as a man sick to death heareth men talk +of their business down in the street while he lieth on his bed; and +already he hath done with it all, and hath no world to mend or mar. +For me nought shall grow out of it. What meanest thou?’</p> +<p>Said Gold-mane: ‘Is there nought in the fellowship of Folks, +and the aiding of the valiant, and the deliverance of the hapless?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘there is nought to me. +I cannot think of it to-day nor yet to-morrow belike. Yet true +it is that I may mingle in it, though thinking nought of it. But +this shall not avail me.’</p> +<p>She was silent a little, but presently spake and said: ‘Thou +sayest right; it is not thou that hast done this, but the woman who +sent me the ring and the message of an old saw. O that she should +be born to sunder us! How hath it befallen that I am now so little +to thee and she so much?’</p> +<p>And again she was silent; and after a while Face-of-god spake kindly +and softly and said: ‘Kinswoman, wilt thou for ever begrudge our +love? this grudge lieth heavy on my soul, and it is I alone that have +to bear it.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘This is but a light burden for thee to bear, when +thou hast nought else to bear! But do I begrudge thee thy love, +Gold-mane? I know not that. Rather meseemeth I do not believe +in it - nor shall do ever.’</p> +<p>Then she held her peace a long while, nor did he speak one word: +and they were so still, that a robin came hopping about them, close +to the hem of her kirtle, and a starling pitched in the apple-tree hard +by and whistled and chuckled, turning about and about, heeding them +nought. Then at last she lifted up her face from looking on the +grass and said: ‘These are idle words and avail nothing: one thing +only I know, that we are sundered. And now it repenteth me that +I have shown thee my tears and my grief and my sickness of the earth +and those that dwell thereon. I am ashamed of it, as if thou hadst +smitten me, and I had come and shown thee the stripes, and said, See +what thou hast done! hast thou no pity? Yea, thou pitiest me, +and wilt try to forget thy pity. Belike thou art right when thou +sayest, To-morrow is a new day; belike matters will arise that will +call me back to life, and I shall once more take heed of the joy and +sorrow of my people. Nay, it is most like that this I shall feign +to do even now. But if to-morrow be a new day, it is to-day now +and not to-morrow, and so shall it be for long. Hereof belike +we shall talk no more, thou and I. For as the days wear, the dealings +between us shall be that thou shalt but get thee away from my life, +and I shall be nought to thee but the name of a kinswoman. Thus +should it be even wert thou to strive to make it otherwise; and thou +shalt <i>not</i> strive. So let all this be; for this is not the +word I had to say to thee. But hearken! now are we sundered, and +it irketh me beyond measure that folk know it not, and are kind, and +rejoice in our love, and deem it a happy thing for the folk; and this +burden I may bear no longer. So I shall declare unto men that +I will not wed thee; and belike they may wonder why it is, till they +see thee wedded to the Woman of the Mountain. Art thou content +that so it shall be?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Nay, thou shalt not take this all upon thyself; +I also shall declare unto the Folk that I will wed none but her, the +Mountain-Woman.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘This shalt thou not do; I forbid it thee. +And I <i>will</i> take it all upon myself. Shall I have it said +of me that I am unmeet to wed thee, and that thou hast found me out +at last and at latest? I lay this upon thee, that wheresoever +I declare this and whatsoever I may say, thou shalt hold thy peace. +This at least thou may’st do for me. Wilt thou?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ he said, ‘though it shall put me to shame.’</p> +<p>Again she was silent for a little; then she said:</p> +<p>‘O Gold-mane, this would I take upon myself not soothly for +any shame of seeming to be thy cast-off; but because it is I who needs +must bear all the sorrow of our sundering; and I have the will to bear +it greater and heavier, that I may be as the women of old time, and +they that have come from the Gods, lest I belittle my life with malice +and spite and confusion, and it become poisonous to me. Be at +peace! be at peace! And leave all to the wearing of the years; +and forget not that which thou hast sworn!’</p> +<p>Therewith she turned and went from that green place toward the House +of the Face, walking slowly through the garden amongst the sweet odours, +beneath the fair blossoms, a body most dainty and beauteous of fashion, +but the casket of grievous sorrow, which all that goodliness availed +not.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god lingered in that place a little, and for that little +while the joy of his life was dulled and overworn; and the days before +his wandering on the mountain seemed to him free and careless and happy +days that he could not but regret. He was ashamed, moreover, that +this so unquenchable grief should come but of him, and the pleasure +of his life, which he himself had found out for himself, and which was +but such a little portion of the Earth and the deeds thereof. +But presently his thought wandered from all this, and as he turned away +from the sundial and went his ways through the garden, he called to +mind his longing for the day of the spring market, when he should see +the Sun-beam again and be cherished by the sweetness of her love.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV. OF THE GATE-THING AT BURGSTEAD</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>But now must he hasten, for the Gate-thing was to be holden two hours +before noon; so he betook him speedily to the Hall, and took his shield +and did on a goodly helm and girt his sword to his side, for men must +needs go to all folk-motes with their weapons and clad in war-gear. +Thus he went forth to the Gate with many others, and there already were +many folk assembled in the space aforesaid betwixt the Gate of the Burg +and the sheer rocks on the face of which were the steps that led up +to the ancient Tower on the height. The Alderman was sitting on +the great stone by the Gate-side which was his appointed place, and +beside him on the stone bench were the six Wardens of the Burg; but +of the six Wardens of the Dale there were but three, for the others +had not yet heard tell of the battle or had got the summons to the Thing, +since they had been about their business down the Dale.</p> +<p>Face-of-god took his place silently amongst the neighbours, but men +made way for him, so that he must needs stand in front, facing his father +and the Wardens; and there went up a murmur of expectation round about +him, both because the word had gone about that he had a tale of new +tidings to tell, and also because men deemed him their best and handiest +man, though he was yet so young.</p> +<p>Now the Alderman looked around and beheld a great throng gathered +together, and he looked on the shadow of the Gate which the southering +sun was casting on the hard white ground of the Thing-stead, and he +saw that it had just taken in the standing-stone which was in the midst +of the place. On the face of the said stone was carven the image +of a fighting man with shield on arm and axe in hand; for it had been +set there in old time in memory of the man who had bidden the Folk build +the Gate and its wall, and had showed them how to fashion it: for he +was a deft house-smith as well as a great warrior; and his name was +Iron-hand. So when the Alderman saw that this stone was wholly +within the shadow of the Gate he knew that it was the due time for the +hallowing-in of the Thing. So he bade one of the wardens who sat +beside him and had a great slug-horn slung about him, to rise and set +the horn to his mouth.</p> +<p>So that man arose and blew three great blasts that went bellowing +about the towers and down the street, and beat back again from the face +of the sheer rocks and up them and over into the wild-wood; and the +sound of it went on the light west-wind along the lips of the Dale toward +the mountain wastes. And many a goodman, when he heard the voice +of the horn in the bright spring morning, left spade or axe or plough-stilts, +or the foddering of the ewes and their younglings, and turned back home +to fetch his sword and helm and hasten to the Thing, though he knew +not why it was summoned: and women wending over the meadows, who had +not yet heard of the battle in the wood, hearkened and stood still on +the green grass or amidst the ripples of the ford, and the threat of +coming trouble smote heavy on their hearts, for they knew that great +tidings must be towards if a Thing must needs be summoned so close to +the Great Folk-mote.</p> +<p>But now the Alderman stood up and spake amidst the silence that followed +the last echoes of the horn:</p> +<p>‘Now is hallowed in this Gate-thing of the Burgstead Men and +the Men of the Dale, wherein they shall take counsel concerning matters +late befallen, that press hard upon them. Let no man break the +peace of the Holy Thing, lest he become a man accursed in holy places +from the plain up to the mountain, and from the mountain down to the +plain; a man not to be cherished of any man of good will, not be holpen +with victuals or edge-tool or draught-beast; a man to be sheltered under +no roof-tree, and warmed at no hearth of man: so help us the Warrior +and the God of the Earth, and Him of the Face, and all the Fathers!’</p> +<p>When he had spoken men clashed their weapons in token of assent; +and he sat down again, and there was silence for a space. But +presently came thrusting forward a goodman of the Dale, who seemed as +if he had come hurriedly to the Thing; for his face was running down +with sweat, his wide-rimmed iron cap sat awry over his brow, and he +was girt with a rusty sword without a scabbard, and the girdle was ill-braced +up about his loins. So he said:</p> +<p>‘I am Red-coat of Waterless of the Lower Dale. Early +this morning as I was going afield I met on the way a man akin to me, +Fox of Upton to wit, and he told me that men were being summoned to +a Gate-thing. So I turned back home, and caught up any weapon +that came handy, and here I am, Alderman, asking thee of the tidings +which hath driven thee to call this Thing so hard on the Great Folk-mote, +for I know them nothing so.’</p> +<p>Then stood up Iron-face the Alderman and said: ‘This is well +asked, and soon shall ye be as wise as I am on this matter. Know +ye, O men of Burgstead and the Dale, that we had not called this Gate-thing +so hard on the Great Folk-mote had not great need been to look into +troublous matters. Long have ye dwelt in peace, and it is years +on years now since any foeman hath fallen on the Dale: but, as ye will +bear in mind, last autumn were there ransackings in the Dale and amidst +of the Shepherds after the manner of deeds of war; and it troubleth +us that none can say who wrought these ill deeds. Next, but a +little while agone, was Wood-grey, a valiant goodman of the Woodlanders, +slain close to his own door by evil men. These men we took at +first for mere gangrel felons and outcasts from their own folk: though +there were some who spoke against that from the beginning.</p> +<p>‘But thirdly are new tidings again: for three days ago, while +some of the folk were hunting peaceably in the Wild-wood and thinking +no evil, they were fallen upon of set purpose by a host of men-at-arms, +and nought would serve but mere battle for dear life, so that many of +our neighbours were hurt, and three slain outright; and now mark this, +that those who there fell upon our folk were clad and armed even as +the two felons that slew Wood-grey, and moreover were like them in aspect +of body. Now stand forth Hall-face my son, and answer to my questions +in a loud voice, so that all may hear thee.’</p> +<p>So Hall-face stood forth, clad in gleaming war-gear, with an axe +over his shoulder, and seemed a doughty warrior. And Iron-face +said to him:</p> +<p>‘Tell me, son, those whom ye met in the wood, and of whom ye +brought home two captives, how much like were they to the murder-carles +at Wood-grey’s?’</p> +<p>Said Hall-face: ‘As like as peas out of the same cod, and to +our eyes all those whom we saw in the wood might have been sons of one +father and one mother, so much alike were they.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said the Alderman; ‘now tell me how many +by thy deeming fell upon you in the wood?’</p> +<p>Said Hall-face: ‘We deemed that if they were any less than +threescore, they were little less.’</p> +<p>‘Great was the odds,’ said the Alderman. ‘Or +how many were ye?’</p> +<p>‘One score and seven,’ said Hall-face.</p> +<p>Said the Alderman: ‘And yet ye escaped with life all save those +three?’</p> +<p>Hall-face said: ‘I deem that scarce one should have come back +alive, had it not been that as we fought came a noise like the howling +of wolves, and thereat the foemen turned and fled, and there followed +on the fleers tall men clad in sheep-brown raiment, who smote them down +as they fled.’</p> +<p>‘Here then is the story, neighbours,’ said the Alderman, +‘and ye may see thereby that if those slayers of Wood-grey were +outcast, their band is a great one; but it seemeth rather that they +were men of a folk whose craft it is to rob with the armed hand, and +to slay the robbed; and that they are now gathering on our borders for +war. Yet, moreover, they have foemen in the woods who should be +fellows-in-arms of us. How sayest thou, Stone-face? Thou +art old, and hast seen many wars in the Dale, and knowest the Wild-wood +to its innermost.</p> +<p>‘Alderman,’ said Stone-face, ‘and ye neighbours +of the Dale, maybe these foes whom ye have met are not of the race of +man, but are trolls and wood-wights. Now if they be trolls it +is ill, for then is the world growing worser, and the wood shall be +right perilous for those who needs must fare therein. Yet if they +be men it is a worse matter; for the trolls would not come out of the +waste into the sunlight of the Dale. But these foes, if they be +men, are lusting after our fair Dale to eat it up, and it is most like +that they are gathering a huge host to fall upon us at home. Such +things I have heard of when I was young, and the aspect of the evil +men who overran the kindreds of old time, according to all tales and +lays that I have heard, is even such as the aspect of those whom we +have seen of late. As to those wolves who saved the neighbours +and chased their foemen, there is one here who belike knoweth more of +all this than we do, and that, O Alderman, is thy son whom I have fostered, +Face-of-god to wit. Bid him answer to thy questioning, and tell +us what he hath seen and heard of late; then shall we verily know the +whole story as far as it can be known.’</p> +<p>Then men pressed round, and were eager to hear what Face-of-god would +be saying. But or ever the Alderman could begin to question him, +the throng was cloven by new-comers, and these were the men who had +been sent to bring home the corpses of the Dusky Men: so they had cast +loaded hooks into the Weltering Water, and had dragged up him whom Face-of-god +had shoved into the eddy, and who had sunk like a stone just where he +fell, and now they were bringing him on a bier along with him who had +been slain a-land. They were set down in the place before the +Alderman, and men who had not seen them before looked eagerly on them +that they might behold the aspect of their foemen; and nought lovely +were they to look on; for the drowned man was already bleached and swollen +with the water, and the other, his face was all wryed and twisted with +that spear-thrust in the mouth.</p> +<p>Then the Alderman said: ‘I would question my son Face-of-god. +Let him stand forth!’</p> +<p>And therewith he smiled merrily in his son’s face, for he was +standing right in front of him; and he said:</p> +<p>‘Ask of me, Alderman, and I will answer.’</p> +<p>‘Kinsman,’ said Iron-face, ‘look at these two dead +men, and tell me, if thou hast seen any such besides those two murder-carles +who were slain at Carlstead; or if thou knowest aught of their folk?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Yesterday I saw six others like to these +both in array and of body, and three of them I slew, for we were in +battle with them early in the morning.’</p> +<p>There was a murmur of joy at this word, since all men took these +felons for deadly foemen; but Iron-face said: ‘What meanest thou +by “we”?’</p> +<p>‘I and the men who had guested me overnight,’ said Face-of-god, +‘and they slew the other three; or rather a woman of them slew +the felons.’</p> +<p>‘Valiant she was; all good go with her hand!’ said the +Alderman. ‘But what be these people, and where do they dwell?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘As to what they are, they are of the kindred +of the Gods and the Fathers, valiant men, and guest-cherishing: rich +have they been, and now are poor: and their poverty cometh of these +same felons, who mastered them by numbers not to be withstood. +As to where they dwell: when I say the name of their dwelling-place +men mock at me, as if I named some valley in the moon: yet came I to +Burgdale thence in one day across the mountain-necks led by sure guides, +and I tell thee that the name of their abode is Shadowy Vale.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Iron-face, ‘knoweth any man here of +Shadowy Vale, or where it is?’</p> +<p>None answered for a while; but there was an old man who was sitting +on the shafts of a wain on the outskirts of the throng, and when he +heard this word he asked his neighbour what the Alderman was saying, +and he told him. Then said that elder:</p> +<p>‘Give me place; for I have a word to say hereon.’ +Therewith he arose, and made his way to the front of the ring of men, +and said: ‘Alderman, thou knowest me?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Iron-face, ‘thou art called the Fiddle, +because of thy sweet speech and thy minstrelsy; whereof I mind me well +in the time when I was young and thou no longer young.’</p> +<p>‘So it is,’ said the Fiddle. ‘Now hearken! +When I was very young I heard of a vale lying far away across the mountain-necks; +a vale where the sun shone never in winter and scantily in summer; for +my sworn foster-brother, Fight-fain, a bold man and a great hunter, +had happened upon it; and on a day in full midsummer he brought me thither; +and even now I see the Vale before me as in a picture; a marvellous +place, well grassed, treeless, narrow, betwixt great cliff-walls of +black stone, with a green river running through it towards a yawning +gap and a huge force. Amidst that Vale was a doom-ring of black +stones, and nigh thereto a feast-hall well builded of the like stones, +over whose door was carven the image of a wolf with red gaping jaws, +and within it (for we entered into it) were stone benches on the daïs. +Thence we came away, and thither again we went in late autumn, and so +dusk and cold it was at that season, that we knew not what to call it +save the valley of deep shade. But its real name we never knew; +for there was no man there to give us a name or tell us any tale thereof; +but all was waste there; the wimbrel laughed across its water, the raven +croaked from its crags, the eagle screamed over it, and the voices of +its waters never ceased; and thus we left it. So the seasons passed, +and we went thither no more: for Fight-fain died, and without him wandering +over the waste was irksome to me; so never have I seen that valley again, +or heard men tell thereof.</p> +<p>‘Now, neighbours, have I told you of a valley which seemeth +to be Shadowy Vale; and this is true and no made-up story.’</p> +<p>The Alderman nodded kindly to him, and then said to Face-of-god: +‘Kinsman, is this word according with what thou knowest of Shadowy +Vale?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, on all points,’ said Face-of-god; ‘he hath +put before me a picture of the valley. And whereas he saith, that +in his youth it was waste, this also goeth with my knowledge thereof. +For once was it peopled, and then was waste, and now again is it peopled.’</p> +<p>‘Tell us then more of the folk thereof,’ said the Alderman; +‘are they many?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘they are not. How +might they be many, dwelling in that narrow Vale amid the wastes? +But they are valiant, both men and women, and strong and well-liking. +Once they dwelt in a fair dale called Silver-dale, the name whereof +will be to you as a name in a lay; and there were they wealthy and happy. +Then fell upon them this murderous Folk, whom they call the Dusky Men; +and they fought and were overcome, and many of them were slain, and +many enthralled, and the remnant of them escaped through the passes +of the mountains and came back to dwell in Shadowy Vale, where their +forefathers had dwelt long and long ago; and this overthrow befell them +ten years agone. But now their old foemen have broken out from +Silver-dale and have taken to scouring the wood seeking prey; so they +fall upon these Dusky Men as occasion serves, and slay them without +pity, as if they were adders or evil dragons; and indeed they be worse. +And these valiant men know for certain that their foemen are now of +mind to fall upon this Dale and destroy it, as they have done with others +nigher to them. And they will slay our men, and lie with our women +against their will, and enthrall our children, and torment all those +that lie under their hands till life shall be worse than death to them. +Therefore, O Alderman and Wardens, and ye neighbours all, it behoveth +you to take counsel what we shall do, and that speedily.’</p> +<p>There was again a murmur, as of men nothing daunted, but intent on +taking some way through the coming trouble. But no man said aught +till the Alderman spake:</p> +<p>‘When didst thou first happen upon this Earl-folk, son?’</p> +<p>‘Late last autumn,’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>Said Iron-face: ‘Then mightest thou have told us of this tale +before.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said his son, ‘but I knew it not, or but +little of it, till two days agone. In the autumn I wandered in +the woodland, and on the fell I happened on a few of this folk dwelling +in a booth by the pine-wood; and they were kind and guest-fain with +me, and gave me meat and drink and lodging, and bade me come to Shadowy +Vale in the spring, when I should know more of them. And that +was I fain of; for they are wise and goodly men. But I deemed +no more of those that I saw there save as men who had been outlawed +by their own folk for deeds that were unlawful belike, but not shameful, +and were biding their time of return, and were living as they might +meanwhile. But of the whole Folk and their foemen knew I no more +than ye did, till two days agone, when I met them again in Shadowy Vale. +Also I think before long ye shall see their chieftain in Burgstead, +for he hath a word for us. Lastly, my mind it is that those brown-clad +men who helped Hall-face and his company in the wood were nought but +men of this Earl-kin seeking their foemen; for indeed they told me that +they had come upon a battle in the woodland wherein they had slain their +foemen. Now have I told you all that ye need to know concerning +these matters.’</p> +<p>Again was there silence as Iron-face sat pondering a question for +his son; then a goodman of the Upper Dale, Gritgarth to wit, spake and +said:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane mine, tell us how many is this folk; I mean their +fighting-men?’</p> +<p>‘Well asked, neighbour,’ said Iron-face.</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Their fighting-men of full age may be five +score; but besides that there shall be some two or three score of women +that will fight, whoever says them nay; and many of these are little +worse in the field than men; or no worse, for they shoot well in the +bow. Moreover, there will be a full score of swains not yet twenty +winters old whom ye may not hinder to fight if anything is a-doing.’</p> +<p>‘This is no great host,’ said the Alderman; ‘yet +if they deem there is little to lose by fighting, and nought to gain +by sitting still, they may go far in winning their desire; and that +more especially if they may draw into their quarrel some other valiant +Folk more in number than they be. I marvel not, though, they were +kind to thee, son Gold-mane, if they knew who thou wert.’</p> +<p>‘They knew it,’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘Neighbours,’ said the Alderman, ‘have ye any rede +hereon, and aught to say to back your rede?’</p> +<p>Then spake the Fiddle: ‘As ye know and may see, I am now very +old, and, as the word goes, unmeet for battle: yet might I get me to +the field, either on mine own legs or on the legs of some four-foot +beast, I would strike, if it were but one stroke, on these pests of +the earth. And, Alderman, meseemeth we shall do amiss if we bid +not the Earl-folk of Shadowy Vale to be our fellows in arms in this +adventure. For look you, how few soever they be, they will be +sure to know the ways of our foemen, and the mountain passes, and the +surest and nighest roads across the necks and the mires of the waste; +and though they be not a host, yet shall they be worth a host to us?’</p> +<p>When men heard his words they shouted for joy of them; for hatred +of the Dusky Men who should so mar their happy life in the Dale was +growing up in them, and the more that hatred waxed, the more waxed their +love of those valiant ones.</p> +<p>Now Red-coat of Waterless spake again: he was a big man, both tall +and broad, ruddy-faced and red-haired, some forty winters old. +He said:</p> +<p>‘Life hath been well with us of the Lower Dale, and we deem +that we have much to lose in losing it. Yet ill would the bargain +be to buy life with thralldom: we have been over-merry hitherto for +that. Therefore I say, to battle! And as to these men, these +well-wishers of Face-of-god, if they also are minded for battle with +our foes, we were fools indeed if we did not join them to our company, +were they but one score instead of six.’</p> +<p>Men shouted again, and they said that Red-coat had spoken well. +Then one after other the goodmen of the Dale came and gave their word +for fellowship in arms with the Men of Shadowy Vale, if there were such +as Face-of-god had said, which they doubted not; and amongst them that +spake were Fox of Nethertown, and Warwell, and Gritgarth, and Bearswain, +and Warcliff, and Hart of Highcliff, and Worm of Willowholm, and Bullsbane, +and Highneb of the Marsh: all these were stout men-at-arms and men of +good counsel.</p> +<p>Last of all the Alderman spake and said:</p> +<p>‘As to the war, that must we needs meet if all be sooth that +we have heard, and I doubt it not.</p> +<p>‘Now therefore let us look to it like wise men while time yet +serves. Ye shall know that the muster of the Dalesmen will bring +under shield eight long hundreds of men well-armed, and of the Shepherd-Folk +four hundreds, and of the Woodlanders two hundreds; and this is a goodly +host if it be well ordered and wisely led. Now am I your Alderman +and your Doomster, and I can heave up a sword as well as another maybe, +nor do I think that I shall blench in the battle; yet I misdoubt me +that I am no leader or orderer of men-of-war: therefore ye will do wisely +to choose a wiser man-at-arms than I be for your War-leader; and if +at the Great Folk-mote, when all the Houses and Kindreds are gathered, +men yeasay your choosing, then let him abide; but if they naysay it, +let him give place to another. For time presses. Will ye +so choose?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, yea!’ cried all men.</p> +<p>‘Good is that, neighbours,’ said the Alderman. +‘Whom will ye have for War-leader? Consider well.’</p> +<p>Short was their rede, for every man opened his mouth and cried out +‘Face-of-god!’ Then said the Alderman:</p> +<p>‘The man is young and untried; yet though he is so near akin +to me, I will say that ye will do wisely to take him; for he is both +deft of his hands and brisk; and moreover, of this matter he knoweth +more than all we together. Now therefore I declare him your War-leader +till the time of the Great Folk-mote.’</p> +<p>Then all men shouted with great glee and clashed their weapons; but +some few put their heads together and spake apart a little while, and +then one of them, Red-coat of Waterless to wit, came forward and said: +‘Alderman, some of us deem it good that Stone-face, the old man +wise in war and in the ways of the Wood, should be named as a counsellor +to the War-leader; and Hall-face, a very brisk and strong young man, +to be his right hand and sword-bearer.’</p> +<p>‘Good is that,’ said Iron-face. ‘Neighbours, +will ye have it so?’ This also they yeasaid without delay, +and the Alderman declared Stone-face and Hall-face the helpers of Face-of-god +in this business. Then he said:</p> +<p>‘If any hath aught to say concerning what is best to be done +at once, it were good that he said it now before all and not to murmur +and grudge hereafter.’</p> +<p>None spake save the Fiddle, who said: ‘Alderman and War-leader, +one thing would I say: that if these foemen are anywise akin to those +overrunners of the Folks of whom the tales went in my youth (for I also +as well as Stone-face mind me well of those tales concerning them), +it shall not avail us to sit still and await their onset. For +then may they not be withstood, when they have gathered head and burst +out and over the folk that have been happy, even as the waters that +overtop a dyke and cover with their muddy ruin the deep green grass +and the flower-buds of spring. Therefore my rede is, as soon as +may be to go seek these folk in the woodland and wheresoever else they +may be wandering. What sayest thou, Face-of-god?’</p> +<p>‘My rede is as thine,’ said he; ‘and to begin with, +I do now call upon ten tens of good men to meet me in arms at the beginning +of Wildlake’s Way to-morrow morning at daybreak; and I bid my +brother Hall-face to summon such as are most meet thereto. For +this I deem good, that we scour the wood daily at present till we hear +fresh tidings from them of Shadowy Vale, who are nigher than we to the +foemen. Now, neighbours, are ye ready to meet me?’</p> +<p>Then all shouted, ‘Yea, we will go, we will go!’</p> +<p>Said the Alderman: ‘Now have we made provision for the war +in that which is nearest to our hands. Yet have we to deal with +the matter of the fellowship with the Folk whom Face-of-god hath seen. +This is a matter for thee, son, at least till the Great Folk-mote is +holden. Tell me then, shall we send a messenger to Shadowy Vale +to speak with this folk, or shall we abide the chieftain’s coming?’</p> +<p>‘By my rede,’ said Face-of-god, ‘we shall abide +his coming: for first, though I might well make my way thither, I doubt +if I could give any the bearings, so that he could come there without +me; and belike I am needed at home, since I am become War-leader. +Moreover, when your messenger cometh to Shadowy Vale, he may well chance +to find neither the chieftain there, nor the best of his men; for whiles +are they here, and whiles there, as they wend following after the Dusky +Men.’</p> +<p>‘It is well, son,’ said the Alderman, ‘let it be +as thou sayest: soothly this matter must needs be brought before the +Great Folk-mote. Now will I ask if any other hath any word to +say, or any rede to give before this Gate-thing sundereth?’</p> +<p>But no man came forward, and all men seemed well content and of good +heart; and it was now well past noontide.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI. THE ENDING OF THE GATE-THING</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>But just as the Alderman was on the point of rising to declare the +breaking-up of the Thing, there came a stir in the throng and it opened, +and a warrior came forth into the innermost of the ring of men, arrayed +in goodly glittering War-gear; clad in such wise that a tunicle of precious +gold-wrought web covered the hauberk all but the sleeves thereof, and +the hem of it beset with blue mountain-stones smote against the ankles +and well-nigh touched the feet, shod with sandals gold-embroidered and +gemmed. This warrior bore a goodly gilded helm on the head, and +held in hand a spear with gold-garlanded shaft, and was girt with a +sword whose hilts and scabbard both were adorned with gold and gems: +beardless, smooth-cheeked, exceeding fair of face was the warrior, but +pale and somewhat haggard-eyed: and those who were nearby beheld and +wondered; for they saw that there was come the Bride arrayed for war +and battle, as if she were a messenger from the House of the Gods, and +the Burg that endureth for ever.</p> +<p>Then she fell to speech in a voice which at first was somewhat hoarse +and broken, but cleared as she went on, and she said:</p> +<p>‘There sittest thou, O Alderman of Burgdale! Is Face-of-god +thy son anywhere nigh, so that he can hear me?’</p> +<p>But Iron-face wondered at her word, and said: ‘He is beside +thee, as he should be.’ For indeed Face-of-god was touching +her, shoulder to shoulder. But she looked not to the right hand +nor the left, but said:</p> +<p>‘Hearken, Iron-face! Chief of the House of the Face, +Alderman of the Dale, and ye also, neighbours and goodmen of the Dale: +I am a woman called the Bride, of the House of the Steer, and ye have +heard that I have plighted my troth to Face-of-god to wed with him, +to love him, and lie in his bed. But it is not so: we are not +troth-plight; nor will I wed with him, nor any other, but will wend +with you to the war, and play my part therein according to what might +is in me; nor will I be worser than the wives of Shadowy Vale.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god heard her words with no change of countenance; but Iron-face +reddened over all his face, and stared at her, and knit his brows and +said:</p> +<p>‘Maiden, what are these words? What have we done to thee? +Have I not been to thee as a father, and loved thee dearly? Is +not my son goodly and manly and deft in arms? Hath it not ever +been the wont of the House of the Face to wed in the House of the Steer? +and in these two Houses there hath never yet been a goodlier man and +a lovelier maiden than are ye two. What have we done then?’</p> +<p>‘Ye have done nought against me,’ she said, ‘and +all that thou sayest is sooth; yet will I not wed with Face-of-god.’</p> +<p>Yet fiercer waxed the face of the Alderman, and he said in a loud +voice:</p> +<p>‘But how if I tell thee that I will speak with thy kindred +of the Steer, and thou shalt do after my bidding whether thou wilt or +whether thou wilt not?’</p> +<p>‘And how will ye compel me thereto?’ she said. +‘Are there thralls in the Dale? Or will ye make me an outlaw? +Who shall heed it? Or I shall betake me to Shadowy Vale and become +one of their warrior-maidens.’</p> +<p>Now was the Alderman’s face changing from red to white, and +belike he forgat the Thing, and what he was doing there, and he cried +out:</p> +<p>‘This is an evil day, and who shall help me? Thou, Face-of-god, +what hast thou to say? Wilt thou let this woman go without a word? +What hath bewitched thee?’</p> +<p>But never a word spake his son, but stood looking straight forward, +cold and calm by seeming. Then turned Iron-face again to the Bride, +and said in a softer voice:</p> +<p>‘Tell me, maiden, whom I erst called daughter, what hath befallen, +that thou wilt leave my son; thou who wert once so kind and loving to +him; whose hand was always seeking his, whose eyes were ever following +his; who wouldst go where he bade, and come when he called. What +hath betid that ye have cast him out, and flee from our House?’</p> +<p>She flushed red beneath her helm and said:</p> +<p>‘There is war in the land, and I have seen it coming, and that +things shall change around us. I have looked about me and seen +men happy and women content, and children weary for mere mirth and joy. +And I have thought, in a day, or two days or three, all this shall be +changed, and the women shall be, some anxious and wearied with waiting, +some casting all hope away; and the men, some shall come back to the +garth no more, and some shall come back maimed and useless, and there +shall be loss of friends and fellows, and mirth departed, and dull days +and empty hours, and the children wandering about marvelling at the +sorrow of the house. All this I saw before me, and grief and pain +and wounding and death; and I said: Shall I be any better than the worst +of the folk that loveth me? Nay, this shall never be; and since +I have learned to be deft with mine hands in all the play of war, and +that I am as strong as many a man, and as hardy-hearted as any, I will +give myself to the Warrior and the God of the Face; and the battle-field +shall be my home, and the after-grief of the fight my banquet and holiday, +that I may bear the burden of my people, in the battle and out of it; +and know every sorrow that the Dale hath; and cast aside as a grievous +and ugly thing the bed of the warrior that the maiden desires, and the +toying of lips and hands and soft words of desire, and all the joy that +dwelleth in the Castle of Love and the Garden thereof; while the world +outside is sick and sorry, and the fields lie waste and the harvest +burneth. Even so have I sworn, even so will I do.’</p> +<p>Her eyes glittered and her cheek was flushed, and her voice was clear +and ringing now; and when she ended there arose a murmur of praise from +the men round about her. But Iron-face said coldly:</p> +<p>‘These are great words; but I know not what they mean. +If thou wilt to the field and fight among the carles (and that I would +not naysay, for it hath oft been done and praised aforetime), why shouldest +thou not go side by side with Face-of-god and as his plighted maiden?’</p> +<p>The light which the sweetness of speech had brought into her face +had died out of it now, and she looked weary and hapless as she answered +him slowly:</p> +<p>‘I will not wed with Face-of-god, but will fare afield as a +virgin of war, as I have sworn to the Warrior.’</p> +<p>Then waxed Iron-face exceeding wroth, and he rose up before all men +and cried loudly and fiercely:</p> +<p>‘There is some lie abroad, that windeth about us as the gossamers +in the lanes of an autumn morning.’</p> +<p>And therewith he strode up to Face-of-god as though he had nought +to do with the Thing; and he stood before him and cried out at him while +all men wondered:</p> +<p>‘Thou! what hast thou done to turn this maiden’s heart +to stone? Who is it that is devising guile with thee to throw +aside this worthy wedding in a worthy House, with whom our sons are +ever wont to wed? Speak, tell the tale!’</p> +<p>But Face-of-god held his peace and stood calm and proud before all +men.</p> +<p>Then the blood mounted to Iron-face’s head, and he forgat folk +and kindred and the war to come, and he cried so that all the place +rang with the words of his anger:</p> +<p>‘Thou dastard! I see thee now; it is thou that hast done +this, and not the maiden; and now thou hast made her bear a double burden, +and set her on to speak for thee, whilst thou standest by saying nought, +and wilt take no scruple’s weight of her shame upon thee!’</p> +<p>But his son spake never a word, and Iron-face cried: ‘Out on +thee! I know thee now, and why thou wouldest not to the West-land +last winter. I am no fool; I know thee. Where hast thou +hidden the stranger woman?’</p> +<p>Therewith he drew forth his sword and hove it aloft as if to hew +down Face-of-god, who spake not nor flinched nor raised a hand from +his side. But the Bride threw herself in front of Gold-mane, while +there arose an angry cry of ‘The Peace of the Holy Thing! +Peace-breaking, peace-breaking!’ and some cried, ‘For the +War-leader, the War-leader!’ and as men could for the press they +drew forth their swords, and there was tumult and noise all over the +Thing-stead.</p> +<p>But Stone-face caught hold of the Alderman’s right arm and +dragged down the sword, and the big carle, Red-coat of Waterless, came +up behind him and cast his arms about his middle and drew him back; +and presently he looked around him, and slowly sheathed his sword, and +went back to his place and sat him down; and in a little while the noise +abated and swords were sheathed, and men waxed quiet again, and the +Alderman arose and said in a loud voice, but in the wonted way of the +head man of the Thing:</p> +<p>‘Here hath been trouble in the Holy Thing; a violent man hath +troubled it, and drawn sword on a neighbour; will the neighbours give +the dooming hereof into the hands of the Alderman?’</p> +<p>Now all knew Iron-face, and they cried out, ‘That will we.’ +So he spake again:</p> +<p>‘I doom the troubler of the Peace of the Holy Thing to pay +a fine, to wit double the blood-wite that would be duly paid for a full-grown +freeman of the kindreds.’</p> +<p>Then the cry went up and men yeasaid his doom, and all said that +it was well and fairly doomed; and Iron-face sat still.</p> +<p>But Stone-face stood forth and said:</p> +<p>‘Here have been wild words in the air; and dreams have taken +shape and come amongst us, and have bewitched us, so that friends and +kin have wrangled. And meseemeth that this is through the wizardry +of these felons, who, even dead as they are, have cast spells over us. +Good it were to cast them into the Death Tarn, and then to get to our +work; for there is much to do.’</p> +<p>All men yeasaid that; and Forkbeard of Lea went with those who had +borne the corpses thither to cast them into the black pool.</p> +<p>But the Fiddle spake and said:</p> +<p>‘Stone-face sayeth sooth. O Alderman, thou art no young +man, yet am I old enough to be thy father; so will I give thee a rede, +and say this: Face-of-god thy son is no liar or dastard or beguiler, +but he is a young man and exceeding goodly of fashion, well-spoken and +kind; so that few women may look on him and hear him without desiring +his kindness and love, and to such men as this many things happen. +Moreover, he hath now become our captain, and is a deft warrior with +his hands, and as I deem, a sober and careful leader of men; therefore +we need him and his courage and his skill of leading. So rage +not against him as if he had done an ill deed not to be forgiven - whatever +he hath done, whereof we know not - for life is long before him, and +most like we shall still have to thank him for many good deeds towards +us. As for the maiden, she is both lovely and wise. She +hath a sorrow at her heart, and we deem that we know what it is. +Yet hath she not lied when she said that she would bear the burden of +the griefs of the people. Even so shall she do; and whether she +will, or whether she will not, that shall heal her own griefs. +For to-morrow is a new day. Therefore, if thou do after my rede, +thou wilt not meddle betwixt these twain, but wilt remember all that +we have to do, and that war is coming upon us. And when that is +over, we shall turn round and behold each other, and see that we are +not wholly what we were before; and then shall that which were hard +to forgive, be forgotten, and that which is remembered be easy to forgive.’</p> +<p>So he spake; and Iron-face sat still and put his left hand to his +beard as one who pondereth; but the Bride looked in the face of the +old man the Fiddle, and then she turned and looked at Gold-mane, and +her face softened, and she stood before the Alderman, and bent down +before him and held out both her hands to him the palms upward. +Then she said: ‘Thou hast been wroth with me, and I marvel not; +for thy hope, and the hope which we all had, hath deceived thee. +But kind indeed hast thou been to me ere now: therefore I pray thee +take it not amiss if I call to thy mind the oath which thou swearedst +on the Holy Boar last Yule, that thou wouldst not gainsay the prayer +of any man if thou couldest perform it; therefore I bid thee naysay +not mine: and that is, that thou wilt ask me no more about this matter, +but wilt suffer me to fare afield like any swain of the Dale, and to +deal so with my folk that they shall not hinder me. Also I pray +thee that thou wilt put no shame upon Face-of-god my playmate and my +kinsman, nor show thine anger to him openly, even if for a little while +thy love for him be abated. No more than this will I ask of thee.’</p> +<p>All men who heard her were moved to the heart by her kindness and +the sweetness of her voice, which was like to the robin singing suddenly +on a frosty morning of early winter. But as for Gold-mane, his +heart was smitten sorely by it, and her sorrow and her friendliness +grieved him out of measure.</p> +<p>But Iron-face answered after a little while, speaking slowly and +hoarsely, and with the shame yet clinging to him of a man who has been +wroth and has speedily let his wrath run off him. So he said:</p> +<p>‘It is well, my daughter. I have no will to forswear +myself; nor hast thou asked me a thing which is over-hard. Yet +indeed I would that to-day were yesterday, or that many days were worn +away.’</p> +<p>Then he stood up and cried in a loud voice over the throng:</p> +<p>‘Let none forget the muster; but hold him ready against the +time that the Warden shall come to him. Let all men obey the War-leader, +Face-of-god, without question or delay. As to the fine of the +peace-breaker, it shall be laid on the altar of the God at the Great +Folk-mote. Herewith is the Thing broken up.’</p> +<p>Then all men shouted and clashed their weapons, and so sundered, +and went about their business.</p> +<p>And the talk of men it was that the breaking of the troth-plight +between those twain was ill; for they loved Face-of-god, and as for +the Bride they deemed her the Dearest of the kindreds and the Jewel +of the Folk, and as if she were the fairest and the kindest of all the +Gods. Neither did the wrath of Iron-face mislike any; but they +said he had done well and manly both to be wroth and to let his wrath +run off him. As to the war which was to come, they kept a good +heart about it, and deemed it as a game to be played, wherein they might +show themselves deft and valiant, and so get back to their merry life +again.</p> +<p>So wore the day through afternoon to even and night.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII. FACE-OF-GOD LEADETH A BAND THROUGH THE WOOD</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Next morning tryst was held faithfully, and an hundred and a half +were gathered together on Wildlake’s Way; and Face-of-god ordered +them into three companies. He made Hall-face leader over the first +one, and bade him hold on his way northward, and then to make for Boars-bait +and see if he should meet with anything thereabout where the battle +had been. Red-coat of Waterless he made captain of the second +band; and he had it in charge to wend eastward along the edge of the +Dale, and not to go deep into the wood, but to go as far as he might +within the time appointed, toward the Mountains. Furthermore, +he bade both Hall-face and Red-coat to bring their bands back to Wildlake’s +Way by the morrow at sunset, where other goodmen should be come to take +the places of their men; and then if he and his company were back again, +he would bid them further what to do; but if not, as seemed likely, +then Hall-face’s band to go west toward the Shepherd country half +a day’s journey, and so back, and Red-coat’s east along +the Dale’s lip again for the like time, and then back, so that +there might be a constant watch and ward of the Dale kept against the +Felons.</p> +<p>All being ordered Gold-mane led his own company north-east through +the thick wood, thinking that he might so fare as to come nigh to Silver-dale, +or at least to hear tidings thereof. This intent he told to Stone-face, +but the old man shook his head and said:</p> +<p>‘Good is this if it may be done; but it is not for everyone +to go down to Hell in his lifetime and come back safe with a tale thereof. +However, whither thou wilt lead, thither will I follow, though assured +death waylayeth us.’</p> +<p>And the old carle was joyous and proud to be on this adventure, and +said, that it was good indeed that his foster-son had with him a man +well stricken in years, who had both seen many things, and learned many, +and had good rede to give to valiant men.</p> +<p>So they went on their ways, and fared very warily when they were +gotten beyond those parts of the wood which they knew well. By +this time they were strung out in a long line; and they noted their +road carefully, blazing the trees on either side when there were trees, +and piling up little stone-heaps where the trees failed them. +For Stone-face said that oft it befell men amidst the thicket and the +waste to be misled by wights that begrudged men their lives, so that +they went round and round in a ring which they might not depart from +till they died; and no man doubted his word herein.</p> +<p>All day they went, and met no foe, nay, no man at all; nought but +the wild things of the wood; and that day the wood changed little about +them from mile to mile. There were many thickets across their +road which they had to go round about; so that to the crow flying over +the tree-tops the journey had not been long to the place where night +came upon them, and where they had to make the wood their bedchamber.</p> +<p>That night they lighted no fire, but ate such cold victual as they +might carry with them; nor had they shot any venison, since they had +with them more than enough; they made little noise or stir therefore +and fell asleep when they had set the watch.</p> +<p>On the morrow they arose betimes, and broke their fast and went their +ways till noon: by then the wood had thinned somewhat, and there was +little underwood betwixt the scrubby oak and ash which were pretty nigh +all the trees about: the ground also was broken, and here and there +rocky, and they went into and out of rough little dales, most of which +had in them a brook of water running west and southwest; and now Face-of-god +led his men somewhat more easterly; and still for some while they met +no man.</p> +<p>At last, about four hours after noon, when they were going less warily, +because they had hitherto come across nothing to hinder them, rising +over the brow of a somewhat steep ridge, they saw down in the valley +below them a half score of men sitting by the brook-side eating and +drinking, their weapons lying beside them, and along with them stood +a woman with her hands tied behind her back.</p> +<p>They saw at once that these men were of the Felons, so they that +had their bows bent, loosed at them without more ado, while the others +ran in upon them with sword and spear. The felons leapt up and +ran scattering down the dale, such of them as were not smitten by the +shafts; but he who was nighest to the woman, ere he ran, turned and +caught up a sword from the ground and thrust it through her, and the +next moment fell across the brook with an arrow in his back.</p> +<p>No one of the felons was nimble enough to escape from the fleet-foot +hunters of Burgdale, and they were all slain there to the number of +eleven.</p> +<p>But when they came back to the woman to tend her, she breathed her +last in their hands: she was a young and fair woman, black-haired and +dark-eyed. She had on her body a gown of rich web, but nought +else: she had been bruised and sore mishandled, and the Burgdale carles +wept for pity of her, and for wrath, as they straightened her limbs +on the turf of the little valley. They let her lie there a little, +whilst they searched round about, lest there should be any other poor +soul needing their help, or any felon lurking thereby; but they found +nought else save a bundle wherein was another rich gown and divers woman’s +gear, and sundry rings and jewels, and therewithal the weapons and war-gear +of a knight, delicately wrought after the Westland fashion: these seemed +to them to betoken other foul deeds of these murder-carles. So +when they had abided a while, they laid the dead woman in mould by the +brook-side, and buried with her the other woman’s attire and the +knight’s gear, all but his sword and shield, which they had away +with them: then they cast the carcasses of the felons into the brake, +but brought away their weapons and the silver rings from their arms, +which they wore like all the others of them whom they had fallen in +with; and so went on their way to the north-east, full of wrath against +those dastards of the Earth.</p> +<p>It was hard on sunset when they left the valley of murder, and they +went no long way thence before they must needs make stay for the night; +and when they had arrayed their sleeping-stead the moon was up, and +they saw that before them lay the close wood again, for they had made +their lair on the top of a little ridge.</p> +<p>There then they lay, and nought stirred them in the night, and betimes +on the morrow they were afoot, and entered the abovesaid thicket, wherein +two of them, keen hunters, had been aforetime, but had not gone deep +into it. Through this wood they went all day toward the north-east, +and met nought but the wild things therein. At last, when it was +near sunset, they came out of the thicket into a small plain, or shallow +dale rather, with no great trees in it, but thorn-brakes here and there +where the ground sank into hollows; a little river ran through the midst +of it, and winded round about a height whose face toward the river went +down sheer into the water, but away from it sank down in a long slope +to where the thick wood began again: and this height or burg looked +well-nigh west.</p> +<p>Thitherward they went; but as they were drawing nigh to the river, +and were on the top of a bent above a bushy hollow between them and +the water, they espied a man standing in the river near the bank, who +saw them not, because he was stooping down intent on something in the +bank or under it: so they gat them speedily down into the hollow without +noise, that they might get some tidings of the man.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god bade his men abide hidden under the bushes and stole +forward quietly up the further bank of the hollow, his target on his +arm and his spear poised. When he was behind the last bush on +the top of the bent he was within half a spear-cast of the water and +the man; so he looked on him and saw that he was quite naked except +for a clout about his middle.</p> +<p>Face-of-god saw at once that he was not one of the Dusky Men; he +was a black-haired man, but white-skinned, and of fair stature, though +not so tall as the Burgdale folk. He was busied in tickling trouts, +and just as Face-of-god came out from the bush into the westering sunlight, +he threw up a fish on to the bank, and looked up therewithal, and beheld +the weaponed man glittering, and uttered a cry, but fled not when he +saw the spear poised for casting.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god spake to him and said: ‘Come hither, Woodsman! +we will not harm thee, but we desire speech of thee: and it will not +avail thee to flee, since I have bowmen of the best in the hollow yonder.’</p> +<p>The man put forth his hands towards him as if praying him to forbear +casting, and looked at him hard, and then came dripping from out the +water, and seemed not greatly afeard; for he stooped down and picked +up the trouts he had taken, and came towards Face-of-god stringing the +last-caught one through the gills on to the withy whereon were the others: +and Face-of-god saw that he was a goodly man of some thirty winters.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god looked on him with friendly eyes and said:</p> +<p>‘Art thou a foemen? or wilt thou be helpful to us?’</p> +<p>He answered in the speech of the kindreds with the hoarse voice of +a much weather-beaten man:</p> +<p>‘Thou seest, lord, that I am naked and unarmed.’</p> +<p>‘Yet may’st thou bewray us,’ said Face-of-god. +‘What man art thou?’</p> +<p>Said the man: ‘I am the runaway thrall of evil men; I have +fled from Rose-dale and the Dusky Men. Hast thou the heart to +hurt me?’</p> +<p>‘We are the foemen of the Dusky Men,’ said Face-of-God; +‘wilt thou help us against them?’</p> +<p>The man knit his brows and said: ‘Yea, if ye will give me your +word not to suffer me to fall into their hands alive. But whence +art thou, to be so bold?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘We are of Burgdale; and I will swear to +thee on the edge of the sword that thou shalt not fall alive into the +hands of the Dusky Men.’</p> +<p>‘Of Burgdale have I heard,’ said the man; ‘and +in sooth thou seemest not such a man as would bewray a hapless man. +But now had I best bring you to some lurking-place where ye shall not +be easily found of these devils, who now oft-times scour the woods hereabout.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Come first and see my fellows; and then +if thou thinkest we have need to hide, it is well.’</p> +<p>So the man went side by side with him towards their lair, and as +they went Gold-mane noted marks of stripes on his back and sides, and +said: ‘Sorely hast thou been mishandled, poor man!’</p> +<p>Then the man turned on him and said somewhat fiercely: ‘Said +I not that I had been a thrall of the Dusky Men? how then should I have +escaped tormenting and scourging, if I had been with them for but three +days?’</p> +<p>As he spake they came about a thorn-bush, and there were the Burgdale +men down in the hollow; and the man said: ‘Are these thy fellows? +Call to mind that thou hast sworn by the edge of the sword not to hurt +me.’</p> +<p>‘Poor man!’ said Face-of-god; ‘these are thy friends, +unless thou bewrayest us.’</p> +<p>Then he cried aloud to his folk: ‘Here is now a good hap! this +is a runaway thrall of the Dusky Men; of him shall we hear tidings; +so cherish him all ye may.’</p> +<p>So the carles thronged about him and bestirred themselves to help +him, and one gave him his surcoat for a kirtle, and another cast a cloak +about him; and they brought him meat and drink, such as they had ready +to hand: and the man looked as if he scarce believed in all this, but +deemed himself to be in a dream. But presently he turned to Face-of-god +and said:</p> +<p>‘Now I see so many men and weapons I deem that ye have no need +to skulk in caves to-night, though I know of good ones: yet shall ye +do well not to light a fire till moon-setting; for the flame ye may +lightly hide, but the smoke may be seen from far aloof.’</p> +<p>But they bade him to meat, and he needed no second bidding but ate +lustily, and they gave him wine, and he drank a great draught and sighed +as for joy. Then he said in a trembling voice, as though he feared +a naysay:</p> +<p>‘If ye are from Burgdale ye shall be faring back again presently; +and I pray you to take me with you.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Yea surely, friend, that will we do, and +rejoice in thee.’</p> +<p>Then he drank another cup which Warcliff held out to him, and spake +again: ‘Yet if ye would abide here till about noon to-morrow, +or mayhappen a little later, I would bring other runaways to see you; +and them also might ye take with you: ye may think when ye see them +that ye shall have small gain of their company; for poor wretched folk +they be, like to myself. Yet since ye seek for tidings, herein +might they do you more service than I; for amongst them are some who +came out of the hapless Dale within this moon; and it is six months +since I escaped. Moreover, though they may look spent and outworn +now, yet if ye give them a little rest, and feed them well, they shall +yet do many a day’s work for you: and I tell you that if ye take +them for thralls, and put collars on their necks, and use them no worse +than a goodman useth his oxen and his asses, beating them not save when +they are idle or at fault, it shall be to them as if they were come +to heaven out of hell, and to such goodhap as they have not thought +of, save in dreams, for many and many a day. And thus I entreat +you to do because ye seem to me to be happy and merciful men, who will +not begrudge us this happiness.’</p> +<p>The carles of Burgdale listened eagerly to what he said, and they +looked at him with great eyes and marvelled; and their hearts were moved +with pity towards him; and Stone-face said:</p> +<p>‘Herein, O War-leader, need I give thee no rede, for thou mayst +see clearly that all we deem that we should lose our manhood and become +the dastards of the Warrior if we did not abide the coming of these +poor men, and take them back to the Dale, and cherish them.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Wolf of Whitegarth, ‘and great thanks +we owe to this man that he biddeth us this: for great will be the gain +to us if we become so like the Gods that we may deliver the poor from +misery. Now must I needs think how they shall wonder when they +come to Burgdale and find out how happy it is to dwell there.’</p> +<p>‘Surely,’ said Face-of-god, ‘thus shall we do, +whatever cometh of it. But, friend of the wood, as to thralls, +there be none such in the Dale, but therein are all men friends and +neighbours, and even so shall ye be.’</p> +<p>And he fell a-musing, when he bethought him of how little he had +known of sorrow.</p> +<p>But that man, when he beheld the happy faces of the Burgdalers, and +hearkened to their friendly voices, and understood what they said, and +he also was become strong with the meat and drink, he bowed his head +adown and wept a long while; and they meddled not with him, till he +turned again to them and said:</p> +<p>‘Since ye are in arms, and seem to be seeking your foemen, +I suppose ye wot that these tyrants and man-quellers will fall upon +you in Burgdale ere the summer is well worn.’</p> +<p>‘So much we deem indeed,’ said Face-of-god, ‘but +we were fain to hear the certainty of it, and how thou knowest thereof.’</p> +<p>Said the man: ‘It was six moons ago that I fled, as I have +told you; and even then it was the common talk amongst our masters that +there were fair dales to the south which they would overrun. Man +would say to man: We were over many in Silver-dale, and we needed more +thralls, because those we had were lessening, and especially the women; +now are we more at ease in Rose-dale, though we have sent thralls to +Silver-dale; but yet we can bear no more men from thence to eat up our +stock from us: let them fare south to the happy dales, and conquer them, +and we will go with them and help therein, whether we come back to Rose-dale +or no. Such talk did I hear then with mine own ears: but some +of those whom I shall bring to you to-morrow shall know better what +is doing, since they have fled from Rose-dale but a few days. +Moreover, there is a man and a woman who have fled from Silver-dale +itself, and are but a month from it, journeying all the time save when +they must needs hide; and these say that their masters have got to know +the way to Burgdale, and are minded for it before the winter, as I said; +and nought else but the ways thither do they desire to know, since they +have no fear.’</p> +<p>By then was night come, and though the moon was high in heaven, and +lighted all that waste, the Burgdalers must needs light a fire for cooking +their meat, whatsoever that woodsman might say; moreover, the night +was cold and somewhat frosty. A little before they had come to +that place they had shot a fat buck and some smaller deer, but of other +meat they had no great store, though there was wine enough. So +they lit their fire in the thickest of the thorn-bush to hide it all +they might, and thereat they cooked their venison and the trouts which +the runaway had taken, and they fell to, and ate and drank and were +merry, making much of that poor man till him-seemed he was gotten into +the company of the kindest of the Gods.</p> +<p>But when they were full, Face-of-god spake to him, and asked him +his name; and he named himself Dallach; but said he: ‘Lord, this +is according to the naming of men in Rose-dale before we were enthralled: +but now what names have thralls? Also I am not altogether of the +blood of them of Rose-dale, but of better and more warrior-like kin.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Thou hast named Silver-dale; knowest thou +it?’</p> +<p>Dallach answered: ‘I have never seen it. It is far hence; +in a week’s journey, making all diligence, and not being forced +to hide and skulk like those runaways, ye shall come to the mouth thereof +lying west, where its rock-walls fall off toward the plain.’</p> +<p>‘But,’ said Face-of-god, ‘is there no other way +into that Dale?’</p> +<p>‘Nay, none that folk wot of,’ said Dallach, ‘except +to bold cragsmen with their lives in their hands.’</p> +<p>‘Knowest thou aught of the affairs of Silver-dale?’ said +Face-of-god.</p> +<p>Said Dallach: ‘Somewhat I know: we wot that but a few years +ago there was a valiant folk dwelling therein, who were lords of the +whole dale, and that they were vanquished by the Dusky Men: but whether +they were all slain and enthralled we wot not; but we deem it otherwise. +As for me it is of their blood that I am partly come; for my father’s +father came thence to settle in Rose-dale, and wedded a woman of the +Dale, who was my father’s mother.’</p> +<p>‘When was it that ye fell under the Dusky Men?’ said +Face-of-god.</p> +<p>Said Dallach: ‘It was five years ago. They came into +the Dale a great company, all in arms.’</p> +<p>‘Was there battle betwixt you?’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘Alas! not so,’ said Dallach. ‘We were a +happy folk there; but soft and delicate: for the Dale is exceeding fertile, +and beareth wealth in abundance, both corn and oil and wine and fruit, +and of beasts for man’s service the best that may be. Would +that there had been battle, and that I had died therein with those that +had a heart to fight; and even so saith now every man, yea, every woman +in the Dale. But it was not so when the elders met in our Council-House +on the day when the Dusky Men bade us pay them tribute and give them +houses to dwell in and lands to live by. Then had we weapons in +our hands, but no hearts to use them.’</p> +<p>‘What befell then?’ said the goodman of Whitegarth.</p> +<p>Said Dallach: ‘Look ye to it, lords, that it befall not in +Burgdale! We gave them all they asked for, and deemed we had much +left. What befell, sayst thou? We sat quiet; we went about +our work in fear and trembling, for grim and hideous were they to look +on. At first they meddled not much with us, save to take from +our houses what they would of meat and drink, or raiment, or plenishing. +And all this we deemed we might bear, and that we needed no more than +to toil a little more each day so as to win somewhat more of wealth. +But soon we found that it would not be so; for they had no mind to till +the teeming earth or work in the acres we had given them, or to sit +at the loom, or hammer in the stithy, or do any manlike work; it was +we that must do all that for their behoof, and it was altogether for +them that we laboured, and nought for ourselves; and our bodies were +only so much our own as they were needful to be kept alive for labour. +Herein were our tasks harder than the toil of any mules or asses, save +for the younger and goodlier of the women, whom they would keep fair +and delicate to be their bed-thralls.</p> +<p>‘Yet not even so were our bodies safe from their malice: for +these men were not only tyrants, but fools and madmen. Let alone +that there were few days without stripes and torments to satiate their +fury or their pleasure, so that in all streets and nigh any house might +you hear wailing and screaming and groaning; but moreover, though a +wise man would not willingly slay his own thrall any more than his own +horse or ox, yet did these men so wax in folly and malice, that they +would often hew at man or woman as they met them in the way from mere +grimness of soul; and if they slew them it was well. Thereof indeed +came quarrels enough betwixt master and master, for they are much given +to man-slaying amongst themselves: but what profit to us thereof? +Nay, if the dead man were a chieftain, then woe betide the thralls! +for thereof must many an one be slain on his grave-mound to serve him +on the hell-road. To be short: we have heard of men who be fierce, +and men who be grim; but these we may scarce believe us to be men at +all, but trolls rather; and ill will it be if their race waxeth in the +world.’</p> +<p>The Burgdale men hearkened with all their ears, and wondered that +such things could befall; and they rejoiced at the work that lay before +them, and their hearts rose high at the thought of battle in that behalf, +and the fame that should come of it. As for the runaway, they +made so much of him that the man marvelled; for they dealt with him +like a woman cherishing a son, and knew not how to be kind enough to +him.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII. THE MEN OF BURGDALE MEET THE RUNAWAYS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Now ere the night was far spent, Dallach arose and said:</p> +<p>‘Kind folk, ye will presently be sleeping; but I bid you keep +a good watch, and if ye will be ruled by me, ye will kindle no fire +on the morrow, for the smoke riseth thick in the morning air, and is +as a beacon. As for me, I shall leave you here to rest, and I +myself will fare on mine errand.’</p> +<p>They bade him sleep and rest him after so many toils and hardships, +saying that they were not tied to an hour to be back in Burgdale; but +he said: ‘Nay, the moon is high, and it is as good as daylight +to me, who could find my way even by starlight; and your tarrying here +is nowise safe. Moreover, if I could find those folk and bring +them part of the way by night and cloud it were well; for if we were +taken again, burning quick would be the best death by which we should +die. As for me, now am I strong with meat and drink and hope; +and when I come to Burgdale there will be time enough for resting and +slumber.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Shall I not wend with thee to see these +people and the lairs wherein they hide?’</p> +<p>The man smiled: ‘Nay, earl,’ said he, ‘that shall +not be. For wot ye what? If they were to see me in company +of a man-at-arms they would deem that I was bringing the foe upon them, +and would flee, or mayhappen would fall upon us. For as for me, +when I saw thee, thou wert close anigh me, so I knew thee to be no Dusky +Man; but they would see the glitter of thine arms from afar, and to +them all weaponed men are foemen. Thou, lord, knowest not the +heart of a thrall, nor the fear and doubt that is in it. Nay, +I myself must cast off these clothes that ye have given me, and fare +naked, lest they mistrust me. Only I will take a spear in my hand, +and sling a knife round my neck, if ye will give them to me; for if +the worst happen, I will not be taken alive.’</p> +<p>Therewith he cast off his raiment, and they gave him the weapons +and wished him good speed, and he went his way twixt moonlight and shadow; +but the Burgdalers went to sleep when they had set a watch.</p> +<p>Early in the morning they awoke, and the sun was shining and the +thrushes singing in the thorn-brake, and all seemed fair and peaceful, +and a little haze still hung about the face of the burg over the river. +So they went down to the water and washed the night from off them; and +thence the most part of them went back to their lair among the thorn-bushes: +but four of them went up the dale into the oak-wood to shoot a buck, +and five more they sent out to watch their skirts around them; and Face-of-god +with old Stone-face went over a ford of the stream, and came on to the +lower slope of the burg, and so went up it to the top. Thence +they looked about to see if aught were stirring, but they saw little +save the waste and the wood, which on the north-east was thick of big +trees stretching out a long way. Their own lair was clear to see +over its bank and the bushes thereof, and that misliked Face-of-god, +lest any foe should climb the burg that day. The morning was clear, +and Face-of-god looking north-and-by-west deemed he saw smoke rising +into the air over the tree-covered ridges that hid the further distance +toward that aírt, though further east uphove the black shoulders +of the Great that Waste and the snowy peaks behind them. The said +smoke was not such as cometh from one great fire, but was like a thin +veil staining the pale blue sky, as when men are burning ling on the +heath-side and it is seen aloof.</p> +<p>He showed that smoke to Stone-face, who smiled and said:</p> +<p>‘Now will they be lighting the cooking fires in Rose-dale: +would I were there with a few hundreds of axes and staves at my back!’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, smiling in his face, ‘but +where I pray thee are these elves and wood-wights, that we meet them +not? Grim things there are in the woods, and things fair enough +also: but meseemeth that the trolls and the elves of thy young years +have been frighted away.’</p> +<p>Said Stone-face: ‘Maybe, foster-son; that hath been seen ere +now, that when one race of man overrunneth the land inhabited by another, +the wights and elves that love the vanquished are seen no more, or get +them away far off into the outermost wilds, where few men ever come.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, ‘that may well be. +But deemest thou by that token that we shall be vanquished?’</p> +<p>‘As for us, I know not,’ said Stone-face; ‘but +thy friends of Shadowy Vale have been vanquished. Moreover, concerning +these felons whom now we are hunting, are we all so sure that they be +men? Certain it is, that when I go into battle with them, I shall +smite with no more pity than my sword, as if I were smiting things that +may not feel the woes of man.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Yea, even so shall it be with me. +But what thinkest thou of these runaways? Shall we have tidings +of them, or shall Dallach bring the foe upon us? It was for the +sake of that question that I have clomb the burg: and that we might +watch the land about us.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Stone-face, ‘I have seen many men, +and I deem of Dallach that he is a true man. I deem we shall soon +have tidings of his fellows; and they may have seen the elves and wood-wights: +I would fain ask them thereof, and am eager to see them.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘And I somewhat dread to see them, and their +rags and their misery and the weals of their stripes. It irked +me to see Dallach when he first fell to his meat last night, how he +ate like a dog for fear and famine. How shall it be, moreover, +when we have them in the Dale, and they fall to the deed of kind there, +as they needs must. Will they not bear us evil and thrall-like +men?’</p> +<p>‘Maybe,’ said Stone-face, ‘and maybe not; for they +have been thralls but for a little while: and I deem that in no long +time shall ye see them much bettered by plenteous meat and rest. +And after all is said, this Dallach bore him like a valiant man; also +it was valiant of him to flee; and of the others may ye say the like. +But look you! there are men going down yonder towards our lair: belike +those shall be our guests, and there be no Dusky Men amongst them. +Come, let us home!’</p> +<p>So Face-of-god looked and beheld from the height of the burg shapes +of men grey and colourless creeping toward the lair from sunshine to +shadow, like wild creatures shy and fearful of the hunter, or so he +deemed of them.</p> +<p>So he turned away, angry and sad of heart, and the twain went down +the burg and across the water to their camp, having seen little to tell +of from the height.</p> +<p>When they came to their campment there were their folk standing in +a ring round about Dallach and the other runaways. They made way +for the War-leader and Stone-face, who came amongst them and beheld +the Runaways, that they were many more than they looked to see; for +they were of carles one score and three, and of women eighteen, all +told save Dallach. When they saw those twain come through the +ring of men and perceived that they were chieftains, some of them fell +down on their knees before them and held out their joined hands to them, +and kissed the Burgdalers’ feet and the hems of their garments, +while the tears streamed out of their eyes: some stood moving little +and staring before them stupidly: and some kept glancing from face to +face of the well-liking happy Burgdale carles, though for a while even +their faces were sad and downcast at the sight of the poor men: some +also kept murmuring one or two words in their country tongue, and Dallach +told Face-of-god that these were crying out for victual.</p> +<p>It must be said of these poor folk that they were of divers conditions, +and chiefly of three: and first there were seven of Rose-dale and five +of Silver-dale late come to the wood (of these Silver-dalers Dallach +had told but of two, for the other three were but just come). +Of these twelve were seven women, and all, save two of the women, were +clad in one scanty kirtle or shirt only; for such was the wont of the +Dusky Men with their thralls. They had brought away weapons, and +had amongst them six axes and a spear, and a sword, and five knives, +and one man had a shield.</p> +<p>Yet though these were clad and armed, yet in some wise were they +the worst of all; they were so timorous and cringing, and most of them +heavy-eyed and sullen and down-looking. Many of them had been +grievously mishandled: one man had had his left hand smitten off; another +was docked of three of his toes, and the gristle of his nose slit up; +one was halt, and four had been ear-cropped, nor did any lack weals +of whipping. Of the Silver-dale new-comers the three men were +the worst of all the Runaways, with wild wandering eyes, but sullen +also, and cringing if any drew nigh, and would not look anyone in the +face, save presently Face-of-god, on whom they were soon fond to fawn, +as a dog on his master. But the women who were with them, and +who were well-nigh as timorous as the men, were those two gaily-dad +ones, and they were soft-handed and white-skinned, save for the last +days of weather in the wood; for they had been bed-thralls of the Dusky +Men.</p> +<p>Such were the new-comers to the wood. But others had been, +like Dallach, months therein; it may be said that there were eighteen +of these, carles and queens together. Little raiment they had +amongst them, and some were all but stark naked, so that on these might +well be seen as on Dallach the marks of old stripes, and of these also +were there men who had been shorn of some member or other, and they +were all burnt and blackened by the weather of the woodland; yet for +all their nakedness, they bore themselves bolder and more manlike than +the later comers, nor did they altogether lack weapons taken from their +foemen, and most of them had some edge-tool or another. Of these +folk were four from Silver-dale, though Dallach knew it not.</p> +<p>Besides these were a half score and one who had been years in the +wood instead of months; weather-beaten indeed were these, shaggy and +rough-skinned like wild men of kind. Some of them had made themselves +skin breeches or clouts, some went stark naked; of weapons of the Dale +had they few, but they bore bows of hazel or wych-elm strung with deer-gut, +and shafts headed with flint stones; staves also of the same fashion, +and great clubs of oak or holly: some of them also had made them targets +of skin and willow-twigs, for these were the warriors of the Runaways: +they had a few steel knives amongst them, but had mostly learned the +craft of using sharp flints for knives: but four of these were women.</p> +<p>Three of these men were of the kindreds of the Wolf from Silver-dale, +and had been in the wood for hard upon ten years, and wild as they were, +and without hope of meeting their fellows again, they went proudly and +boldly amongst the others, overtopping them by the head and more. +For the greater part of these men were somewhat short of stature, though +by nature strong and stout of body.</p> +<p>It must be told that though Dallach had thus gotten all these many +Runaways together, yet had they not been dwelling together as one folk; +for they durst not, lest the Dusky Men should hear thereof and fall +upon them, but they had kept themselves as best they could in caves +and in brakes three together or two, or even faring alone as Dallach +did: only as he was a strong and stout-hearted man, he went to and fro +and wandered about more than the others, so that he foregathered with +most of them and knew them. He said also that he doubted not but +that there were more Runaways in the wood, but these were all he could +come at. Divers who had fled had died from time to time, and some +had been caught and cruelly slain by their masters. They were +none of them old; the oldest, said Dallach, scant of forty winters, +though many from their aspect might have been old enough.</p> +<p>So Face-of-god looked and beheld all these poor people; and said +to himself, that he might well have dreaded that sight. For here +was he brought face to face with the Sorrow of the Earth, whereof he +had known nought heretofore, save it might be as a tale in a minstrel’s +song. And when he thought of the minutes that had made the hours, +and the hours that had made the days that these men had passed through, +his heart failed him, and he was dumb and might not speak, though he +perceived that the men of Burgdale looked for speech from him; but he +waved his hand to his folk, and they understood him, for they had heard +Dallach say that some of them were crying for victual. So they +set to work and dighted for them such meat as they had, and they set +them down on the grass and made themselves their carvers and serving-men, +and bade them eat what they would of such as there was. Yet, indeed, +it grieved the Burgdalers again to note how these folk were driven to +eat; for they themselves, though they were merry folk, were exceeding +courteous at table, and of great observance of manners: whereas these +poor Runaways ate, some of them like hungry dogs, and some hiding their +meat as if they feared it should be taken from them, and some cowering +over it like falcons, and scarce any with a manlike pleasure in their +meal. And, their eating over, the more part of them sat dull and +mopish, and as if all things were forgotten for the time present.</p> +<p>Albeit presently Dallach bestirred him and said to Face-of-god: ‘Lord +of the Earl-folk, if I might give thee rede, it were best to turn your +faces to Burgdale without more tarrying. For we are over-nigh +to Rose-dale, being but thus many in company. But when we come +to our next resting-place, then shall bring thee to speech with the +last-comers from Silver-dale; for there they talk with the tongue of +the kindreds; but we of Rose-dale for the more part talk otherwise; +though in my house it came down from father to son.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, gazing still on that unhappy +folk, as they sat or lay upon the grass at rest for a little while: +but him-seemed as he gazed that some memories of past time stirred in +some of them; for some, they hung their heads and the tears stole out +of their eyes and rolled down their cheeks. But those older Runaways +of Silver-dale were not crouched down like most of the others, but strode +up and down like beasts in a den; yet were the tears on the face of +one of these. Then Face-of-god constrained himself, and spake +to the folk, and said: ‘We are now over-nigh to our foes of Rose-dale +to lie here any longer, being too few to fall upon them. We will +come hither again with a host when we have duly questioned these men +who have sought refuge with us: and let us call yonder height the Burg +of the Runaways, and it shall be a landmark for us when we are on the +road to Rose-dale.’</p> +<p>Then the Burgdalers bade the Runaways courteously and kindly to arise +and take the road with them; and by that time were their men all come +in; and four of them had venison with them, which was needful, if they +were to eat that night or the morrow, as the guests had eaten them to +the bone.</p> +<p>So they tarried no more, but set out on the homeward way; and Face-of-god +bade Dallach walk beside him, and asked him such concerning Rose-dale +and its Dusky Men. Dallach told him that these were not so many +as they were masterful, not being above eight hundreds of men, all fighting-men. +As to women, they had none of their own race, but lay with the Daleswomen +at their will, and begat children of them; and all or most of the said +children favoured the race of their begetters. Of the men-children +they reared most, but the women-children they slew at once; for they +valued not women of their own blood: but besides the women of the Dale, +they would go at whiles in bands to the edges of the Plain and beguile +wayfarers, and bring back with them thence women to be their bed-thralls; +albeit some of these were bought with a price from the Westland men.</p> +<p>As to the number of the folk of Rose-dale, its own folk, he said +they would number some five thousand souls, one with another; of whom +some thousand might be fit to bear arms if they had the heart thereto, +as they had none. Yet being closely questioned, he deemed that +they might fall on their masters from behind, if battle were joined.</p> +<p>He said that the folk of Rose-dale had been a goodly folk before +they were enthralled, and peaceable with one another, but that now it +was a sport of the Dusky Men to set a match between their thralls to +fight it out with sword and buckler or otherwise; and the vanquished +man, if he were not sore hurt, they would scourge, or shear some member +from him, or even slay him outright, if the match between the owners +were so made. And many other sad and grievous tales he told to +Face-of-god, more than need be told again; so that the War-leader went +along sorry and angry, with his teeth set, and his hand on the sword-hilt.</p> +<p>Thus they went till night fell on them, and they could scarce see +the signs they had made on their outward journey. Then they made +stay in a little valley, having set a watch duly; and since they were +by this time far from Rose-dale, and were a great company as regarded +scattered bands of the foe, they lighted their fires and cooked their +venison, and made good cheer to the Runaways, and so went to sleep in +the wild-wood.</p> +<p>When morning was come they gat them at once to the road; and if the +Burgdalers were eager to be out of the wood, their eagerness was as +nought to the eagerness of the Runaways, most of whom could not be easy +now, and deemed every minute lost unless they were wending on to the +Dale; so that this day they were willing to get over the more ground, +whereas they had not set out on their road till afternoon yesterday.</p> +<p>Howsoever, they rested at noontide, and Face-of-god bade Dallach +bring him to speech with others of the Runaways, and first that he might +talk with those three men of the kindreds who had fled from Silver-dale +in early days. So Dallach brought them to him; but he found that +though they spake the tongue, they were so few-spoken from wildness +and loneliness, at least at first, that nought could come from them +that was not dragged from them.</p> +<p>These men said that they had been in the wood more than nine years, +so that they knew but little of the conditions of the Dale in that present +day. However, as to what Dallach had said concerning the Dusky +Men, they strengthened his words; and they said that the Dusky Men took +no delight save in beholding torments and misery, and that they doubted +if they were men or trolls. They said that since they had dwelt +in the wood they had slain not a few of the foemen, waylaying them as +occasion served, but that in this warfare they had lost two of their +fellows. When Face-of-god asked them of their deeming of the numbers +of the Dusky Men, they said that before those bands had broken into +Rose-dale, they counted them, as far as they could call to mind, at +about three thousand men, all warriors; and that somewhat less than +one thousand had gone up into Rose-dale, and some had died, and many +had been cast away in the wild-wood, their fellows knew not how. +Yet had not their numbers in Silver-dale diminished; because two years +after they (the speakers) had fled, came three more Dusky Companies +or Tribes into Silver-dale, and each of these tribes was of three long +hundreds; and with their coming had the cruelty and misery much increased +in the Dale, so that the thralls began to die fast; and that drave the +Dusky Men beyond the borders of Silver-dale, so that they fell upon +Rose-dale. When asked how many of the kindreds might yet be abiding +in Silver-dale, their faces clouded, and they seemed exceeding wroth, +and answered, that they would willingly hope that most of those that +had not been slain at the time of the overthrow were now dead, yet indeed +they feared there were yet some alive, and mayhappen not a few women.</p> +<p>By then must they get on foot again, and so the talk fell between +them; but when they made stay for the night, after they had done their +meat, Face-of-god prayed Dallach bring to him some of the latest-come +folk from Silver-dale, and he brought to him the man and the woman who +had been in the Dale within that moon. As to the man, if those +of the Earl-folk had been few-spoken from fierceness and wildness, he +was no less so from mere dulness and weariness of misery; but the woman’s +tongue went glibly enough, and it seemed to pleasure her to talk about +her past miseries. As aforesaid, she was better clad than most +of those of Rose-dale, and indeed might be called gaily clad, and where +her raiment was befouled or rent, it was from the roughness of the wood +and its weather, and not from the thralldom. She was a young and +fair woman, black-haired and grey-eyed. She had washed herself +that day in a woodland stream which they had crossed on the road, and +had arrayed her garments as trimly as she might, and had plucked some +fumitory, wherewith she had made a garland for her head. She sat +down on the grass in front of Face-of-god, while the man her mate stood +leaning against a tree and looked on her greedily. The Burgdale +carles drew near to her to hearken her story, and looked kindly on the +twain. She smiled on them, but especially on Face-of-god, and +said:</p> +<p>‘Thou hast sent for me, lord, and I wot well thou wouldst hear +my tale shortly, for it would be long to tell if I were to tell it fully, +and bring into it all that I have endured, which has been bitter enough, +for all that ye see me smooth of skin and well-liking of body. +I have been the bed-thrall of one of the chieftains of the Dusky Men, +at whose house many of their great men would assemble, so that ye may +ask me whatso ye will; as I have heard much talk and may call it to +mind. Now if ye ask me whether I have fled because of the shame +that I, a free woman come of free folk, should be a mere thrall in the +bed of the foes of my kin, and with no price paid for me, I must needs +say it is not so; since over long have we of the Dale been thralls to +be ashamed of such a matter. And again, if ye deem that I have +fled because I have been burdened with grievous toil and been driven +thereto by the whip, ye may look on my hands and my body and ye will +see that I have toiled little therewith: nor again did I flee because +I could not endure a few stripes now and again; for such usage do thralls +look for, even when they are delicately kept for the sake of the fairness +of their bodies, and this they may well endure; yea also, and the mere +fear of death by torment now and again. But before me lay death +both assured and horrible; so I took mine own counsel, and told none +for fear of bewrayal, save him who guarded me; and that was this man; +who fled not from fear, but from love of me, and to him I have given +all that I might give. So we got out of the house and down the +Dale by night and cloud, and hid for one whole day in the Dale itself, +where I trembled and feared, so that I deemed I should die of fear; +but this man was well pleased with my company, and with the lack of +toil and beating even for the day. And in the night again we fled +and reached the wild-wood before dawn, and well-nigh fell into the hands +of those who were hunting us, and had outgone us the day before, as +we lay hid. Well, what is to say? They saw us not, else +had we not been here, but scattered piece-meal over the land. +This carle knew the passes of the wood, because he had followed his +master therein, who was a great hunter in the wastes, contrary to the +wont of these men, and he had lain a night on the burg yonder; therefore +he brought me thither, because he knew that thereabout was plenty of +prey easy to take, and he had a bow with him; and there we fell in with +others of our folk who had fled before, and with Dallach; who e’en +now told us what was hard to believe, that there was a fair young man +like one of the Gods leading a band of goodly warriors, and seeking +for us to bring us into a peaceful and happy land; and this man would +not have gone with him because he feared that he might fall into thralldom +of other folk, who would take me away from him; but for me, I said I +would go in any case, for I was weary of the wood and its roughness +and toil, and that if I had a new master he would scarcely be worse +than my old one was at his best, and him I could endure. So I +went, and glad and glad I am, whatever ye will do with me. And +now will I answer whatso ye may ask of me.’</p> +<p>She laid her limbs together daintily and looked fondly on Face-of-god, +and the carle scowled at her somewhat at first, but presently, as he +watched her, his face smoothed itself out of its wrinkles.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god pondered a little while, and then asked the woman +if she had heard any words to remember of late days concerning the affairs +of the Dusky Men and their intent; and he said:</p> +<p>‘I pray thee, sister, be truthful in thine answer, for somewhat +lieth on it.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘How could I speak aught but the sooth to thee, O +lovely lord? The last word spoken hereof I mind me well: for my +master had been mishandling me, and I was sullen to him after the smart, +and he mocked and jeered me, and said: Ye women deem we cannot do without +you, but ye are fools, and know nothing; we are going to conquer a new +land where the women are plenty, and far fairer than ye be; and we shall +leave you to fare afield like the other thralls, or work in the digging +of silver; and belike ye wot what that meaneth. Also he said that +they would leave us to the new tribe of their folk, far wilder than +they, whom they looked for in the Dale in about a moon’s wearing; +so that they needs must seek to other lands. Also this same talk +would we hear whenever it pleased any of them to mock us their bed-thralls. +Now, my sweet lord, this is nought but the very sooth.’</p> +<p>Again spake Face-of-god after a while:</p> +<p>‘Tell me, sister, hast thou heard of any of the Dusky Men being +slain in the wood?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, and turned pale therewith and caught +her breath as one choking; but said in a little while:</p> +<p>‘This alone was it hard for me to tell thee amongst all the +I griefs I have borne, whereof I might have told thee many tales, and +will do one day if thou wilt suffer it; but fear makes this hard for +me. For in very sooth this was the cause of my fleeing, that my +master was brought in slain by an arrow in the wood; and he was to be +borne to bale and burned in three days’ wearing; and we three +bed-thralls of his, and three of the best of the men-thralls, were to +be burned quick on his bale-fire after sore torments; therefore I fled, +and hid a knife in my bosom, that I might not be taken alive; but sweet +was life to me, and belike I should not have smitten myself.’</p> +<p>And she wept sore for pity of herself before them all. But +Face-of-god said:</p> +<p>‘Knowest thou, sister, by whom the man was slain?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, still sobbing; ‘but I heard nought +thereof, nor had I noted it in my terror. The death of others, +who were slain before him, and the loss of many, we knew not how, made +them more bitterly cruel with us.’</p> +<p>And again was she weeping; but Face-of-god said kindly to her: ‘Weep +no more, sister, for now shall all thy troubles be over; I feel in my +heart that we shall overcome these felons, and make an end of them, +and there then is Burgdale for thee in its length and breadth, or thine +own Dale to dwell in freely.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘never will I go back thither!’ +and she turned round to him and kissed his feet, and then arose and +turned a little toward her mate; and the carle caught her by the hand +and led her away, and seemed glad so to do.</p> +<p>So once again they fell asleep in the woods, and again the next morning +fared on their way early that they might come into Burgdale before nightfall. +When they stayed a while at noontide and ate, Face-of-god again had +talk with the Runaways, and this time with those of Rose-dale, and he +heard much the same story from them that he had heard before, told in +divers ways, till his heart was sick with the hearing of it.</p> +<p>On this last day Face-of-god led his men well athwart the wood, so +that he hit Wildlake’s Way without coming to Carl-stead; and he +came down into the Dale some four hours after noon on a bright day of +latter March. At the ingate to the Dale he found watches set, +the men whereof told him that the tidings were not right great. +Hall-face’s company had fallen in with a band of the Felons three +score in number in the oak-wood nigh to Boars-bait, and had slain some +and chased the rest, since they found it hard to follow them home as +they ran for the tangled thicket: of the Burgdalers had two been slain +and five hurt in this battle.</p> +<p>As for Red-coat’s company, they had fallen in with no foemen.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX. THEY BRING THE RUNAWAYS TO BURGSTEAD</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>So now being out of the wood, they went peaceably and safely along +the Portway, the Runaways mingling with the Dalesmen. Strange +showed amidst the health and wealth of the Dale the rags and misery +and nakedness of the thralls, like a dream amidst the trim gaiety of +spring; and whomsoever they met, or came up with on the road, whatso +his business might be, could not refrain himself from following them, +but mingled with the men-at-arms, and asked them of the tidings; and +when they heard who these poor people were, even delivered thralls of +the Foemen, they were glad at heart and cried out for joy; and many +of the women, nay, of the men also, when they first came across that +misery from out the heart of their own pleasant life, wept for pity +and love of the poor folk, now at last set free, and blessed the swords +that should do the like by the whole people.</p> +<p>They went slowly as men began to gather about them; yea, some of +the good folk that lived hard by must needs fare home to their houses +to fetch cakes and wine for the guests; and they made them sit down +and rest on the green grass by the side of the Portway, and eat and +drink to cheer their hearts; others, women and young swains, while they +rested went down into the meadows and plucked of the spring flowers, +and twined them hastily with deft and well-wont fingers into chaplets +and garlands for their heads and bodies. Thus indeed they covered +their nakedness, till the lowering faces and weather-beaten skins of +those hardly-entreated thralls looked grimly out from amidst the knots +of cowslip and oxlip, and the branches of the milk-white blackthorn +bloom, and the long trumpets of the daffodils, of the hue that wrappeth +round the quill which the webster takes in hand when she would pleasure +her soul with the sight of the yellow growing upon the dark green web.</p> +<p>So they went on again as the evening was waning, and when they were +gotten within a furlong of the Gate, lo! there was come the minstrelsy, +the pipe and the tabor, the fiddle and the harp, and the folk that had +learned to sing the sweetest, both men and women, and Redesman at the +head of them all.</p> +<p>Then fell the throng into an ordered company; first went the music, +and then a score of Face-of-god’s warriors with drawn swords and +uplifted spears; and then the flower-bedecked misery of the Runaways, +men and women going together, gaunt, befouled, and hollow-eyed, with +here and there a flushed cheek or gleaming eye, or tear-bedewed face, +as the joy and triumph of the eve pierced through their wonted weariness +of grief; then the rest of the warriors, and lastly the mingled crowd +of Dalesfolk, tall men and fair women gaily arrayed, clean-faced, clear-skinned, +and sleek-haired, with glancing eyes and ruddy lips.</p> +<p>And now Redesman turned about to the music and drew his bow across +his fiddle, and the other bows ran out in concert, and the harps followed +the story of them, and he lifted up his voice and sang the words of +an old song, and all the singers joined him and blended their voices +with his. And these are some of the words which they sang:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Lo! here is Spring, and all we are living,<br /> We +that were wan with Winter’s fear;<br />Reach out your hands to +her hands that are giving,<br /> Lest ye lose her love +and the light of the year.</p> +<p>Many a morn did we wake to sorrow,<br /> When low +on the land the cloud-wrath lay;<br />Many an eve we feared to-morrow,<br /> The +unbegun unfinished day.</p> +<p>Ah we - we hoped not, and thou wert tardy;<br /> Nought +wert thou helping; nought we prayed.<br />Where was the eager heart, +the hardy?<br /> Where was the sweet-voiced unafraid?</p> +<p>But now thou lovest, now thou leadest,<br /> Where +is gone the grief of our minds?<br />What was the word of the tale, +that thou heedest<br /> E’en as the breath of +the bygone winds?</p> +<p>Green and green is thy garment growing<br /> Over +thy blossoming limbs beneath;<br />Up o’er our feet rise the blades +of thy sowing,<br /> Pierced are our hearts with thine +odorous breath.</p> +<p>But where art thou wending, thou new-comer?<br /> Hurrying +on to the Courts of the Sun?<br />Where art thou now in the House of +the Summer?<br /> Told are thy days and thy deed is +done.</p> +<p>Spring has been here for us that are living<br /> After +the days of Winter’s fear;<br />Here in our hands is the wealth +of her giving,<br /> The Love of the Earth, and the +Light of the Year.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Thus came they to the Gate, and lo! the Bride thereby, leaning against +a buttress, gazing with no dull eyes at the coming throng. She +was now clad in her woman’s attire again, to wit a light flame-coloured +gown over a green kirtle; but she yet bore a gilded helm on her head +and a sword girt to her side in token of her oath to the God. +She had been in Hall-face’s company in that last battle, and had +done a man’s service there, fighting very valiantly, but had not +been hurt, and had come back to Burgstead when the shift of men was.</p> +<p>Now she drew herself up and stood a little way before the Gate and +looked forth on the throng, and when her eyes beheld the Runaways amidst +of the weaponed carles of Burgdale, her face flushed, and her eyes filled +with tears as she stood, partly wondering, partly deeming what they +were. She waited till Stone-face came by her, and then she took +the old man by the sleeve, and drew him apart a little and said to him: +‘What meaneth this show, my friend? Who hath clad these +folk thus strangely; and who be these three naked tall ones, so fierce-looking, +but somewhat noble of aspect?’</p> +<p>For indeed those three men of the kindreds, when they had gotten +into the Dale, and had rested them, and drunk a cup of wine, and when +they had seen the chaplets and wreaths of the spring-flowers wherewith +they were bedecked, and had smelt the sweet savour of them, fell to +walking proudly, heeding not their nakedness; for no rag had they upon +them save breech-clouts of deer-skin: they had changed weapons with +the Burgdale carles; and one had gotten a great axe, which he bore over +his shoulder, and the shaft thereof was all done about with copper; +and another had shouldered a long heavy thrusting-spear, and the third, +an exceeding tall man, bore a long broad-bladed war-sword. Thus +they went, brown of skin beneath their flower-garlands, their long hair +bleached by the sun falling about their shoulders; high they strode +amongst the shuffling carles and tripping women of the later-come thralls. +But when they heard the music, and saw that they were coming to the +Gate in triumph, strange thoughts of old memories swelled up in their +hearts, and they refrained them not from weeping, for they felt that +the joy of life had come back to them.</p> +<p>Nor must it be deemed that these were the only ones amongst the Runaways +whose hearts were cheered and softened: already were many of them coming +back to life, as they felt their worn bodies caressed by the clear soft +air of Burgdale, and the sweetness of the flowers that hung about them, +and saw all round about the kind and happy faces of their well-willers.</p> +<p>So Stone-face looked on the Bride as she stood with face yet tear-bedewed, +awaiting his answer, and said:</p> +<p>‘Daughter, thou sayest who clad these folk thus? It was +misery that hath so dight them; and they are the images of what we shall +be if we love foul life better than fair death, and so fall into the +hands of the Felons, who were the masters of these men. As for +the tall naked men, they are of our own blood, and kinsmen to Face-of-god’s +new friends; and they are of the best of the vanquished: it was in early +days that they fled from thralldom; as we may have to do. Now, +daughter, I bid thee be as joyous as thou art valiant, and then shall +all be well.’</p> +<p>Therewith she smiled on him, and he departed, and she stood a little +while, as the throng moved on and was swallowed by the Gate, and looked +after them; and for all her pity for the other folk, she thought chiefly +of those fearless tall men who were of the blood of those with whom +it was lawful to wed.</p> +<p>There she stood as the wind dried the tears upon her cheeks, thinking +of the sorrow which these folk had endured, and their stripes and mocking, +their squalor and famine; and she wondered and looked on her own fair +and shapely hands with the precious finger-rings thereon, and on the +dainty cloth and trim broidery of her sleeve; and she touched her smooth +cheek with the back of her hand, and smiled, and felt the spring sweet +in her mouth, and its savour goodly in her nostrils; and therewith she +called to mind the aspect of her lovely body, as whiles she had seen +it imaged, all its full measure, in the clear pool at midsummer, or +piece-meal, in the shining steel of the Westland mirror. She thought +also with what joy she drew the breath of life, yea, even amidst of +grief, and of how sweet and pure and well-nurtured she was, and how +well beloved of many friends and the whole folk, and she set all this +beside those woeful bodies and lowering faces, and felt shame of her +sorrow of heart, and the pain it had brought to her; and ever amidst +shame and pity of all that misery rose up before her the images of those +tall fierce men, and it seemed to her as if she had seen something like +to them in some dream or imagination of her mind.</p> +<p>So came the Burgdalers and their guests into the street of Burgstead +amidst music and singing; and the throng was great there. Then +Face-of-god bade make a ring about the strangers, and they did so, and +he and the Runaways alone were in the midst of it; and he spake in a +loud voice and said:</p> +<p>‘Men of the Dale and the Burg, these folk whom here ye see +in such a sorry plight are they whom our deadly foes have rejoiced to +torment; let us therefore rejoice to cherish them. Now let those +men come forth who deem that they have enough and more, so that they +may each take into their houses some two or three of these friends such +as would be fain to be together. And since I am War-leader, and +have the right hereto, I will first choose them whom I will lead into +the House of the Face. And lo you! will I have this man (and he +laid his hand on Dallach),who is he whom I first came across, and who +found us all these others, and next I will have yonder tall carles, +the three of them, because I perceive them to be men meet to be with +a War-leader, and to follow him in battle.’</p> +<p>Therewith he drew the three Men of the Wolf towards him, but Dallach +already was standing beside him. And folk rejoiced in Face-of-god.</p> +<p>But the Bride came forward next, and spake to him meekly and simply:</p> +<p>‘War-leader, let me have of the women those who need me most, +that I may bring them to the House of the Steer, and try if there be +not some good days yet to be found for them, wherein they shall but +remember the past grief as an ugly dream.’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god looked on her, and him-seemed he had never seen +her so fair; and all the shame wherewith he had beheld her of late was +gone from him, and his heart ran over with friendly love towards her +as she looked into his face with kindly eyes; and he said:</p> +<p>‘Kinswoman, take thy choice as thy kindness biddeth, and happy +shall they be whom thou choosest.’</p> +<p>She bowed her head soberly, and chose from among the guests four +women of the saddest and most grievous, and no man of their kindred +spake for going along with them; then she went her ways home, leading +one of them by the hand, and strange was it to see those twain going +through sun and shade together, that poor wretch along with the goodliest +of women.</p> +<p>Then came forward one after other of the worthy goodmen of the Dale, +and especially such as were old, and they led away one one man, and +another two, and another three, and often would a man crave to go with +a woman or a woman with a man, and it was not gainsaid them. So +were all the guests apportioned, and ill-content were those goodmen +that had to depart without a guest; and one man would say to another: +‘Such-an-one, be not downcast; this guest shall be between us, +if he will, and shall dwell with thee and me month about; but this first +month with me, since I was first comer.’ And so forth was +it said.</p> +<p>Now to prevent the time to come, it may be said about the Runaways, +that when they had been a little while amongst the Burgdalers, well +fed and well clad and kindly cherished, it was marvellous how they were +bettered in aspect of body, and it began to be seen of them that they +were well-favoured people, and divers of the women exceeding goodly, +black-haired and grey-eyed, and very clear-skinned and white-skinned; +most of them were young, and the oldest had not seen above forty winters. +They of Rose-dale, and especially such as had first fled away to the +wood, were very soon seen to be merry and kindly folk; but they who +had been longest in captivity, and notably those from Silver-dale who +were not of the kindreds, were for a long time sullen and heavy, and +it availed little to trust to them for the doing of work; albeit they +would follow about their friends of Burgdale with the love of a dog; +also they were, divers of them, somewhat thievish, and if they lacked +anything would liefer take it by stealth than ask for it; which forsooth +the Burgdale men took not amiss, but deemed of it as a jest rather.</p> +<p>Very few of the Runaways had any will to fare back to their old homes, +or indeed could be got to go into the wood, or, after a day or two, +to say any word of Rose-dale or Silver-dale. In this and other +matters the Burgdalers dealt with them as with children who must have +their way; for they deemed that their guests had much time to make up; +also they were well content when they saw how goodly they were, for +these Dalesmen loved to see men goodly of body and of a cheerful countenance.</p> +<p>As for Dallach and the three Silver-dale men of the kindred, they +went gladly whereas the Burgdale men would have them; and half a score +others took weapons in their hands when the war was foughten: concerning +which more hereafter.</p> +<p>But on the even whereof the tale now tells, Face-of-god and Stone-face +and their company met after nightfall in the Hall of the Face clad in +glorious raiment, and therewith were Dallach and the men of Silver-dale, +washen and docked of their long hair, after the fashion of warriors +who bear the helm; and they were clad in gay attire, with battle-swords +girt to their sides and gold rings on their arms. Somewhat stern +and sad-eyed were those Silver-dalers yet, though they looked on those +about them kindly and courteously when they met their eyes; and Face-of-god +yearned towards them when he called to mind the beauty and wisdom and +loving-kindness of the Sun-beam. They were, as aforesaid, strong +men and tall, and one of them taller than any amidst that house of tall +men. Their names were Wolf-stone, the tallest, and God-swain, +and Spear-fist; and God-swain the youngest was of thirty winters, and +Wolf-stone of forty. They came into the Hall in such wise, that +when they were washed and attired, and all men were assembled in the +Hall, and the Alderman and the chieftains sitting on the daïs, +Face-of-god brought them in from the out-bower, holding Dallach by the +right hand and Wolf-stone by the left; and he looked but a stripling +beside that huge man.</p> +<p>And when the men in the Hall beheld such goodly warriors, and remembered +their grief late past, they all stood up and shouted for joy of them. +But Face-of-god passed up the Hall with them, and stood before the daïs +and said:</p> +<p>‘O Alderman of the Dale and Chief of the House of the Face, +here I bring to you the foes of our foemen, whom I have met in the Wild-wood, +and bidden to our House; and meseemeth they will be our friends, and +stand beside us in the day of battle. Therefore I say, take these +guests and me together, or put us all to the door together; and if thou +wilt take them, then show them to such places as thou deemest meet.’</p> +<p>Then stood up the Alderman and said:</p> +<p>‘Men of Silver-dale and Rose-dale, I bid you welcome! +Be ye our friends, and abide here with us as long as seemeth good to +you, and share in all that is ours. Son Face-of-god, show these +warriors to seats on the daïs beside thee, and cherish them as +well as thou knowest how.’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god brought them up on to the daïs and sat down +on the right hand of his father, with Dallach on his right hand, and +then Wolf-stone out from him; then sat Stone-face, that there might +be a man of the Dale to talk with them and serve them; and on his right +hand first Spear-fist and then God-swain. And when they were all +sat down, and the meat was on the board, Iron-face turned to his son +Face-of-god and took his hand, and said in a loud voice, so that many +might hear him:</p> +<p>‘Son Face-of-god, son Gold-mane, thou bearest with thee both +ill luck and good. Erewhile, when thou wanderedst out into the +Wild-wood, seeking thou knewest not what from out of the Land of Dreams, +thou didst but bring aback to us grief and shame; but now that thou +hast gone forth with the neighbours seeking thy foemen, thou hast come +aback to us with thine hands full of honour and joy for us, and we thank +thee for thy gifts, and I call thee a lucky man. Herewith, kinsman, +I drink to thee and the lasting of thy luck.’</p> +<p>Therewith he stood up and drank the health of the War-leader and +the Guests: and all men were exceeding joyous thereat, when they called +to mind his wrath at the Gate-thing, and they shouted for gladness as +they drank that health, and the feast became exceeding merry in the +House of the Face; and as to the war to come, it seemed to them as if +it were over and done in all triumph.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXX. HALL-FACE GOETH TOWARD ROSE-DALE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>On the morrow Face-of-god took counsel with Hall-face and Stone-face +as to what were best to be done, and they sat on the daïs in the +Hall to talk it over.</p> +<p>Short was the time that had worn since that day in Shadowy Vale, +for it was but eight days since then; yet so many things had befallen +in that time, and, to speak shortly, the outlook for the Burgdalers +had changed so much, that the time seemed long to all the three, and +especially to Face-of-god.</p> +<p>It was yet twenty days till the Great Folk-mote should beholden, +and to Hall-face the time seemed long enough to do somewhat, and he +deemed it were good to gather force and fall on the Dusky Men in Rose-dale, +since now they had gotten men who could lead them the nighest way and +by the safest passes, and who knew all the ways of the foemen. +But to Stone-face this rede seemed not so good; for they would have +to go and come back, and fight and conquer, in less time than twenty +days, or be belated of the Folk-mote, and meanwhile much might happen.</p> +<p>‘For,’ said Stone-face, ‘we may deem the fighting-men +of Rose-dale to be little less than one thousand, and however we fall +on them, even if it be unawares at first, they shall fight stubbornly; +so that we may not send against them many less than they be, and that +shall strip Burgdale of its fighting-men, so that whatever befalls, +we that be left shall have to bide at home.’</p> +<p>Now was Face-of-god of the same mind as Stone-face; and he said moreover: +‘When we go to Rose-dale we must abide there a while unless we +be overthrown. For if ye conquer it and come away at once, presently +shall the tidings come to the ears of the Dusky Men in Silver-dale, +and they shall join themselves to those of Rose-dale who have fled before +you, and between them they shall destroy the unhappy people therein; +for ye cannot take them all away with you: and that shall they do all +the more now, when they look to have new thralls in Burgdale, both men +and women. And this we may not suffer, but must abide till we +have met all our foemen and have overcome them, so that the poor folk +there shall be safe from them till they have learned how to defend their +dale. Now my rede is, that we send out the War-arrow at once up +and down the Dale, and to the Shepherds and Woodlanders, and appoint +a day for the Muster and Weapon-show of all our Folk, and that day to +be the day before the Spring Market, that is to say, four days before +the Great Folk-mote, and meantime that we keep sure watch about the +border of the wood, and now and again scour the wood, so as to clear +the Dale of their wandering bands.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Hall-face; ‘and I pray thee, brother, +let me have an hundred of men and thy Dallach, and let us go somewhat +deep into the wood towards Rose-dale, and see what we may come across; +peradventure it might be something better than hart or wild-swine.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘I see no harm therein, if Dallach goeth +with thee freely; for I will have no force put on him or any other of +the Runaways. Yet meseemeth it were not ill for thee to find the +road to Rose-dale; for I have it in my mind to send a company thither +to give those Rose-dale man-quellers somewhat to do at home when we +fall upon Silver-dale. Therefore go find Dallach, and get thy +men together at once; for the sooner thou art gone on thy way the better. +But this I bid thee, go no further than three days out, that ye may +be back home betimes.’</p> +<p>At this word Hall-face’s eyes gleamed with joy, and he went +out from the Hall straightway and sought Dallach, and found him at the +Gate. Iron-face had given him a new sword, a good one, and had +bidden him call it Thicket-clearer, and he would not leave it any moment +of the day or night, but would lay it under his pillow at night as a +child does with a new toy; and now he was leaning against a buttress +and drawing the said sword half out of the scabbard and poring over +its blade, which was indeed fair enough, being wrought with dark grey +waving lines like the eddies of the Weltering Water.</p> +<p>So Hall-face greeted him, and smiled and said:</p> +<p>‘Guest, if thou wilt, thou may’st take that new blade +of my father’s work which thou lovest so, a journey which shall +rejoice it.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Dallach, ‘I suppose that thou wouldest +fare on thy brother’s footsteps, and deemest that I am the man +to lead thee on the road, and even farther than he went; and though +it might be thought by some that I have seen enough of Rose-dale and +the parts thereabout for one while, yet will I go with thee; for now +am I a man again, body and soul.’</p> +<p>And therewith he drew Thicket-clearer right out of his sheath and +waved him in the air. And Hall-face was glad of him and said he +was well apaid of his help. So they went away together to gather +men, and on the morrow Hall-face departed and went into the Wild-wood +with Dallach and an hundred and two score men.</p> +<p>But as for Face-of-god, he fared up and down the Dale following the +War-arrow, and went into all houses, and talked with the folk, both +young and old, men and women, and told them closely all that had betid +and all that was like to betide; and he was well pleased with that which +he saw and heard; for all took his words well, and were nought afeard +or dismayed by the tidings; and he saw that they would not hang aback. +Meantime the days wore, and Hall-face came not back till the seventh +day, and he brought with him twelve more Runaways, of whom five were +women. But he had lost four men, and had with him Dallach and +five others of the Dalesmen borne upon litters sore hurt; and this was +his story:</p> +<p>They got to the Burg of the Runaways on the forenoon of the third +day, and thereby came on five carles of the Runaways - men who had missed +meeting Dallach that other day, but knew what had been done; for one +of them had been sick and could not come with him, and he had told the +others: so now they were hanging about the Burg of the Runaways hoping +somewhat that he might come again; and they met the Burgdalers full +of joy, and brought them trouts that they had caught in the river.</p> +<p>As for the other runaways, namely, five women and two more carles +- they had gotten them close to the entrance into Silver-dale, where +by night and cloud they came on a campment of the Dusky Men, who were +leading home these seven poor wretches, runaways whom they had caught, +that they might slay them most evilly in Rose-stead. So Hall-face +fell on the Dusky Men, and delivered their captives, but slew not all +the foe, and they that fled brought pursuers on them who came up with +them the next day, so near was Rose-dale, though they made all diligence +homeward. The Burgdalers must needs turn and fight with those +pursuers, and at last they drave them aback so that they might go on +their ways home. They let not the grass grow beneath their feet +thereafter, till they were assured by meeting a band of the Woodlanders, +who had gone forth to help them, and with whom they rested a little. +But neither so were they quite done with the foemen, who came upon them +next day a very many: these however they and the Woodlanders, who were +all fresh and unwounded and very valiant, speedily put to the worse; +and so they came on to Burgstead, leaving those of them who were sorest +hurt to be tended by the Woodlanders at Carlstead, who, as might be +looked for, deal with them very lovingly.</p> +<p>It was in the first fight that they suffered that loss of slain and +wounded; and therein the newly delivered thralls fought valiantly against +their masters: as for Dallach, it was no marvel, said Hall-face, that +he was hurt; but rather a marvel that he was not slain, so little he +recked of point and edge, if he might but slay the foemen.</p> +<p>Such was Hall-face’s-tale; and Face-of-god deemed that he had +done unwisely to let him go that journey; for the slaying of a few Dusky +Men was but a light gain to set against the loss of so many Burgdalers; +yet was he glad of the deliverance of those Runaways, and deemed it +a gain indeed. But henceforth would he hold all still till he +should have tidings of Folk-might; so nought was done thereafter save +the warding of the Dale, from the country of the Shepherds to the Waste +above the Eastern passes.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god himself went up amongst the Shepherds, and abode +with a goodman hight Hound-under-Greenbury, who gathered to him the +folk from the country-side, and they went up on to Greenbury, and sat +on the green grass while he spoke with them and told them, as he had +told the others, what had been done and what should be done. And +they heard him gladly, and he deemed that there would be no blenching +in them, for they were all in one tale to live and die with their friends +of Burgdale, and they said that they would have no other word save that +to bear to the Great Folk-mote.</p> +<p>So he went away well-pleased, and he fared on thence to the Woodlanders, +and guested at the house of a valiant man hight Wargrove, who on the +morrow morn called the folk together to a green lawn of the Wild-wood, +so that there was scarce a soul of them that was not there. Then +he laid the whole matter before them; and if the Dalesmen had been merry +and ready, and the Shepherds stout-hearted and friendly, yet were the +Wood-landers more eager still, so that every hour seemed long to them +till they stood in their war-gear; and they told him that now at last +was the hour drawing nigh which they had dreamed of, but had scarce +dared to hope for, when the lost way should be found, and the crooked +made straight, and that which had been broken should be mended; that +their meat and drink, and sleeping and waking, and all that they did +were now become to them but the means of living till the day was come +whereon the two remnants of the children of the Wolf should meet and +become one Folk to live or die together.</p> +<p>Then went Face-of-god back to Burgstead again, and as he stood anigh +the Thing-stead once more, and looked down on the Dale as he had beheld +it last autumn, he bethought him that with all that had been done and +all that had been promised, the earth was clearing of her trouble, and +that now there was nought betwixt him and the happy days of life which +the Dale should give to the dwellers therein, save the gathering hosts +of the battle-field and the day when the last word should be spoken +and the first stroke smitten. So he went down on to the Portway +well content.</p> +<p>Thereafter till the day of the Weapon-show there is nought to tell +of, save that Dallach and the other wounded men began to grow whole +again; and all men sat at home, or went on the woodland ward, expecting +great tidings after the holding of the Folk-mote.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXI. OF THE WEAPON-SHOW OF THE MEN OF BURGDALE AND +THEIR NEIGHBOURS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Now on the day appointed for the Weapon-show came the Folk flock-meal +to the great and wide meadow that was cleft by Wildlake as it ran to +join the Weltering Water. Early in the morning, even before sunrise, +had the wains full of women and children begun to come thither. +Also there came little horses and asses from the Shepherd country with +one or two or three damsels or children sitting on each, and by wain-side +or by beast strode the men of the house, merry and fair in their war-gear. +The Woodlanders, moreover, man and woman, elder and swain and young +damsel, streamed out of the wood from Carlstead, eager to make the day +begin before the sunrise, and end before his setting.</p> +<p>Then all men fell to pitching of tents and tilting over of wains; +for the April sun was hot in the Dale, and when he arose the meads were +gay with more than the spring flowers; for the tents and the tilts were +stained and broidered with many colours, and there was none who had +not furbished up his war-gear so that all shone and glittered. +And many wore gay surcoats over their armour, and the women were clad +in all their bravery, and the Houses mostly of a suit; for one bore +blue and another corn-colour, and another green, and another brazil, +and so forth, and all gleaming and glowing with broidery of gold and +bright hues. But the women of the Shepherds were all clad in white, +embroidered with green boughs and red blossoms, and the Woodland women +wore dark red kirtles. Moreover, the women had set garlands of +flowers on their heads and the helms of the men, and for the most part +they were slim of body and tall and light-limbed, and as dainty to look +upon as the willow-boughs that waved on the brook-side.</p> +<p>Thither had the goodmen who were guesting the Runaways brought their +guests, even now much bettered by their new soft days; and much the +poor folk marvelled at all this joyance, and they scarce knew where +they were; but to some it brought back to their minds days of joyance +before the thralldom and all that they had lost, so that their hearts +were heavy a while, till they saw the warriors of the kindreds streaming +into the mead and bethought them why they carried steel.</p> +<p>Now by then the sun was fully up there was a great throng on the +Portway, and this was the folk of the Burg on their way to the Weapon-mead. +The men-at-arms were in the midst of the throng, and at the head of +them was the War-leader, with the banner of the Face before him, wherein +was done the image of the God with the ray-ringed head. But at +the rearward of the warriors went the Alderman and the Burg-wardens, +before whom was borne the banner of the Burg pictured with the Gate +and its Towers; but in the midst betwixt those two was the banner of +the Steer, a white beast on a green field.</p> +<p>So when the Dale-wardens who were down in the meadow heard the music +and beheld who were coming, they bade the companies of the Dale and +the Shepherds and the Woodlanders who were down there to pitch their +banners in a half circle about the ingle of the meadow which was made +by the streams of Wildlake and the Weltering Water, and gather to them +to be ordered there under their leaders of scores and half-hundreds +and hundreds; and even so they did. But the banners of the Dale +without the Burg were the Bridge, and the Bull, and the Vine, and the +Sickle. And the Shepherds had three banners, to wit Greenbury, +and the Fleece, and the Thorn.</p> +<p>As for the Woodlanders, they said that they were abiding their great +banner, but it should come in good time; ‘and meantime,’ +said they, ‘here are the war-tokens that we shall fight under; +for they are good enough banners for us poor men, the remnant of the +valiant of time past.’ Therewith they showed two great spears, +and athwart the one was tied an arrow, its point dipped in blood, its +feathers singed with fire; and they said, ‘This is the banner +of the War-shaft.’</p> +<p>On the other spear there was nought; but the head thereof was great +and long, and they had so burnished the steel that the sun smote out +a ray of light from it, so that it might be seen from afar. And +they said: ‘This is the Banner of the Spear! Down yonder +where the ravens are gathering ye shall see a banner flying over us. +There shall fall many a mother’s son.’</p> +<p>Smiled the Dale-wardens, and said that these were good banners to +fight under; and those that stood nearby shouted for the valiancy of +the Woodland Carles.</p> +<p>Now the Dale-wardens went to the entrance from the Portway to the +meadow, and there met the Men of the Burg, and two of them went one +on either side of the War-leader to show him to his seat, and the others +abode till the Alderman and Burg-wardens came up, and then joined themselves +to them, and the horns blew up both in the meadow and on the road, and +the new-comers went their ways to their appointed places amidst the +shouts of the Dalesmen; and the women and children and old men from +the Burg followed after, till all the mead was covered with bright raiment +and glittering gear, save within the ring of men at the further end.</p> +<p>So came the War-leader to his seat of green turf raised in the ingle +aforesaid; and he stood beside it till the Alderman and Wardens had +taken their places on a seat behind him raised higher than his; below +him on the step of his seat sat the Scrivener with his pen and ink-horn +and scroll of parchment, and men had brought him a smooth shield whereon +to write.</p> +<p>On the left side of Face-of-god stood the men of the Face all glittering +in their arms, and amongst them were Wolf-stone and his two fellows, +but Dallach was not yet whole of his hurts. On his right were +the folk of the House of the Steer: the leader of that House was an +old white-bearded man, grandfather of the Bride, for her father was +dead; and who but the Bride herself stood beside him in her glorious +war-gear, looking as if she were new come from the City of the Gods, +thought most men; but those who beheld her closely deemed that she looked +heavy-eyed and haggard, as if she were aweary. Nevertheless, wheresoever +she passed, and whosoever looked on her (and all men looked on her), +there arose a murmur of praise and love; and the women, and especially +the young ones, said how fair her deed was, and how meet she was for +it; and some of them were for doing on war-gear and faring to battle +with the carles; and of these some were sober and solemn, as was well +seen afterwards, and some spake lightly: some also fell to boasting +of how they could run and climb and swim and shoot in the bow, and fell +to baring of their arms to show how strong they were: and indeed they +were no weaklings, though their arms were fair.</p> +<p>There then stood the ring of men, each company under its banner; +and beyond them stood the women and children and men unmeet for battle; +and beyond them again the tilted wains and the tents.</p> +<p>Now Face-of-god sat him down on the turf-seat with his bright helm +on his head and his naked sword across his knees, while the horns blew +up loudly, and when they had done, the elder of the Dale-wardens cried +out for silence. Then again arose Face-of-god and said:</p> +<p>‘Men of the Dale, and ye friends of the Shepherds, and ye, +O valiant Woodlanders; we are not assembled here to take counsel, for +in three days’ time shall the Great Folk-mote be holden, whereat +shall be counsel enough. But since I have been appointed your +Chief and War-leader, till such time as the Folk-mote shall either yeasay +or naysay my leadership, I have sent for you that we may look each other +in the face and number our host and behold our weapons, and see if we +be meet for battle and for the dealing with a great host of foemen. +For now no longer can it be said that we are going to war, but rather +that war is on our borders, and we are blended with it; as many have +learned to their cost; for some have been slain and some sorely hurt. +Therefore I bid you now, all ye that are weaponed, wend past us that +the tale of you may be taken. But first let every hundred-leader +and half-hundred-leader and score-leader make sure that he hath his +tale aright, and give his word to the captain of his banner that he +in turn may give it out to the Scrivener with his name and the House +and Company that he leadeth.’</p> +<p>So he spake and sat him adown; and the horns blew again in token +that the companies should go past; and the first that came was Hall-ward +of the House of the Steer, and the first of those that went after him +was the Bride, going as if she were his son.</p> +<p>So he cried out his name, and the name of his House, and said, ‘An +hundred and a half,’ and passed forth, his men following him in +most goodly array. Each man was girt with a good sword and bore +a long heavy spear over his shoulder, save a score who bare bows; and +no man lacked a helm, a shield, and a coat of fence.</p> +<p>Then came a goodly man of thirty winters, and stayed before the Scrivener +and cried out:</p> +<p>‘Write down the House of the Bridge of the Upper Dale at one +hundred, and War-well their leader.’</p> +<p>And he strode on, and his men followed clad and weaponed like those +of the Steer, save that some had axes hanging to their girdles instead +of swords; and most bore casting-spears instead of the long spears, +and half a score were bowmen.</p> +<p>Then came Fox of Upton leading the men of the Bull of Middale, an +hundred and a half lacking two; very great and tall were his men, and +they also bore long spears, and one score and two were bowmen.</p> +<p>Then Fork-beard of Lea, a man well on in years, led on the men of +the Vine, an hundred and a half and five men thereto; two score of them +bare bow in hand and were girt with sword; the rest bore their swords +naked in their right hands, and their shields (which were but small +bucklers) hanging at their backs, and in the left hand each bore two +casting-spears. With these went two doughty women-at-arms among +the bowmen, tall and well-knit, already growing brown with the spring +sun, for their work lay among the stocks of the vines on the southward-looking +bents.</p> +<p>Next came a tall young man, yellow-haired, with a thin red beard, +and gave himself out for Red-beard of the Knolls; he bore his father’s +name, as the custom of their house was, but the old man, who had long +been head man of the House of the Sickle, was late dead in his bed, +and the young man had not seen twenty winters. He bade the Scrivener +write the tale of the Men of the Sickle at an hundred and a half, and +his folk fared past the War-leader joyously, being one half of them +bowmen; and fell shooters they were; the other half were girt with swords, +and bore withal long ashen staves armed with great blades curved inwards, +which weapon they called heft-sax.</p> +<p>All these bands, as the name and the tale of them was declared were +greeted with loud shouts from their fellows and the bystanders; but +now arose a greater shout still, as Stone-face, clad in goodly glittering +array, came forth and said:</p> +<p>‘I am Stone-face of the House of the Face, and I bring with +me two hundreds of men with their best war-gear and weapons: write it +down, Scrivener!’</p> +<p>And he strode on like a young man after those who had gone past, +and after him came the tall Hall-face and his men, a gallant sight to +see: two score bowmen girt with swords, and the others with naked swords +waving aloft, and each bearing two casting-spears in his left hand.</p> +<p>Then came a man of middle age, broad-shouldered, yellow-haired, blue-eyed, +of wide and ruddy countenance, and after him a goodly company; and again +great was the shout that went up to the heavens; for he said:</p> +<p>‘Scrivener, write down that Hound-under-Greenbury, from amongst +the dwellers in the hills where the sheep feed, leadeth the men who +go under the banner of Greenbury, to the tale of an hundred and four +score.’</p> +<p>Therewith he passed on, and his men followed, stout, stark, and merry-faced, +girt with swords, and bearing over their shoulders long-staved axes, +and spears not so long as those which the Dalesmen bore; and they had +but a half score of arrow-shot with them.</p> +<p>Next came a young man, blue-eyed also, with hair the colour of flax +on the distaff, broad-faced and short-nosed, low of stature, but very +strong-built, who cried out in a loud, cheerful voice:</p> +<p>‘I am Strongitharm of the Shepherds, and these valiant men +are of the Fleece and the Thorn blended together, for so they would +have it; and their tale is one hundred and two score and ten.’</p> +<p>Then the men of those kindreds went past merry and shouting, and +they were clad and weaponed like to them of Greenbury, but had with +them a score of bowmen. And all these Shepherd-folk wore over +their hauberks white woollen surcoats broidered with green and red.</p> +<p>Now again uprose the cry, and there stood before the War-leader a +very tall man of fifty winters, dark-faced and grey-eyed, and he spake +slowly and somewhat softly, and said:</p> +<p>‘War-leader, this is Red-wolf of the Woodlanders leading the +men who go under the sign of the War-shaft, to the number of an hundred +and two.’</p> +<p>Then he passed on, and his men after him, tall, lean, and silent +amidst the shouting. All these men bare bows, for they were keen +hunters; each had at his girdle a little axe and a wood-knife, and some +had long swords withal. They wore, everyone of the carles, short +green surcoats over their coats of fence; but amongst them were three +women who bore like weapons to the men, but were clad in red kirtles +under their hauberks, which were of good ring-mail gleaming over them +from throat to knee.</p> +<p>Last came another tall man, but young, of twenty-five winters, and +spake:</p> +<p>‘Scrivener, I am Bears-bane of the Woodlanders, and these that +come after me wend under the sign of the Spear, and they are of the +tale of one hundred and seven.’</p> +<p>And he passed by at once, and his men followed him, clad and weaponed +no otherwise than they of the War-shaft, and with them were two women.</p> +<p>Now went all those companies back to their banners, and stood there; +and there arose among the bystanders much talk concerning the Weapon-show, +and who were the best arrayed of the Houses. And of the old men, +some spake of past weapon-shows which they had seen in their youth, +and they set them beside this one, and praised and blamed. So +it went on a little while till the horns blew again, and once more there +was silence. Then arose Face-of-god and said:</p> +<p>‘Men of Burgdale, and ye Shepherd-folk, and ye of the Woodland, +now shall ye wot how many weaponed men we may bring together for this +war. Scrivener, arise and give forth the tale of the companies, +as they have been told unto you.’</p> +<p>Then the Scrivener stood up on the turf-bench beside Face-of-god, +and spake in a loud voice, reading from his scroll:</p> +<p>‘Of the Men of Burgdale there have passed by me nine hundreds +and six; of the Shepherds three hundreds and eight and ten; and of the +Woodlanders two hundreds and nine; so that all told our men are fourteen +hundreds and thirty and three.’</p> +<p>Now in those days men reckoned by long hundreds, so that the whole +tale of the host was one thousand, five hundred, and four score and +one, telling the tale in short hundreds.</p> +<p>When the tale had been given forth and heard, men shouted again, +and they rejoiced that they were so many. For it exceeded the +reckoning which the Alderman had given out at the Gate-thing. +But Face-of-god said:</p> +<p>‘Neighbours, we have held our Weapon-show; but now hold you +ready, each man, for the Hosting toward very battle; for belike within +seven days shall the leaders of hundreds and twenties summon you to +be ready in arms to take whatso fortune may befall. Now is sundered +the Weapon-show. Be ye as merry to-day as your hearts bid you +to be.’</p> +<p>Therewith he came down from his seat with the Alderman and the Wardens, +and they mingled with the good folk of the Dale and the Shepherds and +the Woodlanders, and merry was their converse there. It yet lacked +an hour of noon; so presently they fell to and feasted in the green +meadow, drinking from wain to wain and from tent to tent; and thereafter +they played and sported in the meads, shooting at the butts and wrestling, +and trying other masteries. Then they fell to dancing one and +all, and so at last to supper on the green grass in great merriment. +Nor might you have known from the demeanour of any that any threat of +evil overhung the Dale. Nay, so glad were they, and so friendly, +that you might rather have deemed that this was the land whereof tales +tell, wherein people die not, but live for ever, without growing any +older than when they first come thither, unless they be born into the +land itself, and then they grow into fair manhood, and so abide. +In sooth, both the land and the folk were fair enough to be that land +and the folk thereof.</p> +<p>But a little after sunset they sundered, and some fared home; but +many of them abode in the tents and tilted wains, because the morrow +was the first day of the Spring Market: and already were some of the +Westland chapmen come; yea, two of them were with the bystanders in +the meadow; and more were looked for ere the night was far spent.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXII. THE MEN OF SHADOWY VALE COME TO THE SPRING +MARKET AT BURGSTEAD</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>On the morrow betimes in the morning the Westland chapmen, who were +now all come, went out from the House of the Face, where they were ever +wont to be lodged, and set up their booths adown the street betwixt +gate and bridge. Gay was the show; for the booths were tilted +over with painted cloths, and the merchants themselves were clad in +long gowns of fine cloth; scarlet, and blue, and white, and green, and +black, with broidered welts of gold and silver; and their knaves were +gaily attired in short coats of divers hues, with silver rings about +their arms, and short swords girt to their sides. People began +to gather about these chapmen at once when they fell to opening their +bales and their packs, and unloading their wains. There had they +iron, both in pigs and forged scrap and nails; steel they had, and silver, +both in ingots and vessel; pearls from over sea; cinnabar and other +colours for staining, such as were not in the mountains: madder from +the marshes, and purple of the sea, and scarlet grain from the holm-oaks +by its edge, and woad from the deep clayey fields of the plain; silken +thread also from the outer ocean, and rare webs of silk, and jars of +olive oil, and fine pottery, and scented woods, and sugar of the cane. +But gold they had none with them, for that they took there; and for +weapons, save a few silver-gilt toys, they had no market.</p> +<p>So presently they fell to chaffer; for the carles brought them little +bags of the river-borne gold, so that the weights and scales were at +work; others had with them scrolls and tallies to tell the number of +the beasts which they had to sell, and the chapmen gave them wares therefor +without beholding the beasts; for they wotted that the Dalesmen lied +not in chaffer. While the day was yet young withal came the Dalesmen +from the mid and nether Dale with their wares and set up their booths; +and they had with them flasks and kegs of the wine which they had to +sell; and bales of the good winter-woven cloth, some grey, some dyed, +and pieces of fine linen; and blades of swords, and knives, and axes +of such fashion as the Westland men used; and golden cups and chains, +and fair rings set with mountain-blue stones, and copper bowls, and +vessels gilt and parcel-gilt, and mountain-blue for staining. +There were men of the Shepherds also with such fleeces as they could +spare from the daily chaffer with the neighbours. And of the Woodlanders +were four carles and a woman with peltries and dressed deer-skins, and +a few pieces of well-carven wood-work for bedsteads and chairs and such +like.</p> +<p>Soon was the Burg thronged with folk in all its open places, and +all were eager and merry, and it could not have been told from their +demeanour and countenance that the shadow of a grievous trouble hung +over them. True it was that every man of the Dale and the neighbours +was girt with his sword, or bore spear or axe or other weapon in his +hand, and that most had their bucklers at their backs and their helms +on their heads; but this was ever their custom at all meetings of men, +not because they dreaded war or were fain of strife, but in token that +they were free men, from whom none should take the weapons without battle.</p> +<p>Such were the folk of the land: as for the chapmen, they were well-spoken +and courteous, and blithe with the folk, as they well might be, for +they had good pennyworths of them; yet they dealt with them without +using measureless lying, as behoved folk dealing with simple and proud +people; and many was the tale they told of the tidings of the Cities +and the Plain.</p> +<p>There amongst the throng was the Bride in her maiden’s attire, +but girt with the sword, going from booth to booth with her guests of +the Runaways, and doing those poor people what pleasure she might, and +giving them gifts from the goods there, such as they set their hearts +on. And the more part of the Runaways were about among the people +of the Fair; but Dallach, being still weak, sat on a bench by the door +of the House of the Face looking on well-pleased at all the stir of +folk.</p> +<p>Hall-face was gone on the woodland ward; while Face-of-god went among +the folk in his most glorious attire; but he soon betook him to the +place of meeting without the Gate, where Stone-face and some of the +elders were sitting along with the Alderman, beside whom sat the head +man of the merchants, clad in a gown of fine scarlet embroidered with +the best work of the Dale, with a golden chaplet on his head, and a +good sword, golden-hilted, by his side, all which the Alderman had given +to it him that morning. These chiefs were talking together concerning +the tidings of the Plain, and many a tale the guest told to the Dalesmen, +some true, some false. For there had been battles down there, +and the fall of kings, and destruction of people, as oft befalleth in +the guileful Cities. He told them also, in answer to their story +of the Dusky Men, of how men even such-like, but riding on horses, or +drawn in wains, an host not to be numbered, had erewhile overthrown +the hosts of the Cities of the Plain, and had wrought evils scarce to +be told of; and how they had piled up the skulls of slaughtered folk +into great hills beside the city-gates, so that the sun might no longer +shine into the streets; and how because of the death and the rapine, +grass had grown in the kings’ chambers, and the wolves had chased +deer in the Temples of the Gods.</p> +<p>‘But,’ quoth he, ‘I know you, bold tillers of the +soil, valiant scourers of the Wild-wood, that the worst that can befall +you will be to die under shield, and that ye shall suffer no torment +of the thrall. May the undying Gods bless the threshold of this +Gate, and oft may I come hither to taste of your kindness! May +your race, the uncorrupt, increase and multiply, till your valiant men +and clean maidens make the bitter sweet and purify the earth!’</p> +<p>He spake smooth-tongued and smiling, handling the while the folds +of his fine scarlet gown, and belike he meant a full half of what he +said; for he was a man very eloquent of speech, and had spoken with +kings, uncowed and pleased with his speaking; and for that cause and +his riches had he been made chief of the chapmen. As he spake +the heart of Face-of-god swelled within him, and his cheek flushed; +but Iron-face sat up straight and proud, and a light smile played about +his face, as he said gravely:</p> +<p>‘Friend of the Westland, I thank thee for the blessing and +the kind word. Such as we are, we are; nor do I deem that the +very Gods shall change us. And if they will be our friends, it +is well; for we desire nought of them save their friendship; and if +they will be our foes, that also shall we bear; nor will we curse them +for doing that which their lives bid them to do. What sayest thou, +Face-of-god, my son?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, father,’ said Face-of-god, ‘I say that the +very Gods, though they slay me, cannot unmake my life that has been. +If they do deeds, yet shall we also do.’</p> +<p>The Outlander smiled as they spake, and bowed his head to Iron-face +and Face-of-god, and wondered at their pride of heart, marvelling what +they would say to the great men of the Cities if they should meet them.</p> +<p>But as they sat a-talking, there came two men running to them from +the Portway, their weapons all clattering upon them, and they heard +withal the sound of a horn winded not far off very loud and clear; and +the Chapman’s cheek paled: for in sooth he doubted that war was +at hand, after all he had heard of the Dalesmen’s dealings with +the Dusky Men. And all battle was loathsome to him, nor for all +the gain of his chaffer had he come into the Dale, had he known that +war was looked for.</p> +<p>But the chiefs of the Dalesmen stirred not, nor changed countenance; +and some of the goodmen who were in the street nigh the Gate came forth +to see what was toward; for they also had heard the voice of the horn.</p> +<p>Then one of those messengers came up breathless, and stood before +the chiefs, and said:</p> +<p>‘New tidings, Alderman; here be weaponed strangers come into +the Dale.’</p> +<p>The Alderman smiled on him and said: ‘Yea, son, and are they +a great host of men?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said the man, ‘not above a score as I deem, +and there is a woman with them.’</p> +<p>‘Then shall we abide them here,’ said the Alderman, ‘and +thou mightest have saved thy breath, and suffered them to bring tidings +of themselves; since they may scarce bring us war. For no man +desireth certain and present death; and that is all that such a band +may win at our hands in battle to-day; and all who come in peace are +welcome to us. What like are they to behold?’</p> +<p>Said the man: ‘They are tall men gloriously attired, so that +they seem like kinsmen of the Gods; and they bear flowering boughs in +their hands.’</p> +<p>The Alderman laughed, and said: ‘If they be Gods they are welcome +indeed; and they shall grow the wiser for their coming; for they shall +learn how guest-fain the Burgdale men may be. But if, as I deem, +they be like unto us, and but the children of the Gods, then are they +as welcome, and it may be more so, and our greeting to them shall be +as their greeting to us would be.’</p> +<p>Even as he spake the horn was winded nearer yet, and more loudly, +and folk came pouring out of the Gate to learn the tidings. Presently +the strangers came from off the Portway into the space before the Gate; +and their leader was a tall and goodly man of some thirty winters, in +glorious array, helm on head and sword by side, his surcoat green and +flowery like the spring meads. In his right hand he held a branch +of the blossomed black-thorn (for some was yet in blossom), and his +left had hold of the hand of an exceeding fair woman who went beside +him: behind him was a score of weaponed men in goodly attire, some bearing +bows, some long spears, but each bearing a flowering bough in hand.</p> +<p>The tall man stopped in the midst of the space, and the Alderman +and they with him stirred not; though, as for Face-of-god, it was to +him as if summer had come suddenly into the midst of winter, and for +the very sweetness of delight his face grew pale.</p> +<p>Then the new-comer drew nigh to the Alderman and said:</p> +<p>‘Hail to the Gate and the men of the Gate! Hail to the +kindred of the children of the Gods!’</p> +<p>But the Alderman stood up and spake: ‘And hail to thee, tall +man! Fair greeting to thee and thy company! Wilt thou name +thyself with thine own name, or shall I call thee nought save Guest? +Welcome art thou, by whatsoever name thou wilt be called. Here +may’st thou and thy folk abide as long as ye will.’</p> +<p>Said the new-comer: ‘Thanks have thou for thy greeting and +for thy bidding! And that bidding shall we take, whatsoever may +come of it; for we are minded to abide with thee for a while. +But know thou, O Alderman of the Dalesmen, that I am not sackless toward +thee and thine. My name is Folk-might of the Children of the Wolf, +and this woman is the Sun-beam, my sister, and these behind me are of +my kindred, and are well beloved and trusty. We are no evil men +or wrong-doers; yet have we been driven into sore straits, wherein men +must needs at whiles do deeds that make their friends few and their +foes many. So it may be that I am thy foeman. Yet, if thou +doubtest of me that I shall be a baneful guest, thou shalt have our +weapons of us, and then mayest thou do thy will upon us without dread; +and here first of all is my sword!’</p> +<p>Therewith he cast down the flowering branch he was bearing, and pulled +his sword from out his sheath, and took it by the point, and held out +the hilt to Iron-face.</p> +<p>But the Alderman smiled kindly on him and said:</p> +<p>‘The blade is a good one, and I say it who know the craft of +sword-forging; but I need it not, for thou seest I have a sword by my +side. Keep your weapons, one and all; for ye have come amongst +many and those no weaklings: and if so be that thy guilt against us +is so great that we must needs fall on you, ye will need all your war-gear. +But hereof is no need to speak till the time of the Folk-mote, which +will be holden in three days’ wearing; so let us forbear this +matter till then; for I deem we shall have enough to say of other matters. +Now, Folk-might, sit down beside me, and thou also, Sun-beam, fairest +of women.’</p> +<p>Therewith he looked into her face and reddened, and said:</p> +<p>‘Yet belike thou hast a word of greeting for my son, Face-of-god, +unless it be so that ye have not seen him before?’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god came forward, and took Folk-might by the hand and +kissed him; and he stood before the Sun-beam and took her hand, and +the world waxed a wonder to him as he kissed her cheeks; and in no wise +did she change countenance, save that her eyes softened, and she gazed +at him full kindly from the happiness of her soul.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god said: ‘Welcome, Guests, who erewhile guested +me so well: now beginneth the day of your well-doing to the men of Burgdale; +therefore will we do to you as well as we may.’</p> +<p>Then Folk-might and the Sun-beam sat them down with the chieftains, +one on either side of the Alderman, but Face-of-god passed forth to +the others, and greeted them one by one: of them was Wood-father and +his three sons, and Bow-may; and they rejoiced exceedingly to see him, +and Bow-may said:</p> +<p>‘Now it gladdens my heart to look upon thee alive and thriving, +and to remember that day last winter when I met thee on the snow, and +turned thee back from the perilous path to thy pleasure, which the Dusky +Men were besetting, of whom thou knewest nought. Yea, it was merry +that tide; but this is better. Nay, friend,’ she said, ‘it +availeth thee nought to strive to look out of the back of thine head: +let it be enough to thee that she is there. Thou art now become +a great chieftain, and she is no less; and this is a meeting of chieftains, +and the folk are looking on and expecting demeanour of them as of the +Gods; and she is not to be dealt with as if she were the daughter of +some little goodman with whom one hath made tryst in the meadows. +There! hearken to me for a while; at least till I tell thee that thou +seemest to me to hold thine head higher than when last I saw thee; though +that is no long time either. Hast thou been in battle again since +that day?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ he said, ‘I have stricken no stroke since +I slew two felons within the same hour that we parted. And thou, +sister, what hast thou done?’</p> +<p>She said: ‘The grey goose hath been on the wing thrice since +that, bearing on it the bane of evil things.’</p> +<p>Then said Wood-wise: ‘Kinswoman, tell him of that battle, since +thou art deft with thy tongue.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Weary on battles! it is nought save this: twelve +days agone needs must every fighting-man of the Wolf, carle or of queen, +wend away from Shadowy Vale, while those unmeet for battle we hid away +in the caves at the nether end of the Dale: but Sun-beam would not endure +that night, and fared with us, though she handled no weapon. All +this we had to do because we had learned that a great company of the +Dusky Men were over-nigh to our Dale, and needs must we fall upon them, +lest they should learn too much, and spread the story. Well, so +wise was Folk-might that we came on them unawares by night and cloud +at the edge of the Pine-wood, and but one of our men was slain, and +of them not one escaped; and when the fight was over we counted four +score and ten of their arm-rings.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Did that or aught else come of our meeting with them +that morning?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘nought came of it: those we slew +were but a straying band. Nay, the four score and ten slain in +the Pine-wood knew not of Shadowy Vale belike, and had no intent for +it: they were but scouring the wood seeking their warriors that had +gone out from Silver-dale and came not aback.’</p> +<p>‘Thou art wise in war, Bow-may,’ said Face-of-god, and +he smiled withal.</p> +<p>Bow-may reddened and said: ‘Friend Gold-mane, dost thou perchance +deem that there is aught ill in my warring? And the Sun-beam, +she naysayeth the bearing of weapons; though I deem that she hath little +fear of them when they come her way.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Nay, I deem no ill of it, but much good. +For I suppose that thou hast learned overmuch of the wont of the Dusky +Men, and hast seen their thralls?’</p> +<p>She knitted her brows, and all the merriment went out of her face +at that word, and she answered: ‘Yea, thou hast it; for I have +both seen their thralls and been in the Dale of thralldom; and how then +can I do less than I do? But for thee, I perceive that thou hast +been nigh unto our foes and hast fallen in with their thralls; and that +is well; for whatso tales we had told thee thereof it is like thou wouldst +not have trowed in, as now thou must do, since thou thyself hast seen +these poor folk. But now I will tell thee, Gold-mane, that my +soul is sick of these comings and goings for the slaughter of a few +wretches; and I long for the Great Day of Battle, when it will be seen +whether we shall live or die; and though I laugh and jest, yet doth +the wearing of the days wear me.’</p> +<p>He looked kindly on her and said: ‘I am War-leader of this +Folk, and trust me that the waiting-tide shall not be long; wherefore +now, sister, be merry to-day, for that is but meet and right; and cast +aside thy care, for presently shalt thou behold many new friends. +But now meseemeth overlong have ye been standing before our Gate, and +it is time that ye should see the inside of our Burg and the inside +of our House.’</p> +<p>Indeed by this time so many men had come out of the street that the +place before the Gate was all thronged, and from where he stood Face-of-god +could scarce see his father, or Folk-might and the Sun-beam and the +chieftains.</p> +<p>So he took Wood-father by the hand, and close behind him came Wood-wise +and Bow-may, and he cried out for way that he might speak with the Alderman, +and men gave way to them, and he led those new-comers close up to the +gate-seats of the Elders, and as he clove the press smiling and bright-eyed +and happy, all gazed on him; but the Sun-beam, who was sitting between +Iron-face and the Westland Chapman, and who heretofore had been agaze +with eyes beholding little, past whose ears the words went unheard, +and whose mind wandered into thoughts of things unfashioned yet, when +she beheld him close to her again, then, taken unawares, her eyes caressed +him, and she turned as red as a rose, as she felt all the sweetness +of desire go forth from her to meet him. So that, he perceiving +it, his voice was the clearer and sweeter for the inward joy he felt, +as he said:</p> +<p>‘Alderman, meseemeth it is now time that we bring our Guests +into the House of our Fathers; for since they are in warlike array, +and we are no longer living in peace, and I am now War-leader of the +Dale, I deem it but meet that I should have the guesting of them. +Moreover, when we are come into our House, I will bid thee look into +thy treasury, that thou may’st find therein somewhat which it +may pleasure us to give to our Guests.’</p> +<p>Said Iron-face: ‘Thou sayest well, son, and since the day is +now worn past noon, and these folk are but just come from the Waste, +therefore such as we have of meat and drink abideth them. And +surely there is within our house a coffer which belongeth to thee and +me; and forsooth I know not why we keep the treasures hoarded therein, +save that it be for this cause: that if we were to give to our friends +that which we ourselves use and love, which would be of all things pleasant +to us, if we gave them such goods, they would be worn and worsened by +our use of them. For this reason, therefore, do we keep fair things +which we use not, so that we may give them to our friends.</p> +<p>‘Now, Guests, both of the Waste and the Westland, since here +is no Gate-thing or meeting of the Dale-wardens, and we sit here but +for our pleasure, let us go take our pleasure within doors for a while, +if it seem good to you.’</p> +<p>Therewith he arose, and the folk made way for him and his Guests; +and Folk-might went on the right hand of Iron-face, and beside him went +the Chapman, who looked on him with a half-smile, as though he knew +somewhat of him. But on the other side of Iron-face went the Sun-beam, +whose hand he held, and after these came Face-of-god, leading in the +rest of the New-comers, who yet held the flowery branches in their hands.</p> +<p>Now so much had Face-of-god told the Dalesmen, that they deemed they +all knew these men for their battle-fellows of whom they had heard tell; +and this the more as the men were so goodly and manly of aspect, especially +Folk-might, so that they seemed as if they were nigh akin to the Gods. +As for the Sun-beam, they knew not how to praise her beauty enough, +but they said that they had never known before how fair the Gods might +be. So they raised a great shout of welcome as the men came through +the Gate into the Burg, and all men turned their backs on the booths, +so eager were they to behold closely these new friends.</p> +<p>But as the Guests went from the Gate to the House of the Face, going +very slowly because of the press, there in the front of the throng stood +the Bride with the women of the Runaways, whom she had caused to be +clad very fairly; and she was fain to do them a pleasure by bringing +them to sight of these new-comers, of whom she had not heard who they +were, though she had heard the cry that strangers were at hand. +So there she stood smiling a little with the pleasure of showing a fair +sight to the poor people, as folk do with children. But when she +saw those twain going on each side of the Alderman she knew them at +once; and when the Sun-beam, who was on his left side, passed so close +to her that she could see the very smoothness and dainty fashion of +her skin, then was she astonied, and the world seemed strange to her, +and till they were gone by, and for a while afterwards, she knew not +where she was nor what she did, though it seemed to her as if she still +saw the face of that fair woman as in a picture.</p> +<p>But the Sun-beam had noted her at first, even amongst the fair women +of Burgstead, and she so steady and bright beside the wandering timorous +eyes and lowering faces of the thralls. But suddenly, as eye met +eye, she saw her face change; she saw her cheek whiten, her eyes stare, +and her lips quiver, and she knew at once who it was; for she had not +seen her before as Folk-might had. Then the Sun-beam cast her +eyes adown, lest her compassion might show in her face, and be a fresh +grief to her that had lost the wedding and the love; and so she passed +on.</p> +<p>As for Folk-might, he had seen her at once amongst all that folk +as he came into the street, and in sooth he was looking for her; and +when he saw her face change, as the sight of the Sun-beam smote upon +her heart, his own face burned with shame and anger, and he looked back +at her as he went toward the House. But she saw him not, nor noted +him; and none deemed it strange that he looked long on the Bride, the +treasure of Burgstead. But for some while Folk-might was few-spoken +and sharp-spoken amongst the chieftains; for he was slow to master his +longing and his wrath.</p> +<p>So when all the Guests had entered the door of the House of the Face, +the Alderman turned back, and, standing on the threshold of his House, +spake unto the throng:</p> +<p>‘Men of the Dale, and ye Outlanders who may be here, know that +this is a happy day; for hither have come to us Guests, men of the kindred +of the Gods, and they are even those of whom Face-of-god my son hath +told you. And they are friends of our friends and foes of our +foes. These men are now in my House, as is but right; but when +they come forth I look to you to cherish them in the best way ye know, +and make much of them, as of those who may help us and who may by us +be holpen.’</p> +<p>Therewith he went in again and into the Hall, and bade show the New-comers +to the daïs; and wine of the best, and meat such as was to hand, +was set before them. He bade men also get ready high feast as +great as might be against the evening; and they did his bidding straightway.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII. THE ALDERMAN GIVES GIFTS TO THEM OF SHADOWY +VALE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>In the Hall of the Face Folk-might sat on the daïs at the right +hand of the Alderman, and the Sun-beam on his left hand. But Iron-face +also had beheld the Bride how her face changed, and he knew the cause, +and was grieved and angry and ashamed thereof: also he bethought him +how this stranger was sitting in the very place where the Bride used +to sit, and of all the love, as of a very daughter, that he had had +for her; howbeit he constrained himself to talk courteously and kindly +both to Folk-might and</p> +<p>the Sun-beam, as behoved the Chief of the House and the Alderman +of the Dale. Moreover, he was not a little moved by the goodliness +and wisdom of the Sun-beam and the manliness of Folk-might, who was +the most chieftain-like of men.</p> +<p>But while they sat there Face-of-god went from man to man of the +Guests, and made much of each, but especially of Wood-father and his +sons and Bow-may, and they loved him, and praised him, and deemed him +the best of hall-mates. Nor might the Sun-beam altogether refrain +her from looking lovingly on him, and it could be seen of her that she +deemed he was doing well, and like a wise leader and chieftain.</p> +<p>So wore away awhile, and men were fulfilled of meat and drink; so +then the Alderman arose and spake, and said:</p> +<p>‘Is it not so, Guests, that ye would now gladly behold our +market, and the goodly wares which the chapmen have brought us from +the Cities?’</p> +<p>Then most men cried out: ‘Yea, yea!’ and Iron-face said:</p> +<p>‘Then shall ye go, nor be holden by me from your pleasure. +And ye kinsmen who are the most guest-fain and the wisest, go ye with +our friends, and make all things easy and happy for them. But +first of all, Guests, I were well pleased if ye would take some small +matters out of our abundance; for it were well that ye see them ere +ye stand before the chapmen’s booths, lest ye chaffer with them +for what ye have already.’</p> +<p>They all praised his bounty and thanked him for his goodwill: so +he arose to go to his treasury, and bade certain of his folk go along +with him to bear in the gifts. But ere he had taken three steps +down the hall, Face-of-god prevented him and said:</p> +<p>‘Kinsman, if thou hast anywhere a hauberk somewhat better than +folk are wont to bear, such as thine own hand fashioneth, and a sword +of the like stuff, I would have thee give them, the sword to my brother-in-arms +Wood-wise here, and the war-coat to my sister Bow-may, who shooteth +so well in the bow that none may shoot closer, and very few as close; +and her shaft it was that delivered me when my skull was amongst the +axes of the Dusky Men: else had I not been here.’</p> +<p>Thereat Bow-may reddened and looked down, like a scholar who hath +been over-praised for his learning and diligence; but the Alderman smiled +on her and said:</p> +<p>‘I thank thee, son, that thou hast let me know what these our +two friends may be fain of: and as for this damsel-at-arms, it is a +little thing that thou askest for her, and we might have found her something +more worthy of her goodliness; yet forsooth, since we are all bound +for the place where shafts and staves shall be good cheap, a greater +treasure might be of less avail to her.’</p> +<p>Thereat men laughed, and the Alderman went down the Hall with those +bearers of gifts, and was away for a space while they drank and made +merry: but presently back they came from the treasury bearing loads +of goodly things which were laid on one of the endlong boards. +Then began the gift-giving: and first he gave unto Folk-might six golden +cups marvellously fashioned, the work of four generations of wrights +in the Dale, and he himself had wrought the last two thereof. +To Sun-beam he gave a girdle of gold, fashioned with great mastery, +whereon were images of the Gods and the Fathers, and warriors, and beasts +of the field and fowls of the air; and as he girt it about her loins, +he said in a soft voice so that few heard:</p> +<p>‘Sun-beam, thou fair woman, time has been when thou wert to +us as the edge of the poisonous sword or the midnight torch of the murderer; +but now I know not how it will be, or if the grief which thou hast given +me will ever wear out or not. And now that I have beheld thee, +I have little to do to blame my son; for indeed when I look on thee +I cannot deem that there is any evil in thee. Yea, however it +may be, take thou this gift as the reward of thine exceeding beauty.’</p> +<p>She looked on him with kind eyes, and said meekly:</p> +<p>‘Indeed, if I have hurt thee unwittingly, I grieve to have +hurt so good a man. Hereafter belike we may talk more of this, +but now I will but say, that whereas at first I needed but to win thy +son’s goodwill, so that our Folk might come to life and thriving +again, now it is come to this, that he holdeth my heart in his hand +and may do what he will with it; therefore I pray thee withhold not +thy love either from him or from me.’</p> +<p>He looked on her wondering, and said: ‘Thou art such an one +as might make the old man young, and the boy grow into manhood suddenly; +and thy voice is as sweet as the voice of the song-birds singing in +the dawn of early summer soundeth to him who hath been sick unto death, +but who hath escaped it and is mending. And yet I fear thee.’</p> +<p>Therewith he kissed her hand and turned unto the others, and he gave +unto Bow-may a hauberk of ring-mail of his own fashioning, a sure defence +and a wonderful work, and the collar thereof was done with gold and +gems.</p> +<p>But he said to her: ‘Fair damsel-at-arms, faithful is thy face, +and the fashion of thee is goodly: now art thou become one of the best +of our friends, and this is little enough to give thee; yet would we +fain ward thy body against the foeman; so grieve us not by gainsaying +us.’</p> +<p>And Bow-may was exceeding glad, and scarce knew how to cease handling +that marvel of ring-mail.</p> +<p>Then to Wood-wise Iron-face gave a most goodly sword, the blade all +marked with dark lines like the stream of an eddying river, the hilts +of steel and gold marvellously wrought; and all the work of a smith +who had dwelt in the house of his father’s father, and was a great +warrior.</p> +<p>Unto Wood-father he gave a very goodly helm parcel-gilded; and to +his sons and the other folk fair gifts of weapons and jewels and girdles +and cups and other good things; so that their hearts were full of joy, +and they all praised his open hand.</p> +<p>Then some of the best and merriest of the kinsmen of the Face, and +Face-of-god with them, brought the Guests out into the street and among +the booths. There Face-of-god beheld the Bride again; and she +was standing by the booth of a chapman and dealing with him for a piece +of goodly silken cloth to be a gown for one of her guests, and she was +talking and smiling as she chaffered with him, as her wont was; for +she was ever very friendly of demeanour with all men. But he noted +that she was yet exceeding pale, and he was right sorry thereof, for +he loved her friendly; yet now had he no shame for all that had befallen, +when he bethought him of the Sun-beam and the love she had for him. +And also he had a deeming that the Bride would better of her grief.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV. THE CHIEFTAINS TAKE COUNSEL IN THE HALL OF +THE FACE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Then turned Face-of-god back into the Hall, and saw where Iron-face +sat at the daïs, and with him Folk-might and Stone-face and the +Elder of the Dale-wardens, and Sun-beam withal; so he went soberly up +to the board, and sat himself down thereat beside Stone-face, over against +Folk-might and his father, beside whom sat the Sun-beam; and Folk-might +looked on him gravely, as a man powerful and trustworthy, yet was his +look somewhat sour.</p> +<p>Then the Alderman said: ‘My son, I said not to thee come back +presently, because I wotted that thou wouldst surely do so, knowing +that we have much to speak of. For, whatever these thy friends +may have done, or whatsoever thou hast done with them to grieve us, +all that must be set aside at this present time, since the matter in +hand is to save the Dale and its folk. What sayest thou hereon? +Since, young as thou mayst be, thou art our War-leader, and doubtless +shalt so be after the Folk-mote hath been holden.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god answered not hastily: indeed, as he sat thinking for +a minute or two, the fair spring day seemed to darken about them or +to glare into the light of flames amidst the night-tide; and the joyous +clamour without doors seemed to grow hoarse and fearful as the sound +of wailing and shrieking. But he spake firmly and simply in a +clear voice, and said:</p> +<p>‘There can be no two words concerning what we have to aim at; +these Dusky Men we must slay everyone, though we be fewer than they +be.’</p> +<p>Folk-might smiled and nodded his head; but the others sat staring +down the hall or into the hangings.</p> +<p>Then spake Folk-might: ‘Thou wert a boy methought when I cast +my spear at thee last autumn, Face-of-god, but now hast thou grown into +a man. Now tell me, what deemest thou we must do to slay them +all?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Once again it is clear that we must fall +upon them at home in Rose-dale and Silver-dale.’</p> +<p>Again Folk-might nodded: but Iron-face said:</p> +<p>‘Needeth this? May we not ward the Dale and send many +bands into the wood to fall upon them when we meet them? Yea, +and so doing these our guests have already slain many, as this valiant +man hath told me e’en now. Will ye not slay so many at last, +that they shall learn to fear us, and abide at home and leave us at +peace?’</p> +<p>But Face-of-god said: ‘Meseemeth, father, that this is not +thy rede, and that thou sayest this but to try me: and perchance ye +have been talking about me when I was without in the street e’en +now. Even if it might be that we should thus cow these felons +into abiding at home and tormenting their own thralls at their ease, +yet how then are our friends of the Wolf holpen to their own again? +And I shall tell thee that I have promised to this man and this woman +that I will give them no less than a man’s help in this matter. +Moreover, I have spoken in every house of the Dale, and to the Shepherds +and the Woodlanders, and there is no man amongst them but will follow +me in the quarrel. Furthermore, they have heard of the thralldom +that is done on men no great way from their own houses; yea, they have +seen it; and they remember the old saw, “Grief in thy neighbour’s +hall is grief in thy garth,” and sure it is, father, that whether +thou or I gainsay them, go they will to deliver the thralls of the Dusky +Men, and will leave us alone in the Dale.’</p> +<p>‘This is no less than sooth,’ said the Dale-warden, ‘never +have men gone forth more joyously to a merry-making than all men of +us shall wend to this war.’</p> +<p>‘But,’ said Face-of-god, ‘of one thing ye may be +sure, that these men will not abide our pleasure till we cut them all +off in scattered bands, nor will they sit deedless at home. Nor +indeed may they; for we have heard from their thralls that they look +to have fresh tribes of them come to hand to eat their meat and waste +their servants, and these and they must find new abodes and new thralls; +and they are now warned by the overthrows and slayings that they have +had at our hands that we are astir, and they will not delay long, but +will fall upon us with all their host; it might even be to-day or to-morrow.’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘In all this thou sayest sooth, brother of +the Dale; and to cut this matter short, I will tell you all, that yesterday +we had with us a runaway from Silver-dale (it is overlong to tell how +we fell in with her; for it was a woman). But she told us that +this very moon is a new tribe come into the Dale, six long hundreds +in number, and twice as many more are looked for in two eights of days, +and that ere this moon hath waned, that is, in twenty-four days, they +will wend their ways straight for Burgdale, for they know the ways thereto. +So I say that Face-of-god is right in all wise. But tell me, brother, +hast thou thought of how we shall come upon these men?’</p> +<p>‘How many men wilt thou lead into battle?’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>Folk-might reddened, and said: ‘A few, a few; maybe two-hundreds +all told.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, ‘but some special gain +wilt thou be to us.’</p> +<p>‘So I deem at least,’ said Folk-might.</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Good is that. Now have we held our +Weapon-show in the Dale, and we find that we together with you be sixteen +long hundreds of men; and the tale of the foemen that be now in Silver-dale, +new-comers and all, shall be three thousands or thereabout, and in Rose-dale +hard on a thousand.’</p> +<p>‘Scarce so many,’ said Folk-might; ‘some of the +felons have died; we told over our silver arm-rings yesterday, and the +tale was three hundred and eighty and six. Besides, they were +never so many as thou deemest.’</p> +<p>‘Well,’ said Face-of-god, ‘yet at least they shall +outnumber us sorely. We may scarce leave the Dale unguarded when +our host is gone; therefore I deem that we shall have but one thousand +of men for our onslaught on Silver-dale.’</p> +<p>‘How come ye to that?’ said Stone-face.</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Abide a while, fosterer! Though the +odds between us be great, it is not to be hidden that I wot how ye of +the Wolf know of privy passes into Silver-dale; yea, into the heart +thereof; and this is the special gain ye have to give us. Therefore +we, the thousand men, falling on the foe unawares, shall make a great +slaughter of them; and if the murder be but grim enough, those thralls +of theirs shall fear us and not them, as already they hate them and +not us, so that we may look to them for rooting out these sorry weeds +after the overthrow. And what with one thing, what with another, +we may cherish a good hope of clearing Silver-dale at one stroke with +the said thousand men.</p> +<p>‘There remaineth Rose-dale, which will be easier to deal with, +because the Dusky Men therein are fewer and the thralls as many: that +also would I fall on at the same time as we fall on Silver-dale with +the men that are left over from the Silver-dale onslaught. Wherefore +my rede is, that we gather all those unmeet for battle in the field +into this Burg, with ten tens of men to strengthen them; which shall +be enough for them, along with the old men, and lads, and sturdy women, +to defend themselves till help comes, if aught of evil befall, or to +flee into the mountains, or at the worst to die valiantly. Then +let the other five hundreds fare up to Rose-dale, and fall on the Dusky +Men therein about the same time, but not before our onslaught on Silver-dale: +thus shall hand help foot, so that stumbling be not falling; and we +may well hope that our rede shall thrive.’</p> +<p>Then was he silent, and the Sun-beam looked upon him with gleaming +eyes and parted lips, waiting eagerly to hear what Folk-might would +say. He held his peace a while, drumming on the board with his +fingers, and none else spake a word. At last he said:</p> +<p>‘War-leader of Burgdale, all that thou hast spoken likes me +well, and even so must it be done, saving that parting of our host and +sending one part to fall upon Rose-dale. I say, nay; let us put +all our might into that one stroke on Silver-dale, and then we are undone +indeed if we fail; but so shall we be if we fail anywise; but if we +win Silver-dale, then shall Rose-dale lie open before us.’</p> +<p>‘My brother,’ said Face-of-god, ‘thou art a tried +warrior, and I but a lad: but dost thou not see this, that whatever +we do, we shall not at one onslaught slay all the Dusky Men of Silver-dale, +and those that flee before us shall betake them to Rose-dale, and tell +all the tale, and what shall hinder them then from falling on Burgdale +(since they are no great way from it) after they have murdered what +they will of the unhappy people under their hands?’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘I say not but that there is a risk thereof, +but in war we must needs run such risks, and all should be risked rather +than that our blow on Silver-dale be light. For we be the fewer; +and if the foemen have time to call that to mind, then are we all lost.’</p> +<p>Said Stone-face: ‘Meseemeth, War-leader, that there is nought +much to dread in leaving Rose-dale to itself for a while; for not only +may we follow hard on the fleers if they flee to Rose-dale, and be there +no long time after them, before they have time to stir their host but +also after the overthrow we shall be free to send men back to Burgdale +by way of Shadowy Vale. I deem that herein Folk-might hath the +right of it.’</p> +<p>‘Even so say I,’ said the Alderman; ‘besides, we +might theft leave more folk behind us for the warding of the Dale. +So, son, the risk whereof thou speakest groweth the lesser the longer +it is looked on.’</p> +<p>Then spake the Dale-warden: ‘Yet saving your wisdom, Alderman, +the risk is there yet. For if these felons come into the Dale +at all, even if the folk left behind hold the Burg and keep themselves +unmurdered, yet may they not hinder the foe from spoiling our homesteads; +so that our folk coming back in triumph shall find ruin at home, and +spend weary days in hunting their foemen, who shall, many of them, escape +into the Wild-wood.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said the Sun-beam, ‘sooth is that; and Face-of-god +is wise to think of it and of other matters. Yet one thing we +must bear in mind, that all may not go smoothly in our day’s work +in Silver-dale; so we must have force there to fall back on, in case +we miss our stroke at first. Therefore, I say, send we no man +to Rose-dale, and leave we no able man-at-arms behind in the Burg, so +that we have with us every blade that may be gathered.’</p> +<p>Iron-face smiled and said: ‘Thou art wise, damsel; and I marvel +that so fair-fashioned a thing as thou can think so hardly of the meeting +of the fallow blades. But hearken! will not the Dusky Men hear +that we have stripped the Dale of fighting-men, and may they not then +give our host the go-by and send folk to ruin us?’</p> +<p>There was silence while Face-of-god looked down on the board; but +presently he lifted up his face and said:</p> +<p>‘Folk-might was right when he said that all must be risked. +Let us leave Rose-dale till we have overcome them of Silver-dale. +Moreover, my father, thou must not deem of these felons as if they were +of like wits to us, to forecast the deeds to come, and weigh the chances +nicely, and unravel tangled clews. Rather they move like to the +stares in autumn, or the winter wild-geese, and will all be thrust forward +by some sting that entereth into their imaginations. Therefore, +if they have appointed one moon to wear before they fall upon us, they +will not stir till then, and we have time enough to do what must be +done. Wherefore am I now of one mind with the rest of you. +Now meseemeth it were well that these things which we have spoken here, +and shall speak, should not be noised abroad openly; nay, at the Folk-mote +it would be well that nought be said about the day or the way of our +onslaught on Silver-dale, lest the foe take warning and be on their +guard. Though, sooth to say, did I deem that if they had word +of our intent they of Rose-dale would join themselves to them of Silver-dale, +and that we should thus have all our foes in one net, then were I fain +if the word would reach them. For my soul loathes the hunting +that shall befall up and down the wood for the slaying of a man here, +and two or three there, and the wearing of the days in wandering up +and down with weapons in the hand, and the spinning out of hatred and +delaying of peace.’</p> +<p>Then Iron-face reached his hand across the board and took his son’s +hand, and said:</p> +<p>‘Hail to thee, son, for thy word! Herein thou speakest +as if from my very soul, and fain am I of such a War-leader.’</p> +<p>And desire drew the eyes of the Sun-beam to Face-of-god, and she +beheld him proudly. But he said:</p> +<p>‘All hath been spoken that the others of us may speak; and +now it falleth to the part of Folk-might to order our goings for the +tryst for the onslaught, and the trysting-place shall be in Shadowy +Vale. How sayest thou, Chief of the Wolf?’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘I have little to say; and it is for the War-leader +to see to this closely and piecemeal. I deem, as we all deem, +that there should be no delay; yet were it best to wend not all together +to Shadowy Vale, but in divers bands, as soon as ye may after the Folk-mote, +by the sure and nigh ways that we shall show you. And when we +are gathered there, short is the rede, for all is ready there to wend +by the passes which we know throughly, and whereby it is but two days’ +journey to the head of Silver-dale, nigh to the caves of the silver, +where the felons dwell the thickest.’</p> +<p>He set his teeth, and his colour came and went: for as constantly +as the onslaught had been in his mind, yet whenever he spake of the +great day of battle, hope and joy and anger wrought a tumult in his +soul; and now that it was so nigh withal, he could not refrain his joy.</p> +<p>But he spake again: ‘Now therefore, War-leader, it is for thee +to order the goings of thy folk. But I will tell thee that they +shall not need to take aught with them save their weapons and victual +for the way, that is, for thirty hours; because all is ready for them +in Shadowy Vale, though it be but a poor place as to victual. +Canst thou tell us, therefore, what thou wilt do?’</p> +<p>Face-of-god had knit his brows and become gloomy of countenance; +but now his face cleared, and he set his hand to his pouch, and drew +forth a written parchment, and said:</p> +<p>‘This is the order whereof I have bethought me. Before +the Folk-mote I and the Wardens shall speak to the leaders of hundreds, +who be mostly here at the Fair, and give them the day and the hour whereon +they shall, each hundred, take their weapons and wend to Shadowy Vale, +and also the place where they shall meet the men of yours who shall +lead them across the Waste. These hundred-leaders shall then go +straightway and give the word to the captains of scores, and the captains +of scores to the captains of tens; and if, as is scarce doubtful, the +Folk-mote yea-says the onslaught and the fellowship with you of the +Wolf, then shall those leaders of tens bring their men to the trysting-place, +and so go their ways to Shadowy Vale. Now here I have the roll +of our Weapon-show, and I will look to it that none shall be passed +over; and if ye ask me in what order they had best get on the way, my +rede is that a two hundred should depart on the very evening of the +day of the Folk-mote, and these to be of our folk of the Upper Dale; +and on the morning of the morrow of the Folk-mote another two hundreds +from the Dale; and in the evening of the same day the folk of the Shepherds, +three hundreds or more, and that will be easy to them; again on the +next day two more bands of the Lower Dale, one in the morning, one in +the evening. Lastly, in the earliest dawn of the third day from +the Folk-mote shall the Woodlanders wend their ways. But one hundred +of men let us leave behind for the warding of the Burg, even as we agreed +before. As for the place of tryst for the faring over the Waste, +let it be the end of the knolls just by the jaws of the pass yonder, +where the Weltering Water comes into the Dale from the East. How +say ye?’</p> +<p>They all said, and Folk-might especially, that it was right well +devised, and that thus it should be done.</p> +<p>Then turned Face-of-god to the Dale-warden, and said:</p> +<p>‘It were good, brother, that we saw the other wardens as soon +as may be, to do them to wit of this order, and what they have to do.’</p> +<p>Therewith he arose and took the Elder of the Dale-wardens away with +him, and the twain set about their business straight-way. Neither +did the others abide long in the Hall, but went out into the Burg to +see the chapmen and their wares. There the Alderman bought what +he needed of iron and steel and other matters; and Folk-might cheapened +him a dagger curiously wrought, and a web of gold and silk for the Sun-beam, +for which wares he paid in silver arm-rings, new-wrought and of strange +fashion.</p> +<p>But amidst of the chaffer was now a great ring of men; and in the +midst of the ring stood Redesman, fiddle and bow in hand, and with him +were four damsels wondrously arrayed; for the first was clad in a smock +so craftily wrought with threads of green and many colours, that it +seemed like a piece of the green field beset with primroses and cowslips +and harebells and windflowers, rather than a garment woven and sewn; +and in her hand she bore a naked sword, with golden hilts and gleaming +blade. But the second bore on her roses done in like manner, both +blossoms and green leaves, wherewith her body was covered decently, +which else had been naked. The third was clad as though she were +wading the wheat-field to the waist, and above was wrapped in the leaves +and bunches of the wine-tree. And the fourth was clad in a scarlet +gown flecked with white wool to set forth the winter’s snow, and +broidered over with the burning brands of the Holy Hearth; and she bore +on her head a garland of mistletoe. And these four damsels were +clearly seen to image the four seasons of the year - Spring, Summer, +Autumn, and Winter. But amidst them stood a fountain or conduit +of gilded work cunningly wrought, and full of the best wine of the Dale, +and gilded cups and beakers hung about it.</p> +<p>So now Redesman fell to caressing his fiddle with the bow till it +began to make sweet music, and therewith the hearts of all danced with +it; and presently words come into his mouth, and he fell to singing; +and the damsels answered him:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Earth-wielders, that fashion the Dale-dwellers’ treasure,<br /> Soft +are ye by seeming, yet hardy of heart!<br />No warrior amongst us withstandeth +your pleasure;<br /> No man from his meadow may thrust +you apart.</p> +<p>Fresh and fair are your bodies, but far beyond telling<br /> Are +the years of your lives, and the craft ye have stored.<br />Come give +us a word, then, concerning our dwelling,<br /> And +the days to befall us, the fruit of the sword.</p> +<p><i>Winter saith:</i></p> +<p>When last in the feast-hall the Yule-fire flickered,<br /> The +foot of no foeman fared over the snow,<br />And nought but the wind +with the ash-branches bickered:<br /> Next Yule ye +may deem it a long time ago.</p> +<p><i>Autumn saith:</i></p> +<p>Loud laughed ye last year in the wheat-field a-smiting;<br /> And +ye laughed as your backs drave the beam of the press.<br />When the +edge of the war-sword the acres are lighting<br /> Look +up to the Banner and laugh ye no less.</p> +<p><i>Summer saith:</i></p> +<p>Ye called and I came, and how good was the greeting,<br /> When +ye wrapped me in roses both bosom and side!<br />Here yet shall I long, +and be fain of our meeting,<br /> As hidden from battle +your coming I bide.</p> +<p><i>Spring saith:</i></p> +<p>I am here for your comfort, and lo! what I carry;<br /> The +blade with the bright edges bared to the sun.<br />To the field, to +the work then, that e’en I may tarry<br /> For +the end of the tale in my first days begun!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Therewith the throng opened, and a young man stepped lightly into +the ring, clad in very fair armour, with a gilded helm on his head; +and he took the sword from the hand of the Maiden of Spring, and waved +it in the air till the westering sun flashed back from it. Then +each of the four damsels went up to the swain and kissed his mouth; +and Redesman drew the bow across the strings, and the four damsels sang +together, standing round about the young warrior:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>It was but a while since for earth’s sake we trembled,<br /> Lest +the increase our life-days had won for the Dale,<br />All the wealth +that the moons and the years had assembled,<br /> Should +be but a mock for the days of your bale.</p> +<p>But now we behold the sun smite on the token<br /> In +the hand of the Champion, the heart of a man;<br />We look down the +long years and see them unbroken;<br /> Forth fareth +the Folk by the ways it began.</p> +<p>So bid ye these chapmen in autumn returning,<br /> To +bring iron for ploughshares and steel for the scythe,<br />And the over-sea +oil that hath felt the sun’s burning,<br /> And +fair webs for your women soft-spoken and blithe;</p> +<p>And pledge ye your word in the market to meet them,<br /> As +many a man and as many a maid,<br />As eager as ever, as guest-fain +to greet them,<br /> And bide till the booth from the +waggon is made.</p> +<p>Come, guests of our lovers! for we, the year-wielders,<br /> Bid +each man and all to come hither and take<br />A cup from our hands midst +the peace of our shielders,<br /> And drink to the +days of the Dale that we make.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Then went the damsels to that wine-fountain, and drew thence cups +of the best and brightest wine of the Dale, and went round about the +ring, and gave drink to whomsoever would, both of the chapmen and the +others; while the weaponed youth stood in the midst bearing aloft his +sword and shield like an image in a holy place, and Redesman’s +bow still went up and down the strings, and drew forth a sweet and merry +tune.</p> +<p>Great game it was now to see the stark Burgdale carles dragging the +Men of the Plain, little loth, up to the front of the ring, that they +might stretch out their hands for a cup, and how many a one, as he took +it, took as much as he might of the damsel’s hand withal. +As for the damsels, they played the Holy Play very daintily, neither +reddening nor laughing, but faring so solemnly, and withal so sweetly +and bright-faced, that it might well have been deemed that they were +in very sooth Maidens of the God of Earth sent from the ever-enduring +Hall to cheer the hearts of men.</p> +<p>So simply and blithely did the Men of Burgdale disport them after +the manner of their fathers, trusting in their valour and beholding +the good days to be.</p> +<p>So wore the evening, and when night was come, men feasted throughout +the Burg from house to house, and every hall was full. But the +Guests from Shadowy Vale feasted in the Hall of the Face in all glee +and goodwill; and with them were the chief of the chapmen and two others; +but the rest of them had been laid hold of by goodmen of the Burg, and +dragged into their feast-halls, for they were fain of those guests and +their tales. One of the chapmen in the House of the Face knew +Folk-might, and hailed him by the name he had borne in the Cities, Regulus +to wit; indeed, the chief chapman knew him, and even somewhat over-well, +for he had been held to ransom by Folk-might in those past days, and +even yet feared him, because he, the chapman, had played somewhat of +a dastard’s part to him. But the other was an open-hearted +and merry fellow, and no weakling; and Folk-might was fain of his talk +concerning times bygone, and the fields they had foughten in, and other +adventures that had befallen them, both good and evil.</p> +<p>As for Face-of-god, he went about the Hall soberly, and spake no +more than behoved him, so as not to seem a mar-feast; for the image +of the slaughter to be yet abode with him, and his heart foreboded the +after-grief of the battle. He had no speech with the Sun-beam +till men were sundering after the feast, and then he came close to her +amidst of the turmoil, and said:</p> +<p>‘Time presses on me these days; but if thou wouldest speak +with me to-morrow as I would with thee, then mightest thou go on the +Bridge of the Burg about sunrise, and I will be there, and we two only.’</p> +<p>Her face, which had been somewhat sad that evening (for she had been +watching his), brightened at that word, and she took his hand as folk +came thronging round about them, and said:</p> +<p>‘Yea, friend, I shall be there, and fain of thee.’ +And therewithal they sundered for that night.</p> +<p>And all men went to sleep throughout the Burg: howbeit they set a +watch at the Burg-Gate; and Hall-face, when he was coming back from +the woodland ward about sunset, fell in with Redcoat of Waterless and +four score men on the Portway coming to meet him and take his place. +All which was clean contrary to the wont of the Burgdalers, who at most +whiles held no watch and ward, not even in Fair-time.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXV. FACE-OF-GOD TALKETH WITH THE SUN-BEAM</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Face-of-God was at the Bridge on the morrow before sun-rising, and +as he turned about at the Bridge-foot he saw the Sun-beam coming down +the street; and his heart rose to his mouth at the sight of her, and +he went to meet her and took her by the hand; and there were no words +between them till they had kissed and caressed each other, for there +was no one stirring about them. So they went over the Bridge into +the meadows, and eastward of the beaten path thereover.</p> +<p>The grass was growing thick and strong, and it was full of flowers, +as the cowslip and the oxlip, and the chequered daffodil, and the wild +tulip: the black-thorn was well-nigh done blooming, but the hawthorn +was in bud, and in some places growing white. It was a fair morning, +warm and cloudless, but the night had been misty, and the haze still +hung about the meadows of the Dale where they were wettest, and the +grass and its flowers were heavy with dew, so that the Sun-beam went +barefoot in the meadow. She had a dark cloak cast over her kirtle, +and had left her glittering gown behind her in the House.</p> +<p>They went along hand in hand exceeding fain of each other, and the +sun rose as they went, and the long beams of gold shone through the +tops of the tall trees across the grass they trod, and a light wind +rose up in the north, as Face-of-god stayed a moment and turned toward +the Face of the Sun and prayed to Him, while the Sun-beam’s hand +left the War-leader’s hand and stole up to his golden locks and +lay amongst them.</p> +<p>Presently they went on, and the feet of Face-of-god led him unwitting +toward the chestnut grove by the old dyke where he had met the Bride +such a little while ago, till he bethought whither he was going and +stopped short and reddened; and the Sun-beam noted it, but spake not; +but he said: ‘Hereby is a fair place for us to sit and talk till +the day’s work beginneth.’</p> +<p>So then he turned aside, and soon they came to a hawthorn brake out +of which arose a great tall-stemmed oak, showing no green as yet save +a little on its lower twigs; and anigh it, yet with room for its boughs +to grow freely, was a great bird-cherry tree, all covered now with sweet-smelling +white blossoms. There they sat down on the trunk of a tree felled +last year, and she cast off her cloak, and took his face between her +two hands and kissed him long and fondly, and for a while their joy +had no word. But when speech came to them, it was she that spake +first and said:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane, my dear, sorely I wonder at thee and at me, how +we are changed since that day last autumn when I first saw thee. +Whiles I think, didst thou not laugh when thou wert by thyself that +day, and mock at me privily, that I must needs take such wisdom on myself, +and lesson thee standing like a stripling before me. Dost thou +not call it all to mind and make merry over it, now that thou art become +a great chieftain and a wise warrior, and I am yet what I always was, +a young maiden of the kindred; save that now I abide no longer for my +love?’</p> +<p>Her face was exceeding bright and rippled with joyous smiles, and +he looked at her and deemed that her heart was overflowing with happiness, +and he wondered at her indeed that she was so glad of him, and he said:</p> +<p>‘Yea, indeed, oft do I see that morning in the woodland hall +and thee and me therein, as one looketh on a picture; yea verily, and +I laugh, yet is it for very bliss; neither do I mock at all. Did +I not deem thee a God then? and am I not most happy now when I can call +it thus to mind? And as to thee, thou wert wise then, and yet +art thou wise now. Yea, I thought thee a God; and if we are changed, +is it not rather that thou hast lifted me up to thee, and not come down +to me?’</p> +<p>Yet therewithal he knit his brows somewhat and said:</p> +<p>‘Yet thou hast not to tell me that all thy love for thy Folk, +and thy yearning hope for its recoverance, was but a painted show. +Else why shouldst thou love me the better now that I am become a chieftain, +and therefore am more meet to understand thy hope and thy sorrow? +Did I not behold thee as we stood before the Wolf of the Hall of Shadowy +Vale, how the tears stood in thine eyes as thou beheldest him, and thine +hand in mine quivered and clung to me, and thou wert all changed in +a moment of time? Was all this then but a seeming and a beguilement?’</p> +<p>‘O young man,’ she said, ‘hast thou not said it, +that we stood there close together, and my hand in thine and desire +growing up in me? Dost thou not know how this also quickeneth +the story of our Folk, and our goodwill towards the living, and remembrance +of the dead? Shall they have lived and desired, and we deny desire +and life? Or tell me: what was it made thee so chieftain-like +in the Hall yesterday, so that thou wert the master of all our wills, +for as self-willed as some of us were? Was it not that I, whom +thou deemest lovely, was thereby watching thee and rejoicing in thee? +Did not the sweetness of thy love quicken thee? Yet because of +that was thy warrior’s wisdom and thy foresight an empty show? +Heedest thou nought the Folk of the Dale? Wouldest thou sunder +from the children of the Fathers, and dwell amongst strangers?’</p> +<p>He kissed her and smiled on her and said: ‘Did I not say of +thee that thou wert wiser than the daughters of men? See how wise +thou hast made me!’</p> +<p>She spake again: ‘Nay, nay, there was no feigning in my love +for my people. How couldest thou think it, when the Fathers and +the kindred have made this body that thou lovest, and the voice of their +songs is in the speech thou deemest sweet?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Sweet friend, I deemed not that there was feigning +in thee: I was but wondering what I am and how I was fashioned, that +I should make thee so glad that thou couldst for a while forget thy +hope of the days before we met.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘O how glad, how glad! Yet was I nought hapless. +In despite of all trouble I had no down-weighing grief, and I had the +hope of my people before me. Good were my days; but I knew not +till now how glad a child of man may be.’</p> +<p>Their words were hushed for a while amidst their caresses. +Then she said:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane, my friend, I mocked not my past self because I +deem that I was a fool then, but because I see now that all that my +wisdom could do, would have come about without my wisdom; and that thou, +deeming thyself something less than wise, didst accomplish the thing +I craved, and that which thou didst crave also; and withal wisdom embraced +thee, along with love.’</p> +<p>Therewith she cast her arms about him and said:</p> +<p>‘O friend, I mock myself of this: that erst thou deemedst me +a God and fearedst me, but now thou seemest to me to be a God, and I +fear thee. Yea, though I have longed so sore to be with thee since +the day of Shadowy Vale, and though I have wearied of the slow wearing +of the days, and it hath tormented me; yet now that I am with thee, +I bless the torment of my longing; for it is but my longing that compelleth +me to cast away my fear of thee and caress thee, because I have learned +how sweet it is to love thee thus.’</p> +<p>He wound his arms about her, and sweeter was their longing than mere +joy; and though their love was beyond measure, yet was therein no shame +to aught, not even to the lovely Dale and that fair season of spring, +so goodly they were among the children of men.</p> +<p>In a while they arose and turned homeward, and went over the open +meadow, and it was yet early, and the dew was as heavy on the grass +as before, though the wide sunlight was now upon it, glittering on the +wet blades, and shining through the bells of the chequered daffodils +till they looked like gouts of blood.</p> +<p>‘Look,’ said Sun-beam, as they went along by the same +way whereas they came, ‘deemest thou not that other speech-friends +besides us have been abroad to talk together apart on this morning of +the eve of battle. It is nought unwonted, that we do, even though +we forget the trouble of the people to think of our own joy for a while.’</p> +<p>The smile died out of her face as she spoke, and she said:</p> +<p>‘O friend, this much may I say for myself in all sooth, that +indeed I would die for the kindred and its good days, nor falter therein; +but if I am to die, might I but die in thine arms!’</p> +<p>He looked very lovingly on her, and put his arm about her and kissed +her and said: ‘What ails us to stand in the doom-ring and bear +witness against ourselves before the kindred? Now I will say, +that whatsoever the kindred may or can call upon me to do, that will +I do, nor grudge the deed: I am sackless before them. But that +is true which I spake to thee when we came together up out of Shadowy +Vale, to wit, that I am no strifeful man, but a peaceful; and I look +to it to win through this war, and find on the other side either death, +or life amongst a happy folk; and I deem that this is mostly the mind +of our people.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Thou shalt not die, thou shalt not die!’</p> +<p>‘Mayhappen not,’ he said; ‘yet yesterday I could +not but look into the slaughter to come, and it seemed to me a grim +thing, and darkened the day for me; and I grew acold as a man walking +with the dead. But tell me: thou sayest I shall not die; dost +thou say this only because I am become dear to thee, or dost thou speak +it out of thy foresight of things to come?’</p> +<p>She stopped and looked silently a while over the meadows towards +the houses of the Thorp: they were standing now on the border of a shallow +brook that ran down toward the Weltering Water; it had a little strand +of fine sand like the sea-shore, driven close together, and all moist, +because that brook was used to flood the meadow for the feeding of the +grass; and the last evening the hatches which held up the water had +been drawn, so that much had ebbed away and left the strand aforesaid.</p> +<p>After a while the Sun-beam turned to Face-of-god, and she was become +somewhat pale; she said:</p> +<p>‘Nay, I have striven to see, and can see nought save the picture +of hope and fear that I make for myself. So it oft befalleth foreseeing +women, that the love of a man cloudeth their vision. Be content, +dear friend; it is for life or death; but whichso it be, the same for +me and thee together?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ he said, ‘and well content I am; so now +let each of us trust in the other to be both good and dear, even as +I trusted in thee the first hour that I looked on thee.’</p> +<p>‘It is well,’ she said; ‘it is well. How +fair thou art; and how fair is the morn, and this our Dale in the goodly +season; and all this abideth us when the battle is over.’</p> +<p>Once more her voice became sweet and wheedling, and the smile lit +up her face again, and she pointed down to the sand with her finger, +and said:</p> +<p>‘See thou! Here indeed have other lovers passed by across +the brook. Shall we wish them good luck?’</p> +<p>He laughed and looked down on the sand, and said:</p> +<p>‘Thou art in haste to make a story up. Indeed I see that +these first footprints are of a woman, for no carle of the Dale has +a foot as small; for we be tall fellows; and these others withal are +a man’s footprints; and if they showed that they had been walking +side by side, simple had been thy tale; but so it is not. I cannot +say that these two pairs of feet went over the brook within five minutes +of each other; but sure it is that they could not have been faring side +by side. Well, belike they were lovers bickering, and we may wish +them luck out of that. Truly it is well seen that Bow-may hath +done thine hunting for thee, dear friend; or else wouldest thou have +lacked venison; for thou hast no hunter’s eye.’</p> +<p>‘Well,’ she said, ‘but wish them luck, and give +me thine hand upon it.’</p> +<p>He took her hand, and fondled it, and said: ‘By this hand of +my speech-friend, I wish these twain all luck, in love and in leisure, +in faring and fighting, in sowing and samming, in getting and giving. +Is it well enough wished? If so it be, then come thy ways, dear +friend; for the day’s work is at hand.’</p> +<p>‘It is well wished,’ she said. ‘Now hearken: +by the valiant hand of the War-leader, by the hand that shall unloose +my girdle, I wish these twain to be as happy as we be.’</p> +<p>He made as if to draw her away, but she hung aback to set the print +of her foot beside the woman’s foot, and then they went on together, +and soon crossed the Bridge, and came home to the House of the Face.</p> +<p>When they had broken their fast, Face-of-god would straight get to +his business of ordering matters for the warfare, and was wishful to +speak with Folk-might; but found him not, either in the House or the +street. But a man said:</p> +<p>‘I saw the tall Guest come abroad from the House and go toward +the Bridge very early in the morning.’</p> +<p>The Sun-beam, who was anigh when that was spoken, heard it and smiled, +and said: ‘Gold-mane, deemest thou that it was my brother whom +we blessed?’</p> +<p>‘I wot not,’ he said; ‘but I would he were here, +for this gear must speedily be looked to.’</p> +<p>Nevertheless it was nigh an hour before Folk-might came home to the +House. He strode in lightly and gaily, and shaking the crest of +his war-helm as he went. He looked friendly on Face-of-god, and +said to him:</p> +<p>‘Thou hast been seeking me, War-leader; but grudge it not that +I have caused thee to tarry. For as things have gone, I am twice +the man for thine helping that I was yester-eve; and thou art so ready +and deft, that all will be done in due time.’</p> +<p>He looked as if he would have had Face-of-god ask of him what made +him so fain, but Face-of-god said only:</p> +<p>‘I am glad of thy gladness; but now let us dally no longer, +for I have many folk to see to-day and much to set a-going.’</p> +<p>So therewith they spake together a while, and then went their ways +together toward Carlstead and the Woodlanders.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI. FOLK-MIGHT SPEAKETH WITH THE BRIDE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>It must be told that those footprints which Face-of-god and the Sun-beam +had blessed betwixt jest and earnest had more to do with them than they +wotted of. For Folk-might, who had had many thoughts and longings +since he had seen the Bride again, rose up early about sunrise, and +went out-a-doors, and wandered about the Burg, letting his eyes stray +over the goodly stone houses and their trim gardens, yet noting them +little, since the Bride was not there.</p> +<p>At last he came to where there was an open place, straight-sided, +longer than it was wide, with a wall on each side of it, over which +showed the blossomed boughs of pear and cherry and plum-trees: on either +hand before the wall was a row of great lindens, now showing their first +tender green, especially on their lower twigs, where they were sheltered +by the wall. At the nether end of this place Folk-might saw a +grey stone house, and he went towards it betwixt the lindens, for it +seemed right great, and presently was but a score of paces from its +door, and as yet there was no man, carle or queen, stirring about it.</p> +<p>It was a long low house with a very steep roof; but belike the hall +was built over some undercroft, for many steps went up to the door on +either hand; and the doorway was low, with a straight lintel under its +arch. This house, like the House of the Face, seemed ancient and +somewhat strange, and Folk-might could not choose but take note of it. +The front was all of good ashlar work, but it was carven all over, without +heed being paid to the joints of the stones, into one picture of a flowery +meadow, with tall trees and bushes in it, and fowl perched in the trees +and running through the grass, and sheep and kine and oxen and horses +feeding down the meadow; and over the door at the top of the stair was +wrought a great steer bigger than all the other neat, whose head was +turned toward the sun-rising and uplifted with open mouth, as though +he were lowing aloud. Exceeding fair seemed that house to Folk-might, +and as though it were the dwelling of some great kindred.</p> +<p>But he had scarce gone over it with his eyes, and was just about +to draw nigher yet to it, when the door at the top of those steps opened, +and a woman came out of the house clad in a green kirtle and a gown +of brazil, with a golden-hilted sword girt to her side. Folk-might +saw at once that it was the Bride, and drew aback behind one of the +trees so that she might not see him, if she had not already seen him, +as it seemed not that she had, for she stayed but for a moment on the +top of the stair, looking out down the tree-rows, and then came down +the stair and went soberly along the road, passing so close to Folk-might +that he could see the fashion of her beauty closely, as one looks into +the work of some deftest artificer. Then it came suddenly into +his head that he would follow her and see whither she was wending. +‘At least,’ said he to himself, ‘if I come not to +speech with her, I shall be nigh unto her, and shall see somewhat of +her beauty.’</p> +<p>So he came out quietly from behind the tree, and followed her softly; +and he was clad in no garment save his kirtle, and bare no weapons to +clash and jingle, though he had his helm on his head for lack of a softer +hat. He kept her well in sight, and she went straight onward and +looked not back. She went by the way whereas he had come, till +they were in the main street, wherein as yet was no one afoot; she made +her way to the Bridge, and passed over it into the meadows; but when +she had gone but a few steps, she stayed a little and looked on the +ground, and as she did so turned a little toward Folk-might, who had +drawn back into the last of the refuges over the up-stream buttresses. +He saw that there was a half-smile on her face, but he could not tell +whether she were glad or sorry. A light wind was beginning to +blow, that stirred her raiment and raised a lock of hair that had strayed +from the golden fillet round about her head, and she looked most marvellous +fair.</p> +<p>Now she looked along the grass that glittered under the beams of +the newly-risen sun, and noted belike how heavy the dew lay on it; and +the grass was high already, for the spring had been hot, and haysel +would be early in the Dale. So she put off her shoes, that were +of deerskin and broidered with golden threads, and turned somewhat from +the way, and hung them up amidst the new green leaves of a hawthorn +bush that stood nearby, and so went thwart the meadow somewhat eastward +straight from that bush, and her feet shone out like pearls amidst the +deep green grass.</p> +<p>Folk-might followed presently, and she stayed not again, nor turned, +nor beheld him; he recked not if she had, for then would he have come +up with her and hailed her, and he knew that she was no foolish maiden +to start at the sight of a man who was the friend of her Folk.</p> +<p>So they went their ways till she came to the strand of the water-meadow +brook aforesaid, and she went through the little ripples of the shallow +without staying, and on through the tall deep grass of the meadow beyond, +to where they met the brook again; for it swept round the meadow in +a wide curve, and turned back toward itself; so it was some half furlong +over from water to water.</p> +<p>She stood a while on the brink of the brook here, which was brim-full +and nigh running into the grass, because there was a dam just below +the place; and Folk-might drew nigher to her under cover of the thorn-bushes, +and looked at the place about her and beyond her. The meadow beyond +stream was very fair and flowery, but not right great; for it was bounded +by a grove of ancient chestnut trees, that went on and on toward the +southern cliffs of the Dale: in front of the chestnut wood stood a broken +row of black-thorn bushes, now growing green and losing their blossom, +and he could see betwixt them that there was a grassy bank running along, +as if there had once been a turf-wall and ditch round about the chestnut +trees. For indeed this was the old place of tryst between Gold-mane +and the Bride, whereof the tale hath told before.</p> +<p>The Bride stayed scarce longer than gave him time to note all this; +but he deemed that she was weeping, though he could not rightly see +her face; for her shoulders heaved, and she hung her face adown and +put up her hands to it. But now she went a little higher up the +stream, where the water was shallower, and waded the stream and went +up over the meadow, still weeping, as he deemed, and went between the +black-thorn bushes, and sat her down on the grassy bank with her back +to the chestnut trees.</p> +<p>Folk-might was ashamed to have seen her weeping, and was half-minded +to turn him back again at once; but love constrained him, and he said +to himself, ‘Where shall I see her again privily if I pass by +this time and place?’ So he waited a little till he deemed +she might have mastered the passion of tears, and then came forth from +his bush, and went down to the water and crossed it, and went quietly +over the meadow straight towards her. But he was not half-way +across, when she lifted up her face from between her hands and beheld +the man coming. She neither started nor rose up; but straightened +herself as she sat, and looked right into Folk-might’s eyes as +he drew near, though the tears were not dry on her cheeks.</p> +<p>Now he stood before her, and said: ‘Hail to the Daughter of +a mighty House! Mayst thou live happy!’</p> +<p>She answered: ‘Hail to thee also, Guest of our Folk! +Hast thou been wandering about our meadows, and happened on me perchance?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ he said; ‘I saw thee come forth from the +House of the Steer, and I followed thee hither.’</p> +<p>She reddened a little, and knit her brow, and said:</p> +<p>‘Thou wilt have something to say to me?’</p> +<p>‘I have much to say to thee,’ he said; ‘yet it +was sweet to me to behold thee, even if I might not speak with thee.’</p> +<p>She looked on him with her deep simple eyes, and neither reddened +again, nor seemed wroth; then she said:</p> +<p>‘Speak what thou hast in thine heart, and I will hearken without +anger whatsoever it may be; even if thou hast but to tell me of the +passing folly of a mighty man, which in a month or two he will not remember +for sorrow or for joy. Sit here beside me, and tell me thy thought.’</p> +<p>So he sat him adown and said: ‘Yea, I have much to say to thee, +but it is hard to me to say it. But this I will say: to-day and +yesterday make the third time I have seen thee. The first time +thou wert happy and calm, and no shadow of trouble was on thee; the +second time thine happy days were waning, though thou scarce knewest +it; but to-day and yesterday thou art constrained by the bonds of grief, +and wouldest loosen them if thou mightest.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘What meanest thou? How knowest thou this? +How may a stranger partake in my joy and my sorrow?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘As for yesterday, all the people might see thy grief +and know it. But when I beheld thee the first time, I saw thee +that thou wert more fair and lovely than all other women; and when I +was away from thee, the thought of thee and thine image were with me, +and I might not put them away; and oft at such and such a time I wondered +and said to myself, what is she doing now? though god wot I was dealing +with tangles and troubles and rough deeds enough. But the second +time I beheld thee, when I had looked to have great joy in the sight +of thee, my heart was smitten with a pang of grief; for I saw thee hanging +on the words and the looks of another man, who was light-minded toward +thee, and that thou wert troubled with the anguish of doubt and fear. +And he knew it not, nor saw it, though I saw it.’</p> +<p>Her face grew troubled, and the tearful passion stirred within her. +But she held it aback, and said, as anyone might have said it:</p> +<p>‘How wert thou in the Dale, mighty man? We saw thee not.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘I came hither hidden in other semblance than mine +own. But meddle not therewith; it availeth nought. Let me +say this, and do thou hearken to it. I saw thee yesterday in the +street, and thou wert as the ghost of thine old gladness; although belike +thou hast striven with sorrow; for I see thee with a sword by thy side, +and we have been told that thou, O fairest of women, hast given thyself +to the Warrior to be his damsel.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘that is sooth.’</p> +<p>He went on: ‘But the face which thou bearedst yesterday against +thy will, amidst all the people, that was because thou hadst seen my +sister the Sun-beam for the first time, and Face-of-god with her, hand +clinging to hand, lip longing for lip, desire unsatisfied, but glad +with all hope.’</p> +<p>She laid hand upon hand in the lap of her gown, and looked down, +and her voice trembled as she said:</p> +<p>‘Doth it avail to talk of this?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘I know not: it may avail; for I am grieved, and shall +be whilst thou art grieved; and it is my wont to strive with my griefs +till I amend them.’</p> +<p>She turned to him with kind eyes and said:</p> +<p>‘O mighty man, canst thou clear away the tangle which besetteth +the soul of her whose hope hath bewrayed her? Canst thou make +hope grow up in her heart? Friend, I will tell thee that when +I wed, I shall wed for the sake of the kindred, hoping for no joy therein. +Yea, or if by some chance the desire of man came again into my heart, +I should strive with it to rid myself of it, for I should know of it +that it was but a wasting folly, that should but beguile me, and wound +me, and depart, leaving me empty of joy and heedless of life.’</p> +<p>He shook his head and said: ‘Even so thou deemest now; but +one day it shall be otherwise. Or dost thou love thy sorrow? +I tell thee, as it wears thee and wears thee, thou shalt hate it, and +strive to shake it off.’</p> +<p>‘Nay, nay,’ she said; ‘I love it not; for not only +it grieveth me, but also it beateth me down and belittleth me.’</p> +<p>‘Good is that,’ said he. ‘I know how strong +thine heart is. Now, wilt thou take mine hand, which is verily +the hand of thy friend, and remember what I have told thee of my grief +which cannot be sundered from thine? Shall we not talk more concerning +this? For surely I shall soon see thee again, and often; since +the Warrior, who loveth me belike, leadeth thee into fellowship with +me. Yea, I tell thee, O friend, that in that fellowship shalt +thou find both the seed of hope, and the sun of desire that shall quicken +it.’</p> +<p>Therewith he arose and stood before her, and held out to her his +hand all hardened with the sword-hilt, and she took it, and stood up +facing him, and said:</p> +<p>‘This much will I tell thee, O friend; that what I have said +to thee this hour, I thought not to have said to any man; or to talk +with a man of the grief that weareth me, or to suffer him to see my +tears; and marvellous I deem it of thee, for all thy might, that thou +hast drawn this speech from out of me, and left me neither angry nor +ashamed, in spite of these tears; and thou whom I have known not, though +thou knewest me!</p> +<p>‘But now it were best that thou depart, and get thee home to +the House of the Face, where I was once so frequent; for I wot that +thou hast much to do; and as thou sayest, it will be in warfare that +I shall see thee. Now I thank thee for thy words and the thought +thou hast had of me, and the pain which thou hast taken to heal my hurt: +I thank thee, I thank thee, for as grievous as it is to show one’s +hurts even to a friend.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘O Bride, I thank thee for hearkening to my tale; +and one day shall I thank thee much more. Mayest thou fare well +in the Field and amidst the Folk!’</p> +<p>Therewith he kissed her hand, and turned away, and went across the +meadow and the stream, glad at heart and blithe with everyone; for kindness +grew in him as gladness grew.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII. OF THE FOLK-MOTE OF THE DALESMEN, THE SHEPHERD-FOLK, +AND THE WOODLAND CARLES: THE BANNER OF THE WOLF DISPLAYED</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Now came the day of the Great Folk-mote, and there was much thronging +from everywhere to the Mote-stead, but most from Burgstead itself, whereas +few of the Dale-dwellers who had been at the Fair had gone back home. +Albeit some of the Shepherds and of the Dalesmen of the westernmost +Dale had brought light tents, and tilted themselves in in the night +before the Mote down in the meadows below the Mote-stead. From +early morning there had been a stream of folk on the Portway setting +westward; and many came thus early that they might hold converse with +friends and well-wishers; and some that they might disport them in the +woods. Men went in no ordered bands, as the Burgstead men at least +had done on the day of the Weapon-show, save that a few of them who +were arrayed the bravest gathered about the banners, and went with them +to the Mote-stead; for all the banners must needs be there.</p> +<p>The Folk-mote was to be hallowed-in three hours before noon, as all +men knew; therefore an hour before that time were all men of the Dale +and the Shepherds assembled that might be looked for, save the Alderman +and the chieftains with the banner of the Burg, and these were not like +to come many minutes before the Hallowing. Folk were gathered +on the Field in such wise, that the men-at-arms made a great ring round +about the Doom-ring, (albeit there were many old men there, girt with +swords that they should never heave up again in battle), so that without +that ring there was nought save women and children. But when all +the other Houses were assembled, men looked around, and beheld the place +of the Woodlanders that it was empty; and they marvelled that they were +thus belated. For now all was ready, and a watcher had gone up +to the Tower on the height, and had with him the great Horn of Warning, +which could be heard past the Mote-stead and a great way down the Dale: +and if he saw foes coming from the East he should blow one blast; if +from the South, two; if from the West, three; if from the North, four.</p> +<p>So half an hour from the appointed time of Hallowing rose the rumour +that the Alderman was on the road, and presently they of the women who +were on the outside of the throng, by drawing nigh to the edge of the +sheer rock, could behold the Banner of the Burg on the Portway, and +soon after could see the wain, done about with green boughs, wherein +sat the chieftains in their glittering war-gear. Speedily they +spread the tidings, and a confused shout went up into the air; and in +a little while the wain stayed on Wildlake’s Way at the bottom +of the steep slope that went up to the Mote-stead, and the banner of +the Burg came on proudly up the hill. Soon all men beheld it, +and saw that the tall Hall-face bore it in front of his brother Face-of-god, +who came on gleaming in war-gear better than most men had seen; which +was indeed of his father’s fashioning, and his father’s +gift to him that morning.</p> +<p>After Face-of-god came the Alderman, and with him Folk-might leading +the Sun-beam by the hand, and then Stone-face and the Elder of the Dale-wardens; +and then the six Burg-wardens: as to the other Dale-wardens, they were +in their places on the Field.</p> +<p>So now those who had been standing up turned their faces toward the +Altar of the Gods, and those who had been sitting down sprang to their +feet, and the confused rumour of the throng rose into a clear shout +as the chieftains went to their places, and sat them down on the turf-seats +amidst the Doom-ring facing the Speech-hill and the Altar of the Gods. +Amidmost sat the Alderman, on his right hand Face-of-god, and out from +him Hall-face, and then Stone-face and three of the Wardens; but on +his left hand sat first the two Guests, then the Elder of the Dale-wardens, +and then the other three Burg-wardens; as for the Banner of the Burg, +its staff was stuck into the earth behind them, and the Banner raised +itself in the morning wind and flapped and rippled over their heads.</p> +<p>There then they sat, and folk abided, and it still lacked some minutes +of the due time, as the Alderman wotted by the shadow of the great standing-stone +betwixt him and the Altar. Therewithal came the sound of a great +horn from out of the wood on the north side, and men knew it for the +horn of the Woodland Carles, and were glad; for they could not think +why they should be belated; and now men stood up a-tiptoe and on other’s +shoulders to look over the heads of the women and children to behold +their coming; but their empty place was at the southwest corner of the +ring of men.</p> +<p>So presently men beheld them marching toward their place, cleaving +the throng of the women and children, a great company; for besides that +they had with them two score more of men under weapons than on the day +of the Weapon-show, all their little ones and women and outworn elders +were with them, some on foot, some riding on oxen and asses. In +their forefront went the two signs of the Battle-shaft and the War-spear. +But moreover, in front of all was borne a great staff with the cloth +of a banner wrapped round about it, and tied up with a hempen yarn that +it might not be seen.</p> +<p>Stark and mighty men they looked; tall and lean, broad-shouldered, +dark-faced. As they came amongst the throng the voice of their +horn died out, and for a few moments they fared on with no sound save +the tramp of their feet; then all at once the man who bare the hidden +banner lifted up one hand, and straightway they fell to singing, and +with that song they came to their place. And this is some of what +they sang:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>O white, white Sun, what things of wonder<br /> Hast +thou beheld from thy wall of the sky!<br />All the Roofs of the Rich +and the grief thereunder,<br /> As the fear of the +Earl-folk flitteth by!</p> +<p>Thou hast seen the Flame steal forth from the Forest<br /> To +slay the slumber of the lands,<br />As the Dusky Lord whom thou abhorrest<br /> Clomb +up to thy Burg unbuilt with hands.</p> +<p>Thou lookest down from thy door the golden,<br /> Nor +batest thy wide-shining mirth,<br />As the ramparts fall, and the roof-trees +olden<br /> Lie smouldering low on the burning earth.</p> +<p>When flitteth the half-dark night of summer<br /> From +the face of the murder great and grim,<br />’Tis thou thyself +and no new-comer<br /> Shines golden-bright on the +deed undim.</p> +<p>Art thou our friend, O Day-dawn’s Lover?<br /> Full +oft thine hand hath sent aslant<br />Bright beams athwart the Wood-bear’s +cover,<br /> Where the feeble folk and the nameless +haunt.</p> +<p>Thou hast seen us quail, thou hast seen us cower,<br /> Thou +hast seen us crouch in the Green Abode,<br />While for us wert thou +slaying slow hour by hour,<br /> And smoothing down +the war-rough road.</p> +<p>Yea, the rocks of the Waste were thy Dawns upheaving,<br /> To +let the days of the years go through;<br />And thy Noons the tangled +brake were cleaving<br /> The slow-foot seasons’ +deed to do.</p> +<p>Then gaze adown on this gift of our giving,<br /> For +the WOLF comes wending frith and ford,<br />And the Folk fares forth +from the dead to the living,<br /> For the love of +the Lief by the light of the Sword.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Then ceased the song, and the whole band of the Woodlanders came +pouring tumultuously into the space allotted them, like the waters pouring +over a river-dam, their white swords waving aloft in the morning sunlight; +and wild and strange cries rose up from amidst them, with sobbing and +weeping of joy. But soon their troubled front sank back into ordered +ranks, their bright blades stood upright in their hands before them, +and folk looked on their company, and deemed it the very Terror of battle +and Render of the ranks of war. Right well were they armed; for +though many of their weapons were ancient and somewhat worn, yet were +they the work of good smiths of old days; and moreover, if any of them +lacked good war-gear of his own, that had the Alderman and his sons +made good to them.</p> +<p>But before the hedge of steel stood the two tall men who held in +their hands the war-tokens of the Battle-shaft and the War-spear, and +betwixt them stood one who was indeed the tallest man of the whole assembly, +who held the great staff of the hidden banner. And now he reached +up his hand, and plucked at the yarn that bound it, which of set purpose +was but feeble, and tore it off, and then shook the staff aloft with +both hands, and shouted, and lo! the Banner of the Wolf with the Sun-burst +behind him, glittering-bright, new-woven by the women of the kindred, +ran out in the fresh wind, and flapped and rippled before His warriors +there assembled.</p> +<p>Then from all over the Mote-stead arose an exceeding great shout, +and all men waved aloft their weapons; but the men of Shadowy Vale who +were standing amidst the men of the Face knew not how to demean themselves, +and some of them ran forth into the Field and leapt for joy, tossing +their swords into the air, and catching them by the hilts as they fell: +and amidst it all the Woodlanders now stood silent, unmoving, as men +abiding the word of onset.</p> +<p>As for that brother and sister: the Sun-beam flushed red all over +her face, and pressed her hands to her bosom, and then the passion of +tears over-mastered her, and her breast heaved, and the tears gushed +out of her eyes, and her body was shaken with weeping. But Folk-might +sat still, looking straight before him, his eyes glittering, his teeth +set, his right hand clutching hard at the hilts of his sword, which +lay naked across his knees. And the Bride, who stood clad in her +begemmed and glittering war-array in the forefront of the Men of the +Steer, nigh unto the seats of the chieftains, beheld Folk-might, and +her face flushed and brightened, and still she looked upon him. +The Alderman’s face was as of one pleased and proud; yet was its +joy shadowed as it were by a cloud of compassion. Face-of-god +sat like the very image of the War-god, and stirred not, nor looked +toward the Sun-beam; for still the thought of the after-grief of battle, +and the death of friends and folk that loved him, lay heavy on his heart, +for all that it beat wildly at the shouting of the men.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIII. OF THE GREAT FOLK-MOTE: ATONEMENTS GIVEN, +AND MEN MADE SACKLESS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Amidst the clamour uprose the Alderman; for it was clear to all men +that the Folk-mote should be holden at once, and the matters of the +War, and the Fellowship, and the choosing of the War-leader, speedily +dealt with. So the Alderman fell to hallowing in the Folk-mote: +he went up to the Altar of the Gods, and took the Gold-ring off it, +and did it on his arm; then he drew his sword and waved it toward the +four aírts, and spake; and the noise and shouting fell, and there +was silence but for him:</p> +<p>‘Herewith I hallow in this Folk-mote of the Men of the Dale +and the Sheepcotes and the Woodland, in the name of the Warrior and +the Earth-god and the Fathers of the kindreds. Now let not the +peace of the Mote be broken. Let not man rise against man, or +bear blade or hand, or stick or stone against any. If any man +break the Peace of the Holy Mote, let him be a man accursed, a wild-beast +in the Holy Places; an outcast from home and hearth, from bed and board, +from mead and acre; not to be holpen with bread, nor flesh, nor wine; +nor flax, nor wool, nor any cloth; nor with sword, nor shield, nor axe, +nor plough-share; nor with horse, nor ox, nor ass; with no saddle-beast +nor draught-beast; nor with wain, nor boat, nor way-leading; nor with +fire nor water; nor with any world’s wealth. Thus let him +who hath cast out man be cast out by man. Now is hallowed-in the +Folk-mote of the Men of the Dale and the Sheepcotes and the Woodlands.’</p> +<p>Therewith he waved his sword again toward the four aírts, +and went and sat down in his place. But presently he arose again, +and said:</p> +<p>‘Now if man hath aught to say against man, and claimeth boot +of any, or would lay guilt on any man’s head, let him come forth +and declare it; and the judges shall be named, and the case shall be +tried this afternoon or to-morrow. Yet first I shall tell you +that I, the Alderman of the Dalesmen, doomed one Iron-face of the House +of the Face to pay a double fine, for that he drew a sword at the Gate-thing +of Burgstead with the intent to break the peace thereof. Thou, +Green-sleeve, bring forth the peace-breaker’s fine, that Iron-face +may lay the same on the Altar.’</p> +<p>Then came forth a man from the men of the Face bearing a bag, and +he brought it to Iron-face, who went up to the Altar and poured forth +weighed gold from the bag thereon, and said:</p> +<p>‘Warden of the Dale, come thou and weigh it!’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ quoth the Warden, ‘it needeth not, no man +here doubteth thee, Alderman Iron-face.’</p> +<p>A murmur of yeasay went up, and none had a word to say against the +Alderman, but they praised him rather: also men were eager to hear of +the war, and the fellowship, and to be done with these petty matters. +Then the Alderman rose again and said:</p> +<p>‘Hath any man a grief against any other of the Kindreds of +the Dale, or the Sheepcotes, or the Woodlands?’</p> +<p>None answered or stirred; so after he had waited a while, he said:</p> +<p>‘Is there any who hath any guilt to lay against a Stranger, +an Outlander, being such a man as he deems we can come at?’</p> +<p>Thereat was a stir amongst the Men of the Fleece of the Shepherds, +and their ranks opened, and there came forth an ill-favoured lean old +man, long-nebbed, blear-eyed, and bent, girt with a rusty old sword, +but not otherwise armed. And all men knew Penny-thumb, who had +been ransacked last autumn. As he came forth, it seemed as if +his neighbours had been trying to hold him back; but a stout, broad-shouldered +man, black-haired and red-bearded, made way for the old man, and led +him out of the throng, and stood by him; and this man was well armed +at all points, and looked a doughty carle. He stood side by side +with Penny-thumb, right in front of the men of his house, and looked +about him at first somewhat uneasily, as though he were ashamed of his +fellow; but though many smiled, none laughed aloud; and they forbore, +partly because they knew the man to be a good man, partly because of +the solemn tide of the Folk-mote, and partly in sooth because they wished +all this to be over, and were as men who had no time for empty mirth.</p> +<p>Then said the Alderman: ‘What wouldest thou, Penny-thumb, and +thou, Bristler, son of Brightling?’</p> +<p>Then Penny-thumb began to speak in a high squeaky voice:</p> +<p>‘Alderman, and Lord of the Folk!’ But therewithal +Bristle, pulled him back, and said:</p> +<p>‘I am the man who hath taken this quarrel upon me, and have +sworn upon the Holy Boar to carry this feud through; and we deem, Alderman, +that if they who slew Rusty and ransacked Penny-thumb be not known now, +yet they soon may be.’</p> +<p>As he spake, came forth those three men of the Shepherds and the +two Dalesmen who had sworn with him on the Holy Boar. Then up +stood Folk-might, and came forth into the field, and said:</p> +<p>‘Bristler, son of Brightling, and ye other good men and true, +it is but sooth that the ransackers and the slayer may soon be known; +and here I declare them unto you: I it was and none other who slew Rusty; +and I was the leader of those who ransacked Penny-thumb, and cowed Harts-bane +of Greentofts. As for the slaying of Rusty, I slew him because +he chased me, and would not forbear, so that I must either slay or be +slain, as hath befallen me erewhile, and will befall again, methinks. +As for the ransacking of Penny-thumb, I needed the goods that I took, +and he needed them not, since he neither used them, nor gave them away, +and, they being gone, he hath lived no worser than aforetime. +Now I say, that if ye will take the outlawry off me, which, as I hear, +ye laid upon me, not knowing me, then will I handsel self-doom to thee, +Bristler, if thou wilt bear thy grief to purse, and I will pay thee +what thou wilt out of hand; or if perchance thou wilt call me to Holm, +thither will I go, if thou and I come unslain out of this war. +As to the ransacking and cowing of Harts-bane, I say that I am sackless +therein, because the man is but a ruffler and a man of violence, and +hath cowed many men of the Dale; and if he gainsay me, then do I call +him to the Holm after this war is over; either him or any man who will +take his place before my sword.’</p> +<p>Then he held his peace, and man spake to man, and a murmur arose, +as they said for the more part that it was a fair and manly offer. +But Bristler called his fellows and Penny-thumb to him, and they spake +together; and sometimes Penny-thumb’s shrill squeak was heard +above the deep-voiced talk of the others; for he was a man that harboured +malice. But at last Bristler spake out and said:</p> +<p>‘Tall man, we know that thou art a chieftain and of good will +to the men of the Dale and their friends, and that want drave thee to +the ransacking, and need to the manslaying, and neither the living nor +the dead to whom thou art guilty are to be called good men; therefore +will I bring the matter to purse, if thou wilt handsel me self-doom.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, even so let it be,’ quoth Folk-might; and stepped +forward and took Bristler by the hand, and handselled him self-doom. +Then said Bristler:</p> +<p>‘Though Rusty was no good man, and though he followed thee +to slay thee, yet was he in his right therein, since he was following +up his goodman’s gear; therefore shalt thou pay a full blood-wite +for him, that is to say, the worth of three hundreds in weed-stuff in +whatso goods thou wilt. As for the ransacking of Penny-thumb, +he shall deem himself well paid if thou give him our hundreds in weed-stuff +for that which thou didst borrow of him.’</p> +<p>Then Penny-thumb set up his squeak again, but no man hearkened to +him, and each man said to his neighbour that it was well doomed of Bristler, +and neither too much nor too little. But Folk-might bade Wood-wont +to bring thither to him that which he had borne to the Mote; and he +brought forth a big sack, and Folk-might emptied it on the earth, and +lo! the silver rings of the slain felons, and they lay in a heap on +the green field, and they were the best of silver. Then the Elder +of the Dale-wardens weighed out from the heap the blood-wite for Rusty, +according to the due measure of the hundred in weed-stuff, and delivered +it unto Bristler. And Folk-might said:</p> +<p>‘Draw nigh now, Penny-thumb, and take what thou wilt of this +gear, which I need not, and grudge not at me henceforward.’</p> +<p>But Penny-thumb was afraid, and abode where he was; and Bristler +laughed, and said: ‘Take it, goodman, take it; spare not other +men’s goods as thou dost thine own.’</p> +<p>And Folk-might stood by, smiling faintly: so Penny-thumb plucked +up a heart, and drew nigh trembling, and took what he durst from that +heap; and all that stood by said that he had gotten a full double of +what had been awarded to him. But as for him, he went his ways +straight from the Mote-stead, and made no stay till he had gotten him +home, and laid the silver up in a strong coffer; and thereafter he bewailed +him sorely that he had not taken the double of that which he took, since +none would have said him nay.</p> +<p>When he was gone, the Alderman arose and said:</p> +<p>‘Now, since the fines have been paid duly and freely, according +to the dooming of Bristler, take we off the outlawry from Folk-might +and his fellows, and account them to be sackless before us.’</p> +<p>Then he called for other cases; but no man had aught more to bring +forward against any man, either of the kindreds or the Strangers.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIX. OF THE GREAT FOLK-MOTE: MEN TAKE REDE OF THE +WAR-FARING, THE FELLOWSHIP, AND THE WAR-LEADER. FOLK-MIGHT TELLETH +WHENCE HIS PEOPLE CAME. THE FOLK-MOTE SUNDERED</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Now a great silence fell upon the throng, and they stood as men abiding +some new matter. Unto them arose the Alderman, and said:</p> +<p>‘Men of the Dale, and ye Shepherds and Woodlanders; it is well +known to you that we have foemen in the wood and beyond it; and now +have we gotten sure tidings, that they will not abide at home or in +the wood, but are minded to fall upon us at home. Now therefore +I will not ask you whether ye will have peace or war; for with these +foemen ye may have peace no otherwise save by war. But if ye think +with me, three things have ye to determine: first, whether ye will abide +your foes in your own houses, or will go meet them at theirs; next, +whether ye will take to you as fellows in arms a valiant folk of the +children of the Gods, who are foemen to our foemen; and lastly, what +man ye will have to be your War-leader. Now, I bid all those here +assembled, to speak hereof, any man of them that will, either what they +may have conceived in their own minds, or what their kindred may have +put into their mouths to speak.’</p> +<p>Therewith he sat down, and in a little while came forth old Hall-ward +of the House of the Steer, and stood before the Alderman, and said: +‘O Alderman, all we say: Since war is awake we will not tarry, +but will go meet our foes while it is yet time. The valiant men +of whom thou tellest shall be our fellows, were there but three of them. +We know no better War-leader than Face-of-god of the House of the Face. +Let him lead us.’</p> +<p>Therewith he went his ways; and next came forth War-well, and said: +‘The House of the Bridge would have Face-of-god for War-leader, +these tall men for fellows, and the shortest way to meet the foe.’ +And he went back to his place.</p> +<p>Next came Fox of Upton, and said: ‘Time presses, or much might +be spoken. Thus saith the House of the Bull: Let us go meet the +foe, and take these valiant strangers for way-leaders, and Face-of-god +for War-leader.’ And he also went back again.</p> +<p>Then came forth two men together, an old man and a young, and the +old man spake as soon as he stood still: ‘The Men of the Vine +bid me say their will: They will not stay at home to have their houses +burned over their heads, themselves slain on their own hearths, and +their wives haled off to thralldom. They will take any man for +their fellow in arms who will smite stark strokes on their side. +They know Face-of-god, and were liefer of him for War-leader than any +other, and they will follow him wheresoever he leadeth. Thus my +kindred biddeth me say, and I hight Fork-beard of Lea. If I live +through this war, I shall have lived through five.’</p> +<p>Therewith he went back to his place; but the young man lifted up +his voice and said: ‘To all this I say yea, and so am I bidden +by the kindred of the Sickle. I am Red-beard of the Knolls, the +son of my father.’ And he went to his place again.</p> +<p>Then came forth Stone-face, and said: ‘The House of the Face +saith: Lead us through the wood, O Face-of-god, thou War-leader, and +ye warriors of the Wolf. I am Stone-face, as men know, and this +word hath been given to me by the kindred.’ And he took +his place again.</p> +<p>Then came forth together the three chiefs of the Shepherds, to wit +Hound-under-Greenbury, Strongitharm, and the Hyllier; and Strongitharm +spake for all three, and said:</p> +<p>‘The Men of Greenbury, and they of the Fleece and the Thorn, +are of one accord, and bid us say that they are well pleased to have +Face-of-god for War-leader; and that they will follow him and the warriors +of the Wolf to live or die with them; and that they are ready to go +meet the foe at once, and will not skulk behind the walls of Greenbury.’</p> +<p>Therewith the three went back again to their places.</p> +<p>Then came forth that tall man that bare the Banner of the Wolf, when +he had given the staff into the hands of him who stood next. He +came and stood over against the seat of the chieftains; and for a while +he could say no word, but stood struggling with the strong passion of +his joy; but at last he lifted his hands aloft, and cried out in a loud +voice:</p> +<p>‘O war, war! O death! O wounding and grief! +O loss of friends and kindred! let all this be rather than the drawing +back of meeting hands and the sundering of yearning hearts!’ and +he went back hastily to his place. But from the ranks of the Woodlanders +ran forth a young man, and cried out:</p> +<p>‘As is the word of Red-wolf, so is my word, Bears-bane of Carlstead; +and this is the word which our little Folk hath put into our mouths; +and O! that our hands may show the meaning of our mouths; for nought +else can.’</p> +<p>Then indeed went up a great shout, though many forebore to cry out; +for now were they too much moved for words or sounds. And in special +was Face-of-god moved; and he scarce knew which way to look, lest he +should break out into sobs and weeping; for of late he had been much +among the Woodlanders, and loved them much.</p> +<p>Then all the noise and clamour fell, and it was to men as if they +who had come thither a folk, had now become an host of war.</p> +<p>But once again the Alderman rose up and spake:</p> +<p>‘Now have ye yeasaid three things: That we take Face-of-god +of the House of the Face for our War-leader; that we fare under weapons +at once against them who would murder us; and that we take the valiant +Folk of the Wolf for our fellows in arms.’</p> +<p>Therewith he stayed his speech, and this time the shout arose clear +and most mighty, with the tossing up of swords and the clashing of weapons +on shields.</p> +<p>Then he said: ‘Now, if any man will speak, here is the War-leader, +and here is the chief of our new friends, to answer to whatso any of +the kindred would have answered.’</p> +<p>Thereon came forth the Fiddle from amongst the Men of the Sickle, +and drew somewhat nigh to the Alderman, and said:</p> +<p>‘Alderman, we would ask of the War-leader if he hath devised +the manner of our assembling, and the way of our war-faring, and the +day of our hosting. More than this I will not ask of him, because +we wot that in so great an assembly it may be that the foe may have +some spy of whom we wot not; and though this be not likely, yet some +folk may babble; therefore it is best for the wise to be wise everywhere +and always. Therefore my rede it is, that no man ask any more +concerning this, but let it lie with the War-leader to bring us face +to face with the foe as speedily as he may.’</p> +<p>All men said that this was well counselled. But Face-of-god +arose and said: ‘Ye Men of the Dale, ye Shepherds and Woodlanders, +meseemeth the Fiddle hath spoken wisely. Now therefore I answer +him and say, that I have so ordered everything since the Gate-thing +was holden at Burgstead, that we may come face to face with the foemen +by the shortest of roads. Every man shall be duly summoned to +the Hosting, and if any man fail, let it be accounted a shame to him +for ever.’</p> +<p>A great shout followed on his words, and he sat down again. +But Fox of Upton came forth and said:</p> +<p>‘O Alderman, we have yeasaid the fellowship of the valiant +men who have come to us from out of the waste; but this we have done, +not because we have known them, otherwise than by what our kinsman Face-of-god +hath told us concerning them, but because we have seen clearly that +they will be of much avail to us in our warfare. Now, therefore, +if the tall chieftain who sitteth beside thee were to do us to wit what +he is, and whence he and his are come, it were well, and fain were we +thereof; but if he listeth not to tell us, that also shall be well.’</p> +<p>Then arose Folk-might in his place; but or ever he could open his +mouth to speak, the tall Red-wolf strode forward bearing with him the +Banner of the Wolf and the Sun-burst, and came and stood beside him; +and the wind ran through the folds of the banner, and rippled it out +above the heads of those twain. Then Folk-might spake and said:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘O Men of the Dale and the Sheepcotes, I will do as ye bid +me do;<br />And fain were ye of the story if every deal ye knew.<br />But +long, long were its telling, were I to tell it all:<br />Let it bide +till the Cup of Deliverance ye drink from hall to hall.</p> +<p>‘Like you we be of the kindreds, of the Sons of the Gods we +come,<br />Midst the Mid-earth’s mighty Woodland of old we had +our home;<br />But of older time we abided ’neath the mountains +of the Earth,<br />O’er which the Sun ariseth to waken woe and +mirth.</p> +<p>Great were we then and many; but the long days wore us thin,<br />And +war, wherein the winner hath weary work to win.<br />And the woodland +wall behind us e’en like ourselves was worn,<br />And the tramp +of the hosts of the foemen adown its glades was borne<br />On the wind +that bent our wheat-fields. So in the morn we rose,<br />And left +behind the stubble and the autumn-fruited close,<br />And went our ways +to the westward, nor turned aback to see<br />The glare of our burning +houses rise over brake and tree.<br />But the foe was fierce and speedy, +nor long they tarried there,<br />And through the woods of battle our +laden wains must fare;<br />And the Sons of the Wolf were minished, +and the maids of the Wolf waxed few,<br />As amidst the victory-singing +we fared the wild-wood through.</p> +<p>‘So saith the ancient story, that west and west we went,<br />And +many a day of battle we had in brake, on bent;<br />Whilst here a while +we tarried, and there we hastened on,<br />And still the battle-harvest +from many a folk we won.</p> +<p>‘Of the tale of the days who wotteth? Of the years what +man can tell,<br />While the Sons of the Wolf were wandering, and knew +not where to dwell?<br />But at last we clomb the mountains, and mickle +was our toil,<br />As high the spear-wood clambered of the drivers of +the spoil;<br />And tangled were the passes and the beacons flared behind,<br />And +the horns of gathering onset came up upon the wind.<br />So saith the +ancient story, that we stood in a mountain-cleft,<br />Where the ways +and the valleys sundered to the right hand and the left.<br />There +in the place of sundering all woeful was the rede;<br />We knew no land +before us, and behind was heavy need.<br />As the sword cleaves through +the byrny, so there the mountain flank<br />Cleft through the God-kin’s +people; and ne’er again we drank<br />The wine of war together, +or feasted side by side<br />In the Feast-hall of the Warrior on the +fruit of the battle-tide.<br />For there we turned and sundered; unto +the North we went<br />And up along the waters, and the clattering stony +bent;<br />And unto the South and the Sheepcotes down went our sister’s +sons;<br />And O for the years passed over since we saw those valiant +ones!’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>He ceased, and laid his right hand on the banner-staff a little below +the left hand of Red-wolf; and men were so keen to hear each word that +he spake, that there was no cry nor sound of voices when he had done, +only the sound of the rippling banner of the Wolf over the heads of +those twain. The Sun-beam bowed her head now, and wept silently. +But the Bride, she had drawn her sword, and held it upright in her hand +before her, and the sun smote fire from out of it.</p> +<p>Then it was but a little while before Red-wolf lifted up his voice, +and sang:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘Hearken a wonder, O Folk of the Field,<br />How they that +did sunder stand shield beside shield!</p> +<p>Lo! the old wont and manner by fearless folk made,<br />On the Bole +of the Banner the brothers’ hands laid.</p> +<p>Lo! here the token of what hath betid!<br />Grown whole is the broken, +found that which was hid.</p> +<p>Now one way we follow whate’er shall befall;<br />As seeketh +the swallow his yesteryear’s hall.</p> +<p>Seldom folk fewer to fight-stead hath fared;<br />Ne’er have +men truer the battle-reed bared.</p> +<p>Grey locks now I carry, and old am I grown,<br />Nor looked I to +tarry to meet with mine own.</p> +<p>For we who remember the deeds of old days<br />Were nought but the +ember of battle ablaze.</p> +<p>For what man might aid us? what deed and what day<br />Should come +where Weird laid us aloof from the way?</p> +<p>What man save that other of Twain rent apart,<br />Our war-friend, +our Brother, the piece of our heart.</p> +<p>Then hearken the wonder how shield beside shield<br />The twain that +did sunder wend down to the Field!’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Now when he had made an end, men could no longer forebear the shout; +and it went up into the heavens, and was borne by the west-wind down +the Dale to the ears of the stay-at-home women and men unmeet to go +abroad, and it quickened their blood and the spirits within them as +they heard it, and they smiled and were fain; for they knew that their +kinsfolk were glad.</p> +<p>But when there was quiet on the Mote-field again, Folk-might spake +again and said;</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘It is sooth that my Brother sayeth, and that now again we +wend,<br />All the Sons of the Wolf together, till the trouble hath +an end.<br />But as for that tale of the Ancients, it saith that we +who went<br />To the northward, climbed and stumbled o’er many +a stony bent,<br />Till we happed on that isle of the waste-land, and +the grass of Shadowy Vale,<br />Where we dwelt till we throve a little, +and felt our might avail.<br />Then we fared abroad from the shadow +and the little-lighted hold,<br />And the increase fell to the valiant, +and the spoil to the battle-bold,<br />And never a man gainsaid us with +the weapons in our hands;<br />And in Silver-dale the happy we gat us +life and lands.</p> +<p>‘So wore the years o’er-wealthy; and meseemeth that ye +know<br />How we sowed and reaped destruction, and the Day of the overthrow:<br />How +we leaned on the staff we had broken, and put our lives in the hand<br />Of +those whom we had vanquished and the feeble of the land;<br />And these +were the stone of stumbling, and the burden not to be borne,<br />When +the battle-blast fell on us and our day was over-worn.<br />Thus then +did our wealth bewray us, and left us wise and sad;<br />And to you, +bold men, it falleth once more to make us glad,<br />If so your hearts +are bidding, and ye deem the deed of worth.<br />Such were we; what +we shall be, ’tis yours to say henceforth.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>He said furthermore: ‘How great we have been I have told you +already; and ye shall see for yourselves how little we be now. +Is it enough, and will ye have us for friends and brothers? How +say ye?’</p> +<p>They answered with shout upon shout, so that all the place and the +wild-wood round about was full of the voice of their crying; but when +the clamour fell, then spake the Alderman and said:</p> +<p>‘Friend, and chieftain of the Wolf, thou mayst hear by this +shouting of the people that we have no mind to naysay our yea-say. +And know that it is not our use and manner to seek the strong for friends, +and to thrust aside the weak; but rather to choose for our friends them +who are of like mind to us, men in whom we put our trust. From +henceforth then there is brotherhood between us; we are yours, and ye +are ours; and let this endure for ever!’</p> +<p>Then were all men full of joy; and now at last the battle seemed +at hand, and the peace beyond the battle.</p> +<p>Then men brought the hallowed beasts all garlanded with flowers into +the Doom-ring, and there were they slain and offered up unto the Gods, +to wit the Warrior, the Earth-god, and the Fathers; and thereafter was +solemn feast holden on the Field of the Folk-mote, and all men were +fain and merry. Nevertheless, not all men abode there the feast +through; for or ever the afternoon was well worn, were many men wending +along the Portway eastward toward the Upper Dale, each man in his war-gear +and with a scrip hung about him; and these were they who were bound +for the trysting-place and the journey over the waste.</p> +<p>So the Folk-mote was sundered; and men went to their houses, and +there abode in peace the time of their summoning; since they wotted +well that the Hosting was afoot.</p> +<p>But as for the Woodlanders, who were at the Mote-stead with all their +folk, women, children, and old men, they went not back again to Carlstead; +but prayed the neighbours of the Middle Dale to suffer them to abide +there awhile, which they yeasaid with a good will. So the Woodlanders +tilted themselves in, the more part of them, down in the meadows below +the Mote-stead, along either side of Wildlake’s Way; but their +ancient folk, and some of the women and children, the neighbours would +have into their houses, and the rest they furnished with victual and +all that they needed without price, looking upon them as their very +guests. For indeed they deemed that they could see that these +men would never return to Carlstead, but would abide with the Men of +the Wolf in Silver-dale, once it were won. And this they deemed +but meet and right, yet were they sorry thereof; for the Woodlanders +were well beloved of all the Dalesmen; and now that they had gotten +to know that they were come of so noble a kindred, they were better +beloved yet, and more looked upon.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XL. OF THE HOSTING IN SHADOWY VALE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>It was on the evening of the fourth day after the Folk-mote that +there came through the Waste to the rocky edge of Shadowy Vale a band +of some fifteen score of men-at-arms, and with them a multitude of women +and children and old men, some afoot, some riding on asses and bullocks; +and with them were sumpter asses and neat laden with household goods, +and a few goats and kine. And this was the whole folk of the Woodlanders +come to the Hosting in Shadowy Vale and the Home of the Children of +the Wolf. Their leaders of the way were Wood-father and Wood-wont +and two other carles of Shadowy Vale; and Red-wolf the tall, and Bears-bane +and War-grove were the captains and chieftains of their company.</p> +<p>Thus then they entered into the narrow pass aforesaid, which was +the ingate to the Vale from the Waste, and little by little its dimness +swallowed up their long line. As they went by the place where +the lowering of the rock-wall gave a glimpse of the valley, they looked +down into it as Face-of-god had done, but much change was there in little +time. There was the black wall of crags on the other side stretching +down to the ghyll of the great Force; there ran the deep green waters +of the Shivering Flood; but the grass which Face-of-god had seen naked +of everything but a few kine, thereon now the tents of men stood thick. +Their hearts swelled within them as they beheld it, but they forebore +the shout and the cry till they should be well within the Vale, and +so went down silently into the darkness. But as their eyes caught +that dim image of the Wolf on the wall of the pass, man pointed it out +to man, and not a few turned and kissed it hurriedly; and to them it +seemed that many a kiss had been laid on that dear token since the days +of old, and that the hard stone had been worn away by the fervent lips +of men, and that the air of the mirk place yet quivered with the vows +sworn over the sword-blade.</p> +<p>But down through the dark they went, and so came on to the stony +scree at the end of the pass and into the Vale; and the whole Folk save +the three chieftains flowed over it and stood about it down on the level +grass of the Vale. But those three stood yet on the top of the +scree, bearing the war-signs of the Shaft and the Spear, and betwixt +them the banner of the Wolf and the Sunburst newly displayed to the +winds of Shadowy Vale.</p> +<p>Up and down the Vale they looked, and saw before the tents of men +the old familiar banners of Burgdale rising and falling in the evening +wind. But amidst of the Doom-ring was pitched a great banner, +whereon was done the image of the Wolf with red gaping jaws on a field +of green; and about him stood other banners, to wit, The Silver Arm +on a red field, the Red Hand on a white field, and on green fields both, +the Golden Bushel and the Ragged Sword.</p> +<p>All about the plain shone glittering war-gear of men as they moved +hither and thither, and a stream of folk began at once to draw toward +the scree to look on those new-comers; and amidst the helmed Burgdalers +and the white-coated Shepherds went the tall men of the Wolf, bare-headed +and unarmed save for their swords, mingled with the fair strong women +of the kindred, treading barefoot the soft grass of their own Vale.</p> +<p>Presently there was a great throng gathered round about the Woodlanders, +and each man as he joined it waved hand or weapon toward them, and the +joy of their welcome sent a confused clamour through the air. +Then forth from the throng stepped Folk-might, unarmed save his sword, +and behind him was Face-of-god, in his war-gear save his helm, hand +in hand with the Sun-beam, who was clad in her goodly flowered green +kirtle, her feet naked like her sisters of the kindred.</p> +<p>Then Folk-might cried aloud: ‘A full and free greeting to our +brothers! Well be ye, O Sons of our Ancient Fathers! And +to-day are ye the dearer to us because we see that ye have brought us +a gift, to wit, your wives and children, and your grandsires unmeet +for war. By this token we see how great is your trust in us, and +that it is your meaning never to sunder from us again. O well +be ye; well be ye!’</p> +<p>Then spake Red-wolf, and said: ‘Ye Sons of the Wolf, who parted +from us of old time in that cleft of the mountains, it is our very selves +that we give unto you; and these are a part of ourselves; how then should +we leave them behind us? Bear witness, O men of Burgdale and the +Sheepcotes, that we have become one Folk with the men of Shadowy Vale, +never to be sundered again!’</p> +<p>Then all that multitude shouted with a loud voice; and when the shout +had died away, Folk-might spake again:</p> +<p>‘O Warriors of the Sundering, here shall your wives and children +abide, while we go a little journey to rejoice our hearts with the hard +handplay, and take to us that which we have missed: and to-morrow morn +is appointed for this same journey, unless ye be over foot-weary with +the ways of the Waste.’</p> +<p>Red-wolf smiled as he answered: ‘This ye say in jest, brother; +for ye may see that our day’s journey hath not been over-much +for our old men; how then should it weary those who may yet bear sword? +We are ready for the road and eager for the handplay.’</p> +<p>‘This is well,’ said Folk-might, ‘and what was +to be looked for. Therefore, brother, do ye and your counsel-mates +come straightway to the Hall of the Wolf; wherein, after ye have eaten +and drunken, shall we take counsel with our brethren of Burgdale and +the Sheepcotes, so that all may be ordered for battle!’</p> +<p>Said Red-wolf: ‘Good is that, if we must needs abide till to-morrow; +for verily we came not hither to eat and drink and rest our bodies; +but it must be as ye will have it.’</p> +<p>Then the Sun-beam left the hand of Face-of-god and came forward, +and held out both her palms to the Woodland-folk, and spake in a voice +that was heard afar, though it were a woman’s, so clear and sweet +it was; and she said:</p> +<p>‘O Warriors of the Sundering, ye who be not needed in the Hall, +and ye our sisters with your little ones and your fathers, come now +to us and down to the tents which we have arrayed for you, and there +think for a little that we are all at our very home that we long for +and have yet to win, and be ye merry with us and make us merry.’</p> +<p>Therewith she stepped forward daintily and entered into their throng, +and took an old man of the Woodlanders by the hand, and kissed his cheek +and led him away, and the coming rest seemed sweet to him. And +then came other women of the Vale, kind and fair and smiling, and led +away, some an old mother of the Wood-landers, some a young wife, some +a pair of lads; and not a few forsooth kissed and embraced the stark +warriors, and went away with them toward the tents, which stood along +the side of the Shivering Flood where it was at its quietest; for there +was the grass the softest and most abundant. There on the green +grass were tables arrayed, and lamps were hung above them on spears, +to be litten when the daylight should fail. And the best of the +victual which the Vale could give was spread on the boards, along with +wine and dainties, bought in Silver-dale, or on the edges of the Westland +with sword-strokes and arrow-flight.</p> +<p>There then they feasted and were merry; and the Sun-beam and Bow-may +and the other women of the Vale served them at table, and were very +blithe with them, caressing them with soft words, and with clipping +and kissing, as folk who were grown exceeding dear to them; so that +that eve of battle was softer and sweeter to them than any hour of their +life. With these feasters were God-swain and Spear-fist of the +delivered thralls of Silver-dale as glad as glad might be; but Wolf-stone +their eldest was gone with Dallach to the Council in the Hall.</p> +<p>The men of Burgdale and the Shepherds feasted otherwhere in all content, +nor lacked folk of the Vale to serve them. Amongst the men of +the Face were the ten delivered thralls who had heart to meet their +masters in arms: seven of them were of Rose-dale and three of Silver-dale.</p> +<p>The Bride was with her kindred of the Steer, with whom were many +men of Shadowy Vale, and she served her friends and fellows clad in +her war-gear, save helm and hauberk, bearing herself as one who is serving +dear guests. And men equalled her for her beauty to the Gods of +the High Place and the Choosers of the Slain; and they who had not beheld +her before marvelled at her, and her loveliness held all men’s +hearts in a net of desire, so that they forebore their meat to gaze +upon her; and if perchance her hand touched some young man, or her cheek +or sweet-breathed mouth came nigh to his face, he became bewildered +and wist not where he was, nor what to do. Yet was she as lowly +and simple of speech and demeanour as if she were a gooseherd of fourteen +winters.</p> +<p>In the Hall was a goodly company, and all the leaders of the Folk +were therein, and Folk-might and the War-leader sitting in the midst +of those stone seats on the days. There then they agreed on the +whole ordering of the battle and the wending of the host, as shall be +told later on; and this matter was long a-doing, and when it was done, +men went to their places to sleep, for the night was well worn.</p> +<p>But when men had departed and all was still, Folk-might, light-clad +and without a weapon, left the Hall and walked briskly toward the nether +end of the Vale. He passed by all the tents, the last whereof +were of the House of the Steer, and came to a place where was a great +rock rising straight up from the plain like sheaves of black staves +standing close together; and it was called Staff-stone, and tales of +the elves had been told concerning it, so that Stone-face had beheld +it gladly the day before.</p> +<p>The moon was just shining into Shadowy Vale, and the grass was bright +wheresoever the shadows of the high cliffs were not, and the face of +Staff-stone shone bright grey as Folk-might came within sight of it, +and he beheld someone sitting at the base of the rock, and as he drew +nigher he saw that it was a woman, and knew her for the Bride; for he +had prayed her to abide him there that night, because it was nigh to +the tents of the House of the Steer; and his heart was glad as he drew +nigh to her.</p> +<p>She sat quietly on a fragment of the black rock, clad as she had +been all day, in her glittering kirtle, but without hauberk or helm, +a wreath of wind-flowers about her head, her feet crossed over each +other, her hands laid palm uppermost in her lap. She moved not +as he drew nigh, but said in a gentle voice when he was close to her:</p> +<p>‘Chief of the Wolf, great warrior, thou wouldest speak with +me; and good it is that friends should talk together on the eve of battle, +when they may never meet alive again.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘My talk shall not be long; for thou and I both must +sleep to-night, since there is work to hand to-morrow. Now since, +as thou sayest, O fairest of women, we may never meet again alive, I +ask thee now at this hour, when we both live and are near to one another, +to suffer me to speak to thee of my love of thee and desire for thee. +Surely thou, who art the sweetest of all things the Gods and the kindreds +have made, wilt not gainsay me this?’</p> +<p>She said very sweetly, yet smiling: ‘Brother of my father’s +sons, how can I gainsay thee thy speech? Nay, hast thou not said +it? What more canst thou add to it that will have fresh meaning +to mine ears?’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Thou sayest sooth: might I then but kiss thine hand?’</p> +<p>She said, no longer smiling: ‘Yea surely, even so may all men +do who can be called my friends - and thou art much my friend.’</p> +<p>He took her hand and kissed it, and held it thereafter; nor did she +draw it away. The moon shone brightly on them; but by its light +he could not see if she reddened, but he deemed that her face was troubled. +Then he said: ‘It were better for me if I might kiss thy face, +and take thee in mine arms.’</p> +<p>Then said she: ‘This only shall a man do with me when I long +to do the like with him. And since thou art so much my friend, +I will tell thee that as for this longing, I have it not. Bethink +thee what a little while it is since the lack of another man’s +love grieved me sorely.’</p> +<p>‘The time is short,’ said Folk-might, ‘if we tell +up the hours thereof; but in that short space have a many things betid.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Dost thou know, canst thou guess, how sorely ashamed +I went amongst my people? I durst look no man in the face for +the aching of mine heart, which methought all might see through my face.’</p> +<p>‘I knew it well,’ he said; ‘yet of me wert thou +not ashamed but a little while ago, when thou didst tell me of thy grief.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘True it is; and thou wert kind to me. Thou +didst become a dear friend to me, methought.’</p> +<p>‘And wilt thou hurt a dear friend?’ said he.</p> +<p>‘O no,’ she said, ‘if I might do otherwise. +Yet how if I might not choose? Shall there be no forgiveness for +me then?’</p> +<p>He answered nothing; and still he held her hand that strove not to +be gone from his, and she cast down her eyes. Then he spake in +a while:</p> +<p>‘My friend, I have been thinking of thee and of me; and now +hearken: if thou wilt declare that thou feelest no sweetness embracing +thine heart when I say that I desire thee sorely, as now I say it; or +when I kiss thine hand, as now I kiss it; or when I pray thee to suffer +me to cast mine arms about thee and kiss thy face, as now I pray it: +if thou wilt say this, then will I take thee by the hand straightway, +and lead thee to the tents of the House of the Steer, and say farewell +to thee till the battle is over. Canst thou say this out of the +truth of thine heart?’</p> +<p>She said: ‘What then if I cannot say this word? What +then?’</p> +<p>But he answered nothing; and she sat still a little while, and then +arose and stood before him, looking him in the eyes, and said:</p> +<p>‘I cannot say it.’</p> +<p>Then he caught her in his arms and strained her to him, and then +kissed her lips and her face again and again, and she strove not with +him. But at last she said:</p> +<p>‘Yet after all this shalt thou lead me back to my folk straight-way; +and when the battle is done, if both we are living, then shall we speak +more thereof.’</p> +<p>So he took her hand and led her on toward the tents of the Steer, +and for a while he spake nought; for he doubted himself, what he should +say; but at last he spake:</p> +<p>‘Now is this better for me than if it had not been, whether +I live or whether I die. Yet thou hast not said that thou lovest +me and desirest me.’</p> +<p>‘Wilt thou compel me?’ she said. ‘To-night +I may not say it. Who shall say what words my lips shall fashion +when we stand together victorious in Silver-dale; then indeed may the +time seem long from now.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Yea, true is that; yet once again I say that so measured +long and long is the time since first I saw thee in Burgdale before +thou knewest me. Yet now I will not bicker with thee, for be sure +that I am glad at heart. And lo you! our feet have brought us +to the tents of thy people. All good go with thee!’</p> +<p>‘And with thee, sweet friend,’ she said. Then she +lingered a little, turning her head toward the tents, and then turned +her face toward him and laid her hand on his neck, and drew his head +adown to her and kissed his cheek, and therewith swiftly and lightly +departed from him.</p> +<p>Now the night wore and the morning came; and Face-of-god was abroad +very early in the morning, as his custom was; and he washed the night +from off him in the Carles’ Bath of the Shivering Flood, and then +went round through the encampment of the host, and saw none stirring +save here and there the last watchmen of the night. He spake with +one or two of these, and then went up to the head of the Vale, where +was the pass that led to Silver-dale; and there he saw the watch, and +spake with them, and they told him that none had as yet come forth from +the pass, and he bade them to blow the horn of warning to rouse up the +Host as soon as the messengers came thence. For forerunners had +been sent up the pass, and had been set to hold watch at divers places +therein to pass on the word from place to place.</p> +<p>Thence went Face-of-god back toward the Hall; but when he was yet +some way from it, he saw a slender glittering warrior come forth from +the door thereof, who stood for a moment looking round about, and then +came lightly and swiftly toward him; and lo! it was the Sun-beam, with +a long hauberk over her kirtle falling below her knees, a helm on her +head and plated shoes on her feet. She came up to him, and laid +her hand to his cheek and the golden locks of his head (for he was bare-headed), +and said to him, smiling:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane! thou badest me bear arms, and Folk-might also constrained +me thereto. Lo thou!’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Folk-might is wise then, even as I am; and +forsooth as thou art. For bethink thee if the bow drawn at a venture +should speed the eyeless shaft against thy breast, and send me forth +a wanderer from my Folk! For how could I bear the sight of the +fair Dale, and no hope to see thee again therein?’</p> +<p>She said: ‘The heart is light within me to-day. Deemest +thou that this is strange? Or dost thou call to mind that which +thou spakest the other day, that it was of no avail to stand in the +Doom-ring of the Folk and bear witness against ourselves? This +will I not. This is no light-mindedness that thou beholdest in +me, but the valiancy that the Fathers have set in mine heart. +Deem not, O Gold-mane, fear not, that we shall die before they dight +the bride-bed for us.’</p> +<p>He would have kissed her mouth, but she put him away with her hand, +and doffed her helm and laid it on the grass, and said:</p> +<p>‘This is not the last time that thou shalt kiss me, Gold-mane, +my dear; and yet I long for it as if it were, so high as the Fathers +have raised me up this morn above fear and sadness.’</p> +<p>He said nought, but drew her to him, and wonder so moved him, that +he looked long and closely at her face before he kissed her; and forsooth +he could find no blemish in it: it was as if it were but new come from +the smithy of the Gods, and exceeding longing took hold of him. +But even as their lips met, from the head of the Vale came the voice +of the great horn; and it was answered straightway by the watchers all +down the tents; and presently arose the shouts of men and the clash +of weapons as folk armed themselves, and laughter therewith, for most +men were battle-merry, and the cries of women shrilly-clear as they +hastened about, busy over the morning meal before the departure of the +Host. But Face-of-god said softly, still caressing the Sun-beam, +and she him:</p> +<p>‘Thus then we depart from this Valley of the Shadows, but as +thou saidst when first we met therein, there shall be no sundering of +thee and me, but thou shalt go down with me to the battle.’</p> +<p>And he led her by the hand into the Hall of the Wolf, and there they +ate a morsel, and thereafter Face-of-god tarried not, but busied himself +along with Folk-might and the other chieftains in arraying the Host +for departure.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLI. THE HOST DEPARTETH FROM SHADOWY VALE: THE FIRST +DAY’S JOURNEY</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>It was about three hours before noon that the Host began to enter +into the pass out of Shadowy Vale by the river-side; and the women and +children, and men unfightworthy, stood on the higher ground at the foot +of the cliffs to see the Host wend on the way. Of these a many +were of the Woodlanders, who were now one folk with them of Shadowy +Vale. And all these had chosen to abide tidings in the Vale, deeming +that there was little danger therein, since that last slaughter which +Folk-might had made of the Dusky Men; albeit Face-of-god had offered +to send them all to Burgstead with two score and ten men-at-arms to +guard them by the way and to eke out the warders of the Burg.</p> +<p>Now the fighting-men of Shadowy Vale were two long hundreds lacking +five; of whom two score and ten were women, and three score and ten +lads under twenty winters; but the women, though you might scarce see +fairer of face and body, were doughty in arms, all good shooters in +the bow; and the swains were eager and light-foot, cragsmen of the best, +wont to scaling the cliffs of the Vale in search of the nests of gerfalcons +and such-like fowl, and swimming the strong streams of the Shivering +Flood; tough bodies and wiry, stronger than most grown men, and as fearless +as the best.</p> +<p>The order of the Departure of the Host was this:</p> +<p>The Woodlanders went first into the pass, and with them were two +score of the ripe Warriors of the Wolf. Then came of the kindreds +of Burgdale, the Men of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull; then the +Men of the Vine and the Sickle; then the Shepherd-folk; and lastly, +the Men of the Face led by Stone-face and Hall-face. With these +went another two score of the dwellers in Shadowy Vale, and the rest +were scattered up and down the bands of the Host to guide them into +the best paths and to make the way easier to them. Face-of-god +was sundered from his kindred, and went along with Folk-might in the +forefront of the Host, while his father the Alderman went as a simple +man-at-arms with his House in the rearward. The Sun-beam followed +her brother and Face-of-god amidst the Warriors of the Wolf, and with +her were Bow-may clad in the Alderman’s gift, and Wood-father +and his children. Bow-may had caused her to doff her hauberk for +that day, whereon they looked to fall in with no foeman. As for +the Bride, she went with her kindred in all her war-gear; and the morning +sun shone in the gems of her apparel, and her jewelled feet fell like +flowers upon the deep grass of the upper Vale, and shone strange and +bright amongst the black stones of the pass. She bore a quiver +at her back and a shining yew bow in her hand, and went amongst the +bowmen, for she was a very deft archer.</p> +<p>So fared they into the pass, leaving peace behind them, with all +their banners displayed, and the banner of the Red-mouthed Wolf went +with the Wolf and the Sun-burst in the forefront of their battle next +after the two captains.</p> +<p>As for their road, the grassy space between the rock-wall and the +water was wide and smooth at first, and the cliffs rose up like bundles +of spear-shafts high and clear from the green grass with no confused +litter of fallen stones; so that the men strode on briskly, their hearts +high-raised and full of hope. And as they went, the sweetness +of song stirred in their souls, and at last Bow-may fell to singing +in a loud clear voice, and her cousin Wood-wise answered her, and all +the warriors of the Wolf who were in their band fell into the song at +the ending, and the sound of their melody went down the water and reached +the ears of those that were entering the pass, and of those who were +abiding till the way should be clear of them: and this is some of what +they sang:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>Bow-may singeth:</i></p> +<p>Hear ye never a voice come crying<br /> Out from +the waste where the winds fare wide?<br />‘Sons of the Wolf, the +days are dying,<br /> And where in the clefts of the +rocks do ye hide?</p> +<p>‘Into your hands hath the Sword been given,<br /> Hard +are the palms with the kiss of the hilt;<br />Through the trackless +waste hath the road been riven<br /> For the blade +to seek to the heart of the guilt.</p> +<p>‘And yet ye bide and yet ye tarry;<br /> Dear +deem ye the sleep ’twixt hearth and board,<br />And sweet the +maiden mouths ye marry,<br /> And bright the blade +of the bloodless sword.’</p> +<p><i>Wood-wise singeth:</i></p> +<p>Yea, here we dwell in the arms of our Mother<br /> The +Shadowy Queen, and the hope of the Waste;<br />Here first we came, when +never another<br /> Adown the rocky stair made haste.</p> +<p>Far is the foe, and no sword beholdeth<br /> What +deed we work and whither we wend;<br />Dear are the days, and the Year +enfoldeth<br /> The love of our life from end to end.</p> +<p>Voice of our Fathers, why will ye move us,<br /> And +call up the sun our swords to behold?<br />Why will ye cry on the foeman +to prove us?<br /> Why will ye stir up the heart of +the bold?</p> +<p><i>Bow-may singeth:</i></p> +<p>Purblind am I, the voice of the chiding;<br /> Then +tell me what is the thing ye bear?<br />What is the gift that your hands +are hiding,<br /> The gold-adorned, the dread and dear?</p> +<p><i>Wood-wise singeth:</i></p> +<p>Dark in the sheath lies the Anvil’s Brother,<br /> Hid +is the hammered Death of Men.<br />Would ye look on the gift of the +green-clad Mother?<br /> How then shall ye ask for +a gift again?</p> +<p><i>The Warriors sing:</i></p> +<p>Show we the Sunlight the Gift of the Mother,<br /> As +foot follows foot to the foeman’s den!<br />Gleam Sun, breathe +Wind, on the Anvil’s Brother,<br /> For bare +is the hammered Death of Men.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Therewith they shook their naked swords in the air, and fared on +eagerly, and as swiftly as the pass would have them fare. But +so it was, that when the rearward of the Host was entering the first +of the pass, and was going on the wide smooth sward, the vanward was +gotten to where there was but a narrow space clear betwixt water and +cliff; for otherwhere was a litter of great rocks and small, hard to +be threaded even by those who knew the passes well; so that men had +to tread along the very verge of the Shivering Flood, and wary must +they be, for the water ran swift and deep betwixt banks of sheer rock +half a fathom below their very foot-soles, which had but bare space +to go on the narrow a way. So it held on for a while, and then +got safer, and there was more space for going betwixt cliff and flood; +albeit it was toilsome enough, since for some way yet there was a drift +of stones to cumber their feet, some big and some little, and some very +big. After a while the way grew better, though here and there, +where the cliffs lowered, were wide screes of loose stones that they +must needs climb up and down. Thereafter for a space was there +an end of the stony cumber, but the way betwixt the river and the cliffs +narrowed again, and the black crags grew higher, and at last so exceeding +high, and the way so narrow, that the sky overhead was to them as though +they were at the bottom of a well, and men deemed that thence they could +see the stars at noontide. For some time withal had the way been +mounting up and up, though the cliffs grew higher over it; till at last +they were but going on a narrow shelf, the Shivering Flood swirling +and rattling far below them betwixt sheer rock-walls grown exceeding +high; and above them the cliffs going up towards the heavens as black +as a moonless starless night of winter. And as the flood thundered +below, so above them roared the ceaseless thunder of the wind of the +pass, that blew exceeding fierce down that strait place; so that the +skirts of their garments were wrapped about their knees by it, and their +feet were well-nigh stayed at whiles as they breasted the push thereof.</p> +<p>But as they mounted higher and higher yet, the noise of the waters +swelled into a huge roar that drowned the bellowing of the prisoned +wind, and down the pass came drifting a fine rain that fell not from +the sky, for between the clouds of that drift could folk see the heavens +bright and blue above them. This rain was but the spray of the +great force up to whose steps they were climbing.</p> +<p>Now the way got rougher as they mounted; but this toil was caused +by their gain; for the rock-wall, which thrust out a buttress there +as if it would have gone to the very edge of the gap where-through the +flood ran, and so have cut the way off utterly, was here somewhat broken +down, and its stones scattered down the steep bent, so that there was +a passage, though a toilsome one.</p> +<p>Thus then through the wind-borne drift of the great force, through +which men could see the white waters tossing down below, amidst the +clattering thunder of the Shivering Flood and the rumble of the wind +of the gap, that tore through their garments and hair as if it would +rend all to rags and bear it away, the banners of the Wolf won their +way to the crest of the midmost height of the pass, and the long line +of the Host came clambering after them; and each band of warriors as +it reached the top cast an unheard shout from amidst the tangled fury +of wind and waters.</p> +<p>A little further on and all that turmoil was behind them; the sun, +now grown low, smote the wavering column of spray from the force at +their backs, till the rainbows lay bright across it; and the sunshine +lay wide over a little valley that sloped somewhat steeply to the west +right up from the edge of the river; and beyond these western slopes +could men see a low peak spreading down on all sides to the plain, till +it was like to a bossed shield, and the name of it was Shield-broad. +Dark grey was the valley everywhere, save that by the side of the water +was a space of bright green-sward hedged about toward the mountain by +a wall of rocks tossed up into wild shapes of spires and jagged points. +The river itself was spread out wide and shallow, and went rattling +about great grey rocks scattered here and there amidst it, till it gathered +itself together to tumble headlong over three slant steps into the mighty +gap below.</p> +<p>From the height in the pass those grey slopes seemed easy to traverse; +but the warriors of the Wolf knew that it was far otherwise, for they +were but the molten rock-sea that in time long past had flowed forth +from Shield-broad and filled up the whole valley endlong and overthwart, +cooling as it flowed, and the tumbled hedge of rock round about the +green plain by the river was where the said rock-sea had been stayed +by meeting with soft ground, and had heaped itself up round about the +green-sward. And that great rock-flood as it cooled split in divers +fashions; and the rain and weather had been busy on it for ages, so +that it was worn into a maze of narrow paths, most of which, after a +little, brought the wayfarer to a dead stop, or else led him back again +to the place whence he had started; so that only those who knew the +passes throughly could thread that maze without immeasurable labour.</p> +<p>Now when the men of the Host looked from the high place whereon they +stood toward the green plain by the river, they saw on the top of that +rock-wall a red pennon waving on a spear, and beside it three or four +weaponed men gleaming bright in the evening sun; and they waved their +swords to the Host, and made lightning of the sunbeams, and the men +of the Host waved swords to them in turn. For these were the outguards +of the Host; and the place whereon they were was at whiles dwelt in +by those who would drive the spoil in Silver-dale, and midmost of the +green-sward was a booth builded of rough stones and turf, a refuge for +a score of men in rough weather.</p> +<p>So the men of the vanward gat them down the hill, and made the best +of their way toward the grassy plain through that rocky maze which had +once been as a lake of molten glass; and as short as the way looked +from above, it was two hours or ever they came out of it on to the smooth +turf, and it was moonlight and night ere the House of the Face had gotten +on to the green-sward.</p> +<p>There then the Host abode for that night, and after they had eaten +lay down on the green grass and slept as they might. Bow-may would +have brought the Sun-beam into the booth with some others of the women, +but she would not enter it, because she deemed that otherwise the Bride +would abide without; and the Bride, when she came up, along with the +House of the Steer, beheld the Sun-beam, that Wood-father’s children +had made a lair for her without like a hare’s form; and forsooth +many a time had she lain under the naked heaven in Shadowy Vale and +the waste about it, even as the Bride had in the meadows of Burgdale. +So when the Bride was bidden thereto, she went meekly into the booth, +and lay there with others of the damsels-at-arms.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLII. THE HOST COMETH TO THE EDGES OF SILVER-DALE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>So wore the night, and when the dawn was come were the two captains +afoot, and they went from band to band to see that all was ready, and +all men were astir betimes, and by the time that the sun smote the eastern +side of Shield-broad ruddy, they had broken their fast and were dight +for departure. Then the horns blew up beside the banners, and +rejoiced the hearts of men. But by the command of the captains +this was the last time that they should sound till they blew for onset +in Silver-dale, because now would they be drawing nigher and nigher +to the foemen, and they wotted not but that wandering bands of them +might be hard on the lips of the pass, and might hear the horns’ +voice, and turn to see what was toward.</p> +<p>Forth then went the banners of the Wolf, and the men of the vanward +fell to threading the rock-maze toward the north, and in two hours’ +time were clear of the Dale under Shield-broad. All went in the +same order as yesterday; but on this day the Sun-beam would bear her +hauberk, and had a sword girt to her side, and her heart was high and +her speech merry.</p> +<p>When they left the Dale under Shield-broad the way was easy and wide +for a good way, the river flowing betwixt low banks, and the pass being +more like a string of little valleys than a mere gap, as it had been +on the other side of the Dale. But when one third of the day was +past, the way began to narrow on them again, and to rise up little by +little; and at last the rock-walls drew close to the river, and when +men looked toward the north they saw no way, and nought but a wall. +For the gap of the Shivering Flood turned now to the east, and the Flood +came down from the east in many falls, as it were over a fearful stair, +through a gap where there was no path between the cliffs and the water, +nought but the boiling flood and its turmoil; so that they who knew +not the road wondered what they should do.</p> +<p>But Folk-might led the banners to where a great buttress of the cliffs +thrust itself into the way, coming well-nigh down to the water, just +at the corner where the river turned eastward, and they got them about +it as they might, and on the other side thereof lo! another gap exceeding +strait, scarce twenty foot over, wall-sided, rugged beyond measure, +going up steeply from the great valley: a little water ran through it, +mostly filling up the floor of it from side to side; but it was but +shallow. This was now the battle-road of the Host, and the vanward +entered it at once, turning their backs upon the Shivering Flood.</p> +<p>Full toilsome and dreary was that strait way; often great stones +hung above their heads, bridging the gap and hiding the sky from them; +nor was there any path for them save the stream itself; so that whiles +were they wading its waters to the knee or higher, and whiles were they +striding from stone to stone amidst the rattle of the waters, and whiles +were they stepping warily along the ledges of rock above the deeper +pools, and in all wise labouring in overcoming the rugged road amidst +the twilight of the gap.</p> +<p>Thus they toiled till the afternoon was well worn, and so at last +they came to where the rock-wall was somewhat broken down on the north +side, and great rocks had fallen across the gap, and dammed up the waters, +which fell scantily over the dam from stone to stone into a pool at +the bottom of it. Up this breach, then, below the force they scrambled +and struggled, for rough indeed was the road for them; and so came they +up out of the gap on to the open hill-side, a great shoulder of the +heath sloping down from the north, and littered over with big stones, +borne thither belike by some ice-river of the earlier days; and one +great rock was in special as great as the hall of a wealthy goodman, +and shapen like to a hall with hipped gables, which same the men of +the Wolf called House-stone.</p> +<p>There then the noise and clatter of the vanward rose up on the face +of the heath, and men were exceeding joyous that they had come so far +without mishap. Therewith came weaponed men out from under House-stone, +and they came toward the men of the vanward, and they were a half-score +of the forerunners of the Wolf; therefore Folk-might and Face-of-god +fell at once into speech with them, and had their tidings; and when +they had heard them, they saw nought to hinder the host from going on +their road to Silver-dale forthright; and there were still three hours +of daylight before them. So the vanward of the host tarried not, +and the captains left word with the men from under House-stone that +the rest of the Host should fare on after them speedily, and that they +should give this word to each company, as men came up from out the gap. +Then they fared speedily up the hillside, and in an hour’s wearing +had come to the crest thereof, and to where the ground fell steadily +toward the north, and hereabout the scattered stones ceased, and on +the other side of the crest the heath began to be soft and boggy, and +at last so soft, that if they had not been wisely led, they had been +bemired oftentimes. At last they came to where the flows that +trickled through the mires drew together into a stream, so that men +could see it running; and thereon some of the Woodlanders cried out +joyously that the waters were running north; and then all knew that +they were drawing nigh to Silver-dale.</p> +<p>No man they met on the road, nor did they of Shadowy Vale look to +meet any; because the Dusky Men were not great hunters for the more +part, except it were of men, and especially of women; and, moreover, +these hill-slopes of the mountain-necks led no-whither and were utterly +waste and dreary, and there was nought to be seen there but snipes and +bitterns and whimbrel and plover, and here and there a hill-fox, or +the great erne hanging over the heath on his way to the mountain.</p> +<p>When sunset came, they were getting clear of the miry ground, and +the stream which they had come across amidst of the mires had got clearer +and greater, and rattled down between wide stony sides over the heath; +and here and there it deepened as it cleft its way through little knolls +that rose out of the face of the mountain-neck. As the Host climbed +one of these and was come to its topmost (it was low enough not to turn +the stream), Face-of-god looked and beheld dark-blue mountains rising +up far off before him, and higher than these, but away to the east, +the snowy peaks of the World-mountains. Then he called to mind +what he had seen from the Burg of the Runaways, and he took Folk-might +by the arm, and pointed toward those far-off mountains.</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Folk-might, ‘so it is, War-leader. +Silver-dale lieth between us and yonder blue ridges, and it is far nigher +to us than to them.’</p> +<p>But the Sun-beam came close to those twain, and took Face-of-god +by the hand and said: ‘O Gold-mane, dost thou see?’ and +he turned about and beheld her, and saw how her cheeks flamed and her +eyes glittered, and he said in a low voice: ‘To-morrow for mirth +or silence, for life or death.’</p> +<p>But the whole vanward as they came up stayed to behold the sight +of the mountains on the other side of Silver-dale, and the banners of +the Folk hung over their heads, moving but little in the soft air of +the evening: so went they on their ways.</p> +<p>The sun sank, and dusk came on them as they followed down the stream, +and night came, and was clear and starlit, though the moon was not yet +risen. Now was the ground firm and the grass sweet and flowery, +and wind-worn bushes were scattered round about them, as they began +to go down into the ghyll that cleft the wall of Silver-dale, and the +night-wind blew in their faces from the very Dale and place of the Battle +to be. The path down was steep at first, but the ghyll was wide, +and the sides of it no longer straight walls, as in the gaps of their +earlier journey, but broken, sloping back, and (as they might see on +the morrow) partly of big stones and shaly grit, partly grown over with +bushes and rough grass, with here and there a little stream trickling +down their sides. As they went, the ghyll widened out, till at +last they were in a valley going down to the plain, in places steep, +in places flat and smooth, the stream ever rattling down the midst of +it, and they on the west side thereof. The vale was well grassed, +and oak-trees and ash and holly and hazel grew here and there about +it; and at last the Host had before it a wood which filled the vale +from side to side, not much tangled with undergrowth, and quite clear +of it nigh to the stream-side. Thereinto the vanward entered, +but went no long way ere the leaders called a halt and bade pitch the +banners, for that there should they abide the daylight. Thus it +had been determined at the Council of the Hall of the Wolf; for Folk-might +had said: ‘With an Host as great as ours, and mostly of men come +into a land of which they know nought at all, an onslaught by night +is perilous: yea, and our foes should be over-much scattered, and we +should have to wander about seeking them. Let us rather abide +in the wood of Wood-dale till the morning, and then display our banners +on the hill-side above Silver-dale, so that they may gather together +to fall upon us: in no case shall they keep us out of the Dale.’</p> +<p>There then they stayed, and as each company came up to the wood, +they were marshalled into their due places, so that they might set the +battle in array on the edge of Silver-dale,</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLIII. FACE-OF-GOD LOOKETH ON SILVER-DALE: THE BOWMEN’S +BATTLE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>There then they rested, as folk wearied with the toilsome journey, +when they had set sure watches round about their campment; and they +ate quietly what meat they had with them, and so gat them to sleep in +the wood on the eve of battle.</p> +<p>But not all slept; for the two captains went about amongst the companies, +Folk-might to the east, Face-of-god to the west, to look to the watches, +and to see that all was ordered duly. Also the Sun-beam slept +not, but she lay beside Bow-may at the foot of an oak-tree; she watched +Face-of-god as he went away amidst the men of the Host, and watched +and waked abiding his returning footsteps.</p> +<p>The night was well worn by then he came back to his place in the +vanward, and on his way back he passed through the folk of the Steer +laid along on the grass, all save those of the watch, and the light +of the moon high aloft was mingled with the light of the earliest dawn; +and as it happed he looked down, and lo! close to his feet the face +of the Bride as she lay beside her grand-sire, her head pillowed on +a bundle of bracken. She was sleeping soundly like a child who +has been playing all day, and whose sleep has come to him unsought and +happily. Her hands were laid together by her side; her cheek was +as fair and clear as it was wont to be at her best; her face looked +calm and happy, and a lock of her dark-red hair strayed from her uncovered +head over her breast and lay across her wrists, so peacefully she slept.</p> +<p>Face-of-god turned his eyes from her at once, and went by swiftly, +and came to his own company. The Sun-beam saw him coming, and +rose straightway to her feet from beside Bow-may, who lay fast asleep, +and she held out her hands to him; and he took them and kissed them, +and he cast his arms about her and kissed her mouth and her face, and +she his in likewise; and she said:</p> +<p>‘O Gold-mane, if this were but the morrow of to-morrow! +Yet shall all be well; shall it not?’</p> +<p>Her voice was low, but it waked Bow-may, who sat up at once broad +awake, after the manner of a hunter of the waste ever ready for the +next thing to betide, and moreover the Sun-beam had been in her thoughts +these two days, and she feared for her, lest she should be slain or +maimed. Now she smiled on the Sun-beam and said:</p> +<p>‘What is it? Does thy mind forebode evil? That +needeth not. I tell thee it is not so ill for us of the sword +to be in Silver-dale. Thrice have I been there since the Overthrow, +and never more than a half-score in company, and yet am I whole to-day.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, sister,’ said Face-of-god, ‘but in past times +ye did your deed and then fled away; but now we come to abide here, +and this night is the last of lurking.’</p> +<p>‘Ah,’ she said, ‘a little way from this I saw such +things that we had good will to abide here longer, few as we were, but +that we feared to be taken alive.’</p> +<p>‘What things were these?’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said, ‘I will not tell thee now; but +mayhap in the lighted winter feast-hall, when the kindred are so nigh +us and about us that they seem to us as if they were all the world, +I may tell it thee; or mayhap I never shall.’</p> +<p>Said the Sun-beam, smiling: ‘Thou wilt ever be talking, Bow-may. +Now let the War-leader depart, for he will have much to do.’</p> +<p>And she was well at ease that she had seen Face-of-god again; but +he said:</p> +<p>‘Nay, not so much; all is well-nigh done; in an hour it will +be broad day, and two hours thereafter shall the Banner be displayed +on the edge of Silver-dale.’</p> +<p>The cheek of the Sun-beam flushed, and paled again, as she said: +‘Yea, we shall stand even as our Fathers stood on the day when, +coming from off the waste, they beheld it, and knew it would be theirs. +Ah me! how have I longed for this morn. But now - Tell me, Gold-mane, +dost thou deem that I am afraid? And I whom thou hast deemed to +be a God.’</p> +<p>Quoth Bow-may: ‘Thou shalt deem her twice a God ere noon-tide, +brother Gold-mane. But come now! the hour of deadly battle is +at hand, and we may not laugh that away; and therefore I bid thee remember, +Gold-mane, how thou didst promise to kiss me once more on the verge +of deadly battle.’</p> +<p>Therewith she stood up before him, and he tarried not, but kind and +smiling took her face between his two hands and kissed her lips, and +she cast her arms about him and kissed him, and then sank down on the +grass again, and turned from him, and laid her face amongst the grass +and the bracken, and they could see that she was weeping, and her body +was shaken with sobs. But the Sun-beam knelt down to her, and +caressed her with her hand, and spake kind words to her softly, while +Face-of-god went his ways to meet Folk-might.</p> +<p>Now was the dawn fading into full daylight; and between dawn and +sunrise were all men stirring; for the watch had waked the hundred-leaders, +and they the leaders of scores and half-scores, and they the whole folk; +and they sat quietly in the wood and made no noise.</p> +<p>In the night the watch of the Sickle had fallen in with a thrall +who had stolen up from the Dale to set gins for hares, and now in the +early morning they brought him to the War-leader. He was even +such a man as those with whom Face-of-god had fallen in before, neither +better nor worse than most of them: he was sore afraid at first, but +by then he was come to the captains he understood that he had happened +upon friends; but he was dull of comprehension and slow of speech. +Albeit Folk-might gathered from him that the Dusky Men had some inkling +of the onslaught; for he said that they had been gathering together +in the marketplace of Silver-stead, and would do so again soon. +Moreover, the captains deemed from his speech that those new tribes +had come to hand sooner than was looked for, and were even now in the +Dale. Folk-might smiled as one who is not best pleased when he +heard these tidings; but Face-of-god was glad to hear thereof; for what +he loathed most was that the war should drag out in hunting of scattered +bands of the foe. Herewith came Dallach to them as they talked +(for Face-of-god had sent for him), and he fell to questioning the man +further; by whose answers it seemed that many men also had come into +the Dale from Rose-dale, so that they of the kindreds were like to have +their hands full. Lastly Dallach drew from the thrall that it +was on that very morning that the great Folk-mote of the Dusky Men should +be holden in the market-place of the Stead, which was right great, and +about it were the biggest of the houses wherein the men of the kindred +had once dwelt.</p> +<p>So when they had made an end of questioning the thrall, and had given +him meat and drink, they asked him if he would take weapons in his hand +and lead them on the ways into the Dale, bidding him look about the +wood and note how great and mighty an host they were. And the +carle yeasaid this, after staring about him a while, and they gave him +spear and shield, and he went with the vanward as a way-leader.</p> +<p>Again presently came a watch of the Shepherds, and they had found +a man and a woman dead and stark naked hanging to the boughs of a great +oak-tree deep in the wood. This men knew for some vengeance of +the Dusky Men, for it was clear to see that these poor people had been +sorely tormented before they were slain. Also the same watch had +stumbled on the dead body of an old woman, clad in rags, lying amongst +the rank grass about a little flow; she was exceeding lean and hunger-starved, +and in her hand was a frog which she had half eaten. And Dallach, +when he heard of this, said that it was the wont of the Dusky Men to +slay their thralls when they were past work, or to drive them into the +wilderness to die.</p> +<p>Lastly came a watch from the men of the Face, having with them two +more thralls, lusty young men; these they had come upon in company of +their master, who had brought them up into the wood to shoot him a buck, +and therefore they bare bows and arrows. The watch had slain the +master straightway while the thralls stood looking on. They were +much afraid of the weaponed men, but answered to the questioning much +readier than the first man; for they were household thralls, and better +fed and clad than he, who was but a toiler in the fields. They +yeasaid all his tale, and said moreover that the Folk-mote of the Dusky +Men should be holden in the market-place that forenoon, and that most +of the warriors should be there, both the new-comers and the Rose-dale +lords, and that without doubt they should be under arms.</p> +<p>To these men also they gave a good sword and a helm each, and bade +them be brisk with their bows, and they said yea to marching with the +Host; and indeed they feared nothing so much as being left behind; for +if they fell into the hands of the Dusky Men, and their master missing, +they should first be questioned with torments, and then slain in the +evillest manner.</p> +<p>Now whereas things had thus betid, and that they knew thus much of +their foemen, Face-of-god called all the chieftains together, and they +sat on the green grass and held counsel amongst them, and to one and +all it seemed good that they should suffer the Dusky Men to gather together +before they meddled with them, and then fall upon them in such order +and such time as should seem good to the captains watching how things +went; and this would be easy, whereas they were all lying in the wood +in the same order as they would stand in battle-array if they were all +drawn up together on the brow of the hill. Albeit Face-of-god +deemed it good, after he had heard all that they who had been in the +Stead could tell him thereof, that the Shepherd-Folk, who were more +than three long hundreds, and they of the Steer, the Bridge, and the +Bull, four hundreds in all, should take their places eastward of the +Woodlanders who had led the vanward.</p> +<p>Straightway the word was borne to these men, and the shift was made: +so that presently the Woodlanders were amidmost of the Host, and had +with them on their right hands the Men of the Steer, the Bridge, and +the Bull, and beyond them the Shepherd-Folk. But on their left +hand lay the Men of the Vine, then they of the Sickle, and lastly the +Men of the Face, and these three kindreds were over five hundreds of +warriors: as for the Men of the Wolf, they abode at first with those +companies which they had led through the wastes, though this was changed +afterwards.</p> +<p>All this being done, Face-of-god gave out that all men should break +their fast in peace and leisure; and while men were at their meat, Folk-might +spake to Face-of-god and said: ‘Come, brother, for I would show +thee a goodly thing; and thou, Dallach, come with us.’</p> +<p>Then he brought them by paths in the wood till Face-of-god saw the +sky shine white between the tree-boles, and in a little while they were +come well-nigh out of the thicket, and then they went warily; for before +them was nought but the slopes of Wood-dale, going down steeply into +Silver-dale, with nought to hinder the sight of it, save here and there +bushes or scattered trees; and so fair and lovely it was that Face-of-god +could scarce forbear to cry out. He saw that it was only at the +upper or eastern end, where the mountains of the Waste went round about +it, that the Dale was narrow; it soon widened out toward the west, and +for the most part was encompassed by no such straight-sided a wall as +was Burgdale, but by sloping hills and bents, mostly indeed somewhat +higher and steeper than the pass wherein they were, but such as men +could well climb if they had a mind to, and there were any end to their +journey. The Dale went due west a good way, and then winded about +to the southwest, and so was hidden from them thereaway by the bents +that lay on their left hand. As it was wider, so it was not so +plain a ground as was Burgdale, but rose in knolls and little hills +here and there. A river greater than the Weltering Water wound +about amongst the said mounds; and along the side of it out in the open +dale were many goodly houses and homesteads of stone. The knolls +were mostly covered over with vines, and there were goodly and great +trees in groves and clumps, chiefly oak and sweet chestnut and linden; +many were the orchards, now in blossom, about the homesteads; the pastures +of the neat and horses spread out bright green up from the water-side, +and deeper green showed the acres of the wheat on the lower slopes of +the knolls, and in wide fields away from the river.</p> +<p>Just below the pitch of the hill whereon they were, lay Silver-stead, +the town of the Dale. Hitherto it had been an unfenced place; +but Folk-might pointed to where on the western side a new white wall +was rising, and on which, young as the day yet was, men were busy laying +the stones and spreading the mortar. Fair seemed that town to +Face-of-god: the houses were all builded of stone, and some of the biggest +were roofed with lead, which also as well as silver was dug out of the +mountains at the eastern end of the Dale. The market-place was +clear to see from where they stood, though there were houses on all +sides of it, so wide it was. From their standing-place it was +but three furlongs to this heart of Silver-dale; and Face-of-god could +see brightly-clad men moving about in it already. High above their +heads he beheld two great clots of scarlet and yellow raised on poles +and pitched in front of a great stone-built hall roofed with lead, which +stood amidmost of the west end of the Place, and betwixt those poles +he saw on a mound with long slopes at its sides somewhat of white stone, +and amidmost of the whole Place a great stack of faggot-wood built up +four-square. Those red and yellow things on the poles he deemed +would be the banners of the murder-carles; and Folk-might told him that +even so it was, and that they were but big bunches of strips of woollen +cloth, much like to great ragmops, save that the rags were larger and +longer: no other token of war, said Folk-might, did those folk carry, +save a crookbladed sword, smeared with man’s blood, and bigger +than any man might wield in battle.</p> +<p>‘Art thou far-seeing, War-leader?’ quoth he. ‘What +canst thou see in the market-place?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Far-seeing am I above most men, and I see +in the Place a man in scarlet standing by the banner, which is pitched +in front of the great stone hall, near to the mound with the white stone +on it; and meseemeth he beareth a great horn in his hand.’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘Yea, and that stone hall was our Mote-house +when we were lords of the Dale, and thence it was that they who are +now thralls of the Dusky Men sent to them their message and token of +yielding. And as for that white stone, it is the altar of their +god; for they have but one, and he is that same crook-bladed sword. +And now that I look, I see a great stack of wood amidmost the market-place, +and well I know what that betokeneth.’</p> +<p>‘Lo you!’ said Face-of-god, ‘the man with the horn +is gone up on to the altar-mound, and meseemeth he is setting the little +end of the horn to his mouth.’</p> +<p>‘Hearken then!’ said Folk-might. And in a moment +came the hoarse tuneless sound of the horn down the wind towards them; +and Folk-might said:</p> +<p>‘I deem I should know what that blast meaneth; and now is it +time that the Host drew nigher to set them in array behind these very +trees. But if ye will, War-leader, we will abide here and watch +the ways of the foemen, and send Dallach with the word to the Host; +also I would have thee suffer me to bid hither at once two score and +ten of the best of the bowmen of our folk and the Woodlanders, and Wood-wise +to lead them, for he knoweth well the land hereabout, and what is good +to do.’</p> +<p>‘It is good,’ said Face-of-god. ‘Be speedy, +Dallach!’</p> +<p>So Dallach departed, running lightly, and the two chiefs abode there; +and the horn in Silver-stead blew at whiles for a little, and then stayed; +and Folk-might said:</p> +<p>‘Lo you! they come flockmeal to the Mote-stead; the Place will +be filled ere long.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Will they make offerings to their god at +the hallowing in of their Folk-mote? Where then are the slaughter-beasts?’</p> +<p>‘They shall not long be lacking,’ said Folk-might. +‘See you it is getting thronged about the altar and the Mote-house.’</p> +<p>Now there were four ways into the Market-place of Silver-stead turned +toward the four aírts, and the midmost of the kindreds’ +battle looked right down the southern one, which went up to the wood, +but stopped there in a mere woodland path, and the more part of the +town lay north and west of this way, albeit there was a way from the +east also. But the hill-side just below the two captains lay two +furlongs west of this southern way; and it went down softly till it +was gotten quite near to the backs of the houses on the south side of +the Market-place, and was sprinkled scantly with bushes and trees as +aforesaid; but at last were there more bushes, which well-nigh made +a hedge across it, reaching from the side of the southern way; and a +foot or two beyond these bushes the ground fell by a steep and broken +bent down to the level of the Market-place, and betwixt that fringe +of bushes and the backs of the houses on the south side of the Place +was less it maybe than a full furlong: but the southern road aforesaid +went down softly into the Market-place, since it had been fashioned +so by men.</p> +<p>Now the two chiefs heard a loud blast of horns come up from the town, +and lo! a great crowd of men wending their ways down the road from the +north, and they came into the market-place with spears and other weapons +tossing in the air, and amidst of these men, who seemed to be all of +the warriors, they saw as they drew nigher some two score and ten of +men clad in long raiment of yellow and scarlet, with tall spiring hats +of strange fashion on their heads, and in their hands long staves with +great blades like scythes done on to them; and again, in the midst of +these yellow and red glaive-bearers, in the very heart of the throng +were some score of naked folk, they deemed both men and women, but were +not sure, so close was the throng; nor could they see if they were utterly +naked.</p> +<p>‘Lo you, brother!’ quoth Folk-might, ‘said I not +that the beasts for the hewing should not tarry? Yonder naked +folk are even they: and ye may well deem that they are the thralls of +the Dusky Men; and meseemeth by the whiteness of their skins they be +of the best of them. For these felons, it is like, look to winning +great plenty of thralls in Burgdale, and so set the less store on them +they have, and may expend them freely.’</p> +<p>As he spake they heard the sound of men marching in the wood behind +them, and they turned about and saw that there was come Wood-wise, and +with him upwards of two score and ten of the bowmen of the Woodlanders +and the Wolf - huntsmen, cragsmen, and scourers of the Waste; men who +could shoot the chaffinch on the twig a hundred yards aloof; who could +make a hiding-place of the bennets of the wayside grass, or the stem +of the slender birch-tree. With these must needs be Bow-may, who +was the closest shooter of all the kindreds.</p> +<p>So then Wood-wise told the War-leader that Dallach had given the +word to the Host, and that all men were astir and would be there presently +in their ordered companies; and Face-of-god spake to Folk-might, and +said: ‘Chief of the Wolf, wilt thou not give command to these +bowmen, and set them to the work; for thou wottest thereof.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, that will I,’ said Folk-might, and turned to Wood-wise, +and said: ‘Wood-wise, get ye down the slope, and loose on these +felons, who have a murder on hand, if so be ye have a chance to do it +wisely. But in any case come ye all back; for all shall be needed +yet to-day. So flee if they pursue, for ye shall have us to flee +to. Now be ye wary, nor let the curse of the Wolf and the Face +lie on your slothfulness.’</p> +<p>Wood-wise did but nod his head and lift his hand to his fellows, +who set off after him down the slope without more tarrying. They +went very warily, as if they were hunting a quarry which would flee +from them; and they crept amongst the grass and stones from bush to +bush like serpents, and so, unseen by the Dusky Men, who indeed were +busied over their own matters, they came to the fringe of bushes above +the broken ground aforesaid, and there they took their stand, and before +them below those steep banks was but the space at the back of the houses. +As to the houses, as aforesaid, they were not so high as elsewhere about +the Market-place; and at the end of a long low hall there was a gap +between its gable and the next house, whereby they had a clear sight +of the Place about the god’s altar and the banners, and the great +hall of Silver-dale, with the double stair that went up to the door +thereof.</p> +<p>There then they made them ready, and Wood-wise set men to watch that +none should come sidelong on them unawares; their bows were bent and +their quivers open, and they were eager for the fray.</p> +<p>Thus they beheld the Market-place from their cover, and saw that +those folk who were to be hewn to the god were now standing facing the +altar in a half-ring, and behind them in another half-ring the glaive-bearers +who had brought them thither stood glaive in hand ready to hew them +down when the token should be given; and these were indeed the priests +of the god.</p> +<p>There was clear space round about these poor slaughter-thralls, so +that the bowmen could see them well, and they told up a score of them, +half men, half women, and they were all stark naked save for wreaths +of flowers about their middles and their necks; and they had shackles +of lead about their wrists; which same lead should be taken out of the +fire wherein they should be burned, and from the shape it should take +after it had passed through the fire would the priests foretell the +luck of the deed to be done.</p> +<p>It was clear to be seen from thence that Folk-might was right when +he said that these slaughter-thralls were of the best of the house-thralls +and bed-mates of the Dusky Men, and that these felons were open-handed +to their god, and would not cheat him, or withhold from him the best +and most delicate of all they had.</p> +<p>Now spake Wood-wise to those about him: ‘It is sure that Folk-might +would have us give these poor thralls a chance, and that we must loose +upon the felons who would hew them down; and if we are to come back +again, we can go no nigher. What sayest thou, Bow-may? Is +it nigh enough? Can aught be done?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, yea,’ she said, ‘nigh enough it is; but let +Gold-ring be with me and half a score of the very best, whether they +be of our folk or the Woodlanders, men who cannot miss such a mark; +and when we have loosed, then let all loose, and stay not till our shot +be spent. Haste, now haste! time presseth; for if the Host showeth +on the brow of the hill, these felons will hew down their slaughter-beasts +before they turn on their foemen. Let the grey-goose wing speed +trouble and confusion amongst them.’</p> +<p>But ere she had done her words Wood-wise had got to speaking quietly +with the Woodlanders; and Bears-bane, who was amidst them, chose out +eight of the best of his folk, men who doubted nothing of hitting whatever +they could see in the Market-place; and they took their stand for shooting, +and with them besides Bow-may were two women and four men of the Wolf, +and Gold-ring withal, a carle of fifty winters, long, lean, and wiry, +a fell shooter if ever anyone were.</p> +<p>So all these notched their shafts and laid them on the yew, and each +had between the two last fingers of the shaft-hand another shaft ready, +and a half score more stuck into the ground before him.</p> +<p>Now giveth Wood-wise the word to these sixteen as to which of the +felons with the glaives they shall each one aim at; and he saith withal +in a soft voice: ‘Help cometh from the Hill; soon shall battle +be joined in Silver-dale.’</p> +<p>Thus stand they watching Bow-may and Gold-ring till they draw home +the notches; and amidst their waiting the glaive-bearing felons fall +a-singing a harsh and ugly hymn to their crooked-sword god, and the +Market-stead is thronged endlong and overthwart with the tribes of the +Dusky Men.</p> +<p>There now standeth Bow-may far-sighted and keen-eyed, her face as +pale as a linen sleeve, an awful smile on her glittering eyes and close-set +lips, and she feeling the twisted string of the red yew and the polished +sides of the notch, while the yelling song of the Dusky priests quavers +now and ends with a wild shrill cry, and she noteth the midmost of the +priests beginning to handle his weapon: then swift and steady she draweth +home the notches, while the yew bow standeth still as the oak-bole ere +the summer storm ariseth, and the twang of the sixteen strings maketh +but one fell sound as the feathered bane of men goeth on its way.</p> +<p>There was silence for a moment of time in the Market of Silver-stead, +as if the bolt of the Gods had fallen there; and then arose a huge wordless +yell from those about the altar, and one of the priests who was left +hove up his glaive two-handed to smite the naked slaughter-thralls; +but or ever the stroke fell, Bow-may’s second shaft was through +his throat, and he rolled over amidst his dead fellows; and the other +fifteen had loosed with her, and then even as they could Wood-wise and +the others of their company; and all they notched and loosed without +tarrying, and no shout, no word came from their lips, only the twanging +strings spake for them; for they deemed the minutes that hurried by +were worth much joy of their lives to be. And few indeed were +the passing minutes ere the dead men lay in heaps about the Altar of +the Crooked Sword, and the wounded men wallowed amidst them.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLIV. OF THE ONSLAUGHT OF THE MEN OF THE STEER, THE +BRIDGE, AND THE BULL</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Wild was the turmoil and confusion in the Market-stead; for the more +part of the men therein knew not what had befallen about the altar, +though some clomb up to the top of that stack of faggots built for the +burning of the thralls, and when they saw what was toward fell to yelling +and cursing; and their fellows on the plain Place could not hear their +story for the clamour, and they also fell to howling as if a wood full +of wild dogs was there.</p> +<p>And still the shafts rained down on that throng from the Bent of +the Bowmen, for another two score men of the Woodlanders had crept down +the hill to them, and shafts failed them not. But the Dusky Men +about the altar, for all their terror, or even maybe because of it, +now began to turn upon the scarce-seen foemen, and to press up wildly +toward the hill-side, though as it were without any order or aim. +Every man of them had his weapons, and those no mere gilded toys, but +their very tools of battle; and some, but no great number, had their +bows with them and a few shafts; and these began to shoot at whatsoever +they could see on the hill-side, but at first so wildly and hurriedly +that they did no harm.</p> +<p>It must be said of them that at first only those about the altar +fell on toward the hill; for those about the road that led southward +knew not what had betided nor whither to turn. So that at this +beginning of the battle, of all the thousands in the great Place it +was but a few hundreds that set on the Bent of the Bowmen, and at these +the bowmen of the kindreds shot so close and so wholly together that +they fell one over another in the narrow ways between the houses whereby +they must needs go to gather on the plain ground betwixt the backs of +the houses and the break of the hill-side. But little by little +the archers of the Dusky Men gathered behind the corpses of the slain, +and fell to shooting at what they could see of the men of the kindreds, +which at that while was not much, for as bold as they were, they fought +like wary hunters of the Wood and the Waste.</p> +<p>But now at last throughout all that throng of Felons in the Market-place +the tale began to spread of foemen come into the Dale and shooting from +the Bents, and all they turned their faces to the hill, and the whole +set of the throng was thitherward; though they fared but slowly, so +evil was the order of them, each man hindering his neighbour as he went. +And not only did the Dusky Men come flockmeal toward the Bent of the +Bowmen, but also they jostled along toward the road that led southward. +That beheld Wood-wise from the Bent, and he was minded to get him and +his aback, now that they had made so great a slaughter of the foemen; +and two or three of his fellows had been hurt by arrows, and Bow-may, +she would have been slain thrice over but for the hammer-work of the +Alderman. And no marvel was that; for now she stood on a little +mound not half covered by a thin thorn-bush, and notched and loosed +at whatever was most notable, as though she were shooting at the mark +on a summer evening in Shadowy Vale. But as Wood-wise was at point +to give the word to depart, from behind them rang out the merry sound +of the Burgdale horns, and he turned to look at the wood-side, and lo! +thereunder was the hill bright and dark with men-at-arms, and over them +floated the Banners of the Wolf, and the Banners of the Steer, the Bridge, +and the Bull. Then gave forth the bowmen of the kindreds their +first shout, and they made no stay in their shooting; but shot the eagerer, +for they deemed that help would come without their turning about to +draw it to them: and even so it was. For straightway down the +bent came striding Face-of-god betwixt the two Banners of the Wolf, +and beside him were Red-wolf the tall and War-grove, and therewithal +Wood-wont and Wood-wicked, and many other men of the Wolf; for now that +the men of the kindreds had been brought face to face with the foe, +and there was less need of them for way-leaders, the more part of them +were liefer to fight under their own banner along with the Woodlanders; +so that the company of those who went under the Wolves was more than +three long hundreds and a half; and the bowmen on the edge of the bent +shouted again and merrily, when they felt that their brothers were amongst +them, and presently was the arrow-storm at its fiercest, and the twanging +of bow-strings and the whistle of the shafts was as the wind among the +clefts of the mountains; for all the new-comers were bowmen of the best.</p> +<p>But the kindreds of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull, they hung +yet a while longer on the hills’ brow, their banners floating +over them and their horns blowing; and the Dusky Felons in the Market-place +beheld them, and fear and rage at once filled their hearts, and a fierce +and dreadful yell brake out from them, and joyously did the Men of Burgdale +answer them, and song arose amongst them even such as this:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>The Men of the Bridge sing:</i></p> +<p>Why stand ye together, why bear ye the shield,<br />Now the calf +straineth tether at edge of the field?</p> +<p>Now the lamb bleateth stronger and waters run clear,<br />And the +day groweth longer and glad is the year?</p> +<p>Now the mead-flowers jostle so thick as they stand,<br />And singeth +the throstle all over the land?</p> +<p><i>The Men of the Steer sing:</i></p> +<p>No cloud the day darkened, no thunder we heard,<br />But the horns’ +speech we hearkened as men unafeared.</p> +<p>Yea, so merry it sounded, we turned from the Dale,<br />Where all +wealth abounded, to wot of its tale.</p> +<p><i>The Men of the Bridge sing:</i></p> +<p>What white boles then bear ye, what wealth of the woods?<br />What +chafferers hear ye bid loud for your goods?</p> +<p><i>The Men of the Bull sing:</i></p> +<p>O the bright beams we carry are stems of the steel;<br />Nor long +shall we tarry across them to deal.</p> +<p>Hark the men of the cheaping, how loudly they cry<br />On the hook +for the reaping of men doomed to die!</p> +<p><i>They all sing:</i></p> +<p>Heave spear up! fare forward, O Men of the Dale!<br />For the Warrior, +our war-ward, shall hearken the tale.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Therewith they ceased a moment, and then gave a great and hearty +shout all together, and all their horns blew, and they moved on down +the hill as one man, slowly and with no jostling, the spear-men first, +and then they of the axe and the sword; and on their flanks the deft +archers loosed on the stumbling jostling throng of the Dusky Men, who +for their part came on drifting and surging up the road to the hill.</p> +<p>But when those big spearmen of the Dale had gone a little way the +horns’ voice died out, and their great-staved spears rose up from +their shoulders into the air, and stood so a moment, and then slowly +fell forward, as the oars of the longship fall into the row-locks, and +then over the shoulders of the foremost men showed the steel of the +five ranks behind them, and their own spears cast long bars of shadow +on the whiteness of the sunny road. No sound came from them now +save the rattle of their armour and the tramp of their steady feet; +but from the Dusky Men rose up hideous confused yelling, and those that +could free themselves from the tangle of the throng rushed desperately +against the on-rolling hedge of steel, and the whole throng shoved on +behind them. Then met steel and men; here and there an ash-stave +broke; here and there a Dusky Felon rolled himself unhurt under the +ash-staves, and hewed the knees of the Dalesmen, and a tall man came +tottering down; but what men or wood-wights could endure the push of +spears of those mighty husbandmen? The Dusky Ones shrunk back +yelling, or turned their backs and rushed at their own folk with such +fierce agony that they entered into the throng, till the terror of the +spear reached to the midmost of it and swayed them back on the hindermost; +for neither was there outgate for the felons on the flanks of the spearmen, +since there the feathered death beset them, and the bowmen (and the +Bride amongst the foremost) shot wholly together, and no shaft flew +idly. But the wise leaders of the Dalesmen would not that they +should thrust in too far amongst the howling throng of the Dusky Men, +lest they should be hemmed in by them; for they were but a handful in +regard to them: so there they stayed, barring the way to the Dusky Men, +and the bowmen still loosed from the flanks of them, or aimed deftly +from betwixt the ranks of the spearmen.</p> +<p>And now was there a space of ten strides or more betwixt the Dalesmen +and their foes, over which the spears hung terribly, nor durst the Dusky +Men adventure there; and thereon was nought but men dead or sorely hurt. +Then suddenly a horn rang thrice shrilly over all the noise and clamour +of the throng, and the ranks of the spearmen opened, and forth into +that space strode two score of the swordsmen and axe-wielders of the +Dale, their weapons raised in their hands, and he who led them was Iron-hand +of the House of the Bull: tall he was, wide-shouldered, exceeding strong, +but beardless and fair-faced. He bore aloft a two-edged sword, +broad-bladed, exceeding heavy, so that few men could wield it in battle, +but not right long; it was an ancient weapon, and his father before +him had called it the Barley-scythe. With him were some of the +best of the kindreds, as Wolf of Whitegarth, Long-hand of Oakholt, Hart +of Highcliff, and War-well the captain of the Bridge. These made +no tarrying on that space of the dead, but cried aloud their cries: +‘For the Burg and the Steer! for the Dale and the Bridge! for +the Dale and the Bull!’ and so fell at once on the Felons; who +fled not, nor had room to flee; and also they feared not the edge-weapons +so sorely as they feared those huge spears. So they turned fiercely +on the swordsmen, and chiefly on Iron-hand, as he entered in amongst +them the first of all, hewing to the right hand and the left, and many +a man fell before the Barley-scythe; for they were but little before +him. Yet as one fell another took his place, and hewed at him +with the steel axe and the crooked sword; and with many strokes they +clave his shield and brake his helm and rent his byrny, while he heeded +little save smiting with the Barley-scythe, and the blood ran from his +arm and his shoulder and his thigh.</p> +<p>But War-well had entered in among the foe on his left hand, and unshielded +hove up a great broad-bladed axe, that clave the iron helms of the Dusky +Men, and rent their horn-scaled byrnies. He was not very tall, +but his shoulders were huge and his arms long, and nought could abide +his stroke. He cleared a ring round Iron-hand, whose eyes were +growing dim as the blood flowed from him, and hewed three strokes before +him; then turned and drew the champion out of the throng, and gave him +into the arms of his fellows to stanch the blood that drained away the +might of his limbs; and then with a great wordless roar leaped back +again on the Dusky Men as the lion leapeth on the herd of swine; and +they shrank away before him; and all the swordsmen shouted, ‘For +the Bridge, for the Bridge!’ and pressed on the harder, smiting +down all before them. On his left hand now was Hart of Highcliff +wielding a good sword hight Chip-driver, wherewith he had slain and +hurt a many, fighting wisely with sword and shield, and driving the +point home through the joints of the armour. But even therewith, +as he drave a great stroke at a lord of the Dusky Ones, a cast-spear +came flying and smote him on the breast, so that he staggered, and the +stroke fell flatlings on the shield-boss of his foe, and Chip-driver +brake atwain nigh the hilts; but Hart closed with him, and smote him +on the face with the pommel, and tore his axe from his hand and clave +his skull therewith, and slew him with his own weapon, and fought on +valiantly beside War-well.</p> +<p>Now War-well had fought so fiercely that he had rent his own hauberk +with the might of his strokes, and as he raised his arm to smite a huge +stroke, a deft man of the Felons thrust the spike of his war-axe up +under his arm; and when War-well felt the smart of the steel, he turned +on that man, and, letting his axe fall down to his wrist and hang there +by its loop, he caught the foeman up by the neck and the breech, and +drave him against the other Dusky Ones before him, so that their weapons +pierced and rent their own friend and fellow. Then he put forth +the might of his arms and the pith of his body, and hove up that felon +and cast him on to the heads of his fellow murder-carles, so that he +rent them and was rent by them. Then War-well fell on again with +the axe, and all the champions of the Dale shouted and fell on with +him, and the foe shrank away; and the Dalesmen cleared a space five +fathoms’ length before them, and the spearmen drew onward and +stood on the space whereon the first onslaught had been.</p> +<p>Then drew those hewers of the Dale together, and forth from the company +came the man that bare the Banner of the Bridget and the champions gathered +round him, and they ordered their ranks and strode with the Banner before +them three times to and fro across the road athwart the front of the +spearmen, and then with a great shout drew back within the spear-hedge. +Albeit five of the champions of the Dale had been slain outright there, +and the more part of them hurt more or less.</p> +<p>But when all were well within the ranks, once again blew the horn, +and all the spears sank to the rest, and the kindreds drave the spear-furrow, +and a space was swept clear before them, and the cries and yells of +the Dusky Men were so fierce and wild that the rough voices of the Dalesmen +were drowned amidst them.</p> +<p>Forth then came every bowman of the kindred that was there and loosed +on the Dusky Men; and they forsooth had some bowmen amongst them, but +cooped up and jostled as they were they shot but wildly; whereas each +shaft of the Dale went home truly.</p> +<p>But amongst the bowmen forth came the Bride in her glittering war-gear, +and stepped lightly to the front of the spearmen. Her own yew +bow had been smitten by a shaft and broken in her hand: so she had caught +up a short horn bow and a quiver from one of the slain of the Dusky +Men; and now she knelt on one knee under the shadow of the spears nigh +to her grandsire Hall-ward, and with a pale face and knitted brow notched +and loosed, and notched and loosed on the throng of foemen, as if she +were some daintily fashioned engine of war.</p> +<p>So fared the battle on the road that went from the south into the +Market-stead. Valiantly had the kindred fought there, and no man +of them had blenched, and much had they won; but the way was perilous +before them, for the foe was many and many.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLV. OF FACE-OF-GOD’S ONSLAUGHT</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Now the banners of the Wolf flapped and rippled over the heads of +the Woodlanders and the Men of the Wolf; and the men shot all they might, +nor took heed now to cover themselves against the shafts of the Dusky +Men. As for these, for all they were so many, their arrow-shot +was no great matter, for they were in very evil order, as has been said; +and moreover, their rage was so great to come to handy strokes with +these foemen, that some of them flung away their bows to brandish the +axe or the sword. Nevertheless were some among the kindred hurt +or slain by their arrows.</p> +<p>Now stood Face-of-god with the foremost; and from where he stood +he could see somewhat of the battle of the Dalesmen, and he wotted that +it was thriving; therefore he looked before him and close around him, +and noted what was toward there. The space betwixt the houses +and the break of the bent was crowded with the fury of the Dusky Men +tossing their weapons aloft, crying to each other and at the kindred, +and here and there loosing a bow-string on them; but whatever was their +rage they might not come a many together past a line within ten fathom +of the bent’s end; for three hundred of the best of bowmen were +shooting at them so ceaselessly that no Dusky man was safe of any bare +place of his body, and they fell over one another in that penfold of +slaughter, and for all their madness did but little.</p> +<p>Yet was the heart of the War-leader troubled; for he wotted that +it might not last for ever, and there seemed no end to the throng of +murder-carles; and the time would come when the arrowshot would be spent, +and they must needs come to handy strokes, and that with so many.</p> +<p>Now a voice spake to him as he gazed with knitted brows and careful +heart on that turmoil of battle:</p> +<p>‘What now hast thou done with the Sun-beam, and where is her +brother? Is the Chief of the Wolf skulking when our work is so +heavy? And thou meseemeth art overlate on the field: the mowing +of this meadow is no sluggard’s work.’</p> +<p>He turned and beheld Bow-may, and gazed on her face for a moment, +and saw her eyes how they glittered, and how the pommels of her cheeks +were burning red and her lips dry and grey; but before he answered he +looked all round about to see what was to note; and he touched Bow-may +on the shoulder and pointed to down below where a man of the Felons +had just come out of the court of one of the houses: a man taller than +most, very gaily arrayed, with gilded scales all over him, so that, +with his dark face and blue eyes, he looked like some strange dragon. +Bow-may spake not, but stamped her foot with anger. Yet if her +heart were hot, her hand was steady; for she notched a shaft, and just +as the Dusky Chief raised his axe and brandished it aloft, she loosed, +and the shaft flew and smote the felon in the armpit and the default +of the armour, and he fell to earth. But even as she loosed, Face-of-god +cried out in a loud voice:</p> +<p>‘O lads of battle! shoot close and all together. Tarry +not, tarry not! for we need a little time ere sword meets sword, and +the others of the kindreds are at work!’</p> +<p>But Bow-may turned round to him and said: ‘Wilt thou not answer +me? Where is thy kindness gone?’</p> +<p>Even as she was speaking she had notched and loosed another shaft, +speaking as folk do who turn from busy work at loom or bench.</p> +<p>Then said Face-of-god: ‘Shoot on, sister Bow-may! The +Sun-beam is gone with her brother, and he is with the Men of the Face.’</p> +<p>He broke off here, for a man fell beside him hurt in the neck, and +Face-of-god took his bow from his hands and shot a shaft, while one +of the women who had been hurt also tended the newly-wounded man. +Then Face-of-god went on speaking:</p> +<p>‘She was unwilling to go, but Folk-might and I constrained +her; for we knew that this is the most perilous place of the battle +- hah! see those three felons, Bow-may! they are aiming hither.’</p> +<p>And again he loosed and Bow-may also, but a shaft rattled on his +helm withal and another smote a Woodlander beside him, and pierced through +the calf of his leg, as he turned and stooped to take fresh arrows from +a sheaf that lay there; but the carle took it by the notch and the point, +and brake it and drew it out, and then stood up and went on shooting. +And Face-of-god spake again:</p> +<p>‘Folk-might skulketh not; nor the Men of the Vine, and the +Sickle, and the Face, nor the Shepherd-Folk: soon shall they be making +our work easy to us, if we can hold our own till then. They are +on the other roads that lead into the square. Now suffer me, and +shoot on!’</p> +<p>Therewith he looked round about him, and he saw on the left hand +that all was quiet; and before him was the confused throng of the Dusky +Men trampling their own dead and wounded, and not able as yet to cross +that death-line of the arrow so near to them. But on his right +hand he saw how they of the kindreds held them firm on the way. +Then for a moment of time he considered and thought, till him-seemed +he could see the whole battle yet to be foughten; and his face flushed, +and he said sharply: ‘Bow-may, abide here and shoot, and show +the others where to shoot, while the arrows hold out; but we will go +further for a while, and ye shall follow when we have made the rent +great enough.’</p> +<p>She turned to him and said: ‘Why art thou not more joyous? +thou art like an host without music or banners.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said he, ‘heed not me, but my bidding!’</p> +<p>She said hastily: ‘I think I shall die here; since for all +we have shot we minish them nowise. Now kiss me this once amidst +the battle, and say farewell.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Nay, nay; it shall not go thus. Abide a little +while, and thou shalt see all this tangle open, as the sun cleaveth +the clouds on the autumn morning. Yet lo thou! since thou wilt +have it so.’</p> +<p>And he bent forward and kissed her face, and now the tears ran over +it, and she said smiling somewhat: ‘Now is this more than I looked +for, whatso may betide.’</p> +<p>But while she was yet speaking he cried in a great voice:</p> +<p>‘Ye who have spent your shot, or have nigh spent it, to axe +and sword, and follow me to clear the ground ’twixt the bent and +the halls. Let each help each, but throng not each other. +Shoot wisely, ye bowmen, and keep our backs clear of the foe. +On, on! for the Burg and the Face, for the Burg and the Face!’</p> +<p>Therewith he leapt down the steep of the hill, bounding like the +hart, with Dale-warden naked in his hand; and they that followed were +two score and ten; and the arrows of their bowmen rained over their +heads on the Dusky Men, as they smote down the first of the foemen, +and the others shrieked and shrank from them, or turned on them smiting +wildly and desperately.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god swept round the great sword and plunged into that +sea of turmoil and noise and evil sights and savours, and even therewith +he heard clearly a voice that said: ‘Goldring, I am hurt; take +my bow a while!’ and knew it for Bow-may’s; but it came +to his ears like the song of a bird without meaning; for it was as if +his life were changed at once; and in a minute or two he had cut thrice +with the edge and thrust twice with the point, eager, but clear-eyed +and deft; and he saw as in a picture the foe before him, and the grey +roofs of Silver-stead, and through the gap in them the tops of the blue +ridges far aloof. And now had three fallen before him, and they +feared him, and turned on him, and smote so many together that their +strokes crossed each other, and one warded him from the other; and he +laughed aloud and shielded himself, and drave the point of Dale-warden +amidst the tangle of weapons through the open mouth of a captain of +the Felons, and slashed a cheek with a back-stroke, and swept round +the edge to his right hand and smote off a blue-eyed snub-nosed head; +and therewith a pole-axe smote him on the left side of his helm, so +that he tottered; but he swung himself round, and stood stark and upright, +and gave a short hack with the edge, keeping Dale-warden well in hand, +and a gold-clad felon, a champion of them, and their tallest on the +ground, fell aback, his throat gaping more than the mouth of him.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god shouted and waved Dale-warden aloft to the Banner +of the Wolf that floated behind and above him, and he cried out: ‘As +I have promised so have I done!’ And he looked about, and +beheld how valiantly his fellows had been doing; for before him now +was a space of earth with no man standing on his feet thereon, like +the swathe of the mowers of June; and beyond that was the crowd of the +Dusky Men wavering like the tall grass abiding the scythe.</p> +<p>But a minute, and they fell to casting at Face-of-god and his fellows +spears and knives and shields and whatsoever would fly; and a spear +smote him on the breast, but entered not; and a bossed shield fell over +his face withal, and a plummet of sling-lead smote his helm, and he +fell to earth; but leapt up again straightway, and heard as he arose +a great shout close to him, and a shrill cry, and lo! at his left side +Bow-may, her sword in her hand, and the hand red with blood from a shaft-graze +on her wrist, and a white cloth stained with blood about her neck; and +on his right side Wood-wise bearing the banner and crying the Wolf-whoop; +for the whole company was come down from the slope and stood around +him.</p> +<p>Then for a little while was there such a stilling of the tumult about +him there, that he heard great and glad cries from the Road of the South +of ‘The Burg and the Steer! The Dale and the Bridge! +The Dale and the Bull!’ And thereafter a terrible great +shrieking cry, and a huge voice that cried: ‘Death, death, death +to the Dusky Men!’ And thereafter again fierce cries and +great tumult of the battle.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god shook Dale-warden in the air, and strode forward +fiercely, but not speedily, and the whole company went foot for foot +along with him; and as he went, would he or would he not, song came +into his mouth, a song of the meadows of the Dale, even such as this:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>The wheat is done blooming and rust’s on the sickle,<br /> And +green are the meadows grown after the scythe.<br />Come, hands for the +dance! For the toil hath been mickle,<br /> And +’twixt haysel and harvest ’tis time to be blithe.</p> +<p>And what shall the tale be now dancing is over,<br /> And +kind on the meadow sits maiden by man,<br />And the old man bethinks +him of days of the lover,<br /> And the warrior remembers +the field that he wan?</p> +<p>Shall we tell of the dear days wherein we are dwelling,<br /> The +best days of our Mother, the cherishing Dale,<br />When all round about +us the summer is telling,<br /> To ears that may hearken, +the heart of the tale?</p> +<p>Shall we sing of these hands and these lips that caress us,<br /> And +the limbs that sun-dappled lie light here beside,<br />When still in +the morning they rise but to bless us,<br /> And oft +in the midnight our footsteps abide?</p> +<p>O nay, but to tell of the fathers were better,<br /> And +of how we were fashioned from out of the earth;<br />Of how the once +lowly spurned strong at the fetter;<br /> Of the days +of the deeds and beginning of mirth.</p> +<p>And then when the feast-tide is done in the morning,<br /> Shall +we whet the grey sickle that bideth the wheat,<br />Till wan grow the +edges, and gleam forth a warning<br /> Of the field +and the fallow where edges shall meet.</p> +<p>And when cometh the harvest, and hook upon shoulder<br /> We +enter the red wheat from out of the road,<br />We shall sing, as we +wend, of the bold and the bolder,<br /> And the Burg +of their building, the beauteous abode.</p> +<p>As smiteth the sickle amid the sun’s burning<br /> We +shall sing how the sun saw the token unfurled,<br />When forth fared +the Folk, with no thought of returning,<br /> In the +days when the Banner went wide in the world.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Many saw that he was singing, but heard not the words of his mouth, +for great was the noise and clamour. But he heard Bow-may, how +she laughed by his side, and cried out:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane, dear-heart, now art thou merry indeed; and glad +am I, though they told me that I am hurt. - Ah! now beware, beware!’</p> +<p>For indeed the Dusky Men, seeing the wall of steel rolling down on +them, and cooped up by the houses, so that they scarce knew how to flee, +turned in the face of death, the foremost of them, and rushed furiously +on the array of the Woodlanders, and all those behind pressed on them +like the big wave of the ebbing sea when the gust of the wind driveth +it landward.</p> +<p>The Woodlanders met them, shouting out: ‘The Greenwood and +the Wolf, the Greenwood and the Wolf!’ But not a few of +them fell there, though they gave not back a foot; for so fierce now +were the Dusky Men, that hewing and thrusting at them availed nought, +unless they were slain outright or stunned; and even if they fell they +rolled themselves up against their tall foe-men, heeding not death or +wounds if they might but slay or wound. There then fell War-grove +and ten others of the Woodlanders, and four men of the Wolf, but none +before he had slain his foeman; and as each man fell or was hurt grievously, +another took his place.</p> +<p>Now a felon leapt up and caught Gold-ring by the neck and drew him +down, while another strove to smite his head off; but the stout carle +drave a wood-knife into the side of the first felon, and drew it out +speedily and smote the other, the smiter, in the face with the same +knife, and therewith they all three rolled together on the earth amongst +the feet of men. Even so did another felon by Bow-may, and dragged +her down to the ground, and smote her with a long knife as she tumbled +down; and this was a feat of theirs, for they were long-armed like apes.</p> +<p>But as to this felon, Dale-warden’s edge split his skull, and +Face-of-god gathered his might together and bestrode Bow-may, till he +had hewed a space round about him with great two-handed strokes; and +yet the blade brake not. Then he caught up Bow-may from the earth, +and the felon’s knife had not pierced her hauberk, but she was +astonied, and might not stand upon her feet; and Face-of-god turned +aside a little with her, and half bore her, half thrust her through +the throng to the rearward of his folk, and left her there with two +carlines of the Wolf who followed the host for leechcraft’s sake, +and then turned back shouting: ‘For the Face, for the Face!’ +and there followed him back to the battle, a band of those who were +fresh as yet, and their blades unbloodied, the young men of the Woodlands.</p> +<p>The wearier fighters made way for them as they came on shouting, +and Face-of-god was ahead of them all, and leapt at the foemen as a +man unwearied and striking his first stroke, so wondrous hale he was; +and they drave a wedge amidst of the Dusky Men, and then turned about +and stood back to back hewing at all that drifted on them. But +as Face-of-god cleared a space about him, lo! almost within reach of +his sword-point up rose a grim shape from the earth, tall, grey-haired, +and bloody-faced, who uttered the Wolf-whoop from amidst the terror +of his visage, and turned and swung round his head an axe of the Dusky +Men, and fell to smiting them with their own weapon. The Dusky +Men shrieked in answer to his whoop, and all shrunk from him and Face-of-god; +but a cry of joy went up from the kindred, for they knew Gold-ring, +whom they deemed had been slain. So they all pressed on together, +smiting down the foe before them, and the Dusky Men, some turned their +backs and drave those behind them, till they too turned and were strained +through the passages and courts of the houses, and some were overthrown +and trodden down as they strove to hold face to the Woodlanders, and +some were hewn down where they stood; but the whole throng of those +that were on their feet drifted toward the Market-place, the Woodlanders +following them ever with point and edge, till betwixt the bent and the +houses no foeman stood up against them.</p> +<p>Then they stood together, and raised the whoop of victory, and blew +their horns long and loud in token of their joy, and the Woodland men +lifted up their voices and sang:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p> Now far, far aloof<br /> Standeth +lintel and roof,<br /> The dwelling of days<br /> Of +the Woodland ways:<br /> Now nought wendeth there<br /> Save +the wolf and the bear,<br /> And the fox of the waste<br /> Faring +soft without haste.<br />No carle the axe whetteth on oak-laden hill;<br />No +shaft the hart letteth to wend at his will;<br />None heedeth the thunder-clap +over the glade,<br />And the wind-storm thereunder makes no man afraid.<br />Is +it thus then that endeth man’s days on Mid-earth,<br />For no +man there wendeth in sorrow or mirth?</p> +<p> Nay, look down on the road<br /> From +the ancient abode!<br /> Betwixt acre and field<br /> Shineth +helm, shineth shield.<br /> And high over the heath<br /> Fares +the bane in his sheath;<br /> For the wise men and +bold<br /> Go their ways o’er the wold.<br />Now +the Warrior hath given them heart and fair day,<br />Unbidden, undriven, +they fare to the fray.<br />By the rock and the river the banners they +bear,<br />And their battle-staves quiver ’neath halbert and spear;<br />On +the hill’s brow they gather, and hang o’er the Dale<br />As +the clouds of the Father hang, laden with bale.</p> +<p> Down shineth the sun<br /> On +the war-deed half done;<br /> All the fore-doomed to +die,<br /> In the pale dust they lie.<br /> There +they leapt, there they fell,<br /> And their tale shall +we tell;<br /> But we, e’en in the gate<br /> Of +the war-garth we wait,<br />Till the drift of war-weather shall whistle +us on,<br />And we tread all together the way to be won,<br />To the +dear land, the dwelling for whose sake we came<br />To do deeds for +the telling of song-becrowned fame.<br />Settle helm on the head then! +Heave sword for the Dale!<br />Nor be mocked of the dead men for deedless +and pale.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVI. MEN MEET IN THE MARKET OF SILVER-STEAD</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>So sang they; but Face-of-god went with Red-wolf, who was hurt sorely, +but not deadly, and led him back toward the place just under the break +of the bent; and there he found Bow-may in the hands of the women who +were tending her hurts. She smiled on him from a pale face as +he drew nigh, and he looked kindly at her, but he might not abide there, +for haste was in his feet. He left Red-wolf to the tending of +the women, and clomb the bent hastily, and when he deemed he was high +enough, he looked about him; and somewhat more than half an hour had +worn since Bow-may had sped the first shaft against the Dusky Men.</p> +<p>He looked down into the Market-stead, and deemed he could see that +nigh the Mote-house the Dusky Men were gathering into some better order; +but they were no longer drifting toward the southern bents, but were +standing round about the altar as men abiding somewhat; and he deemed +that they had gotten more bowshot than before, and that most of them +bare bows. Though so many had been slain in the battles of the +southern bents, yet was the Market-stead full of them, so to say, for +others had come thereto in place of those that had fallen.</p> +<p>But now as he looked arose mighty clamour amongst them; and a little +west of the Altar was a stir and a hurrying onward and around as in +the eddies of a swift stream. Face-of-god wotted not what was +betiding there, but he deemed that they were now ware of the onfall +of Folk-might and Hall-face and the men of Burgdale, for their faces +were all turned to where that was to be looked for.</p> +<p>So he turned and looked on the road to the east of him, where had +been the battle of the Steer, but now it was all gone down toward the +Market-place, and he could but hear the clamour of it; but nought he +saw thereof, because of the houses that hid it.</p> +<p>Then he cast his eyes on the road that entered the Market-stead from +the north, and he saw thereon many men gathered; and he wotted not what +they were; for though there were weapons amongst them, yet were they +not all weaponed, as far as he could see.</p> +<p>Now as he looked this way and that, and deemed that he must tarry +no longer, but must enter into the courts of the houses before him and +make his way into the Market-stead, lo! a change in the throng of Dusky +Warriors nigh the Mote-house, and the ordered bands about the Altar +fell to drifting toward the western way with one accord, with great +noise and hurry and fierce cries of wrath. Then made Face-of-god +no delay, but ran down the bent at once, and at the break of it came +upon Bow-may standing upright and sword in hand; and as he passed, she +joined herself to him, and said: ‘What new tidings now, Gold-mane?’</p> +<p>‘Tidings of battle!’ he cried; ‘tidings of victory! +Folk-might hath fallen on, and the Dusky Men run hastily to meet him. +Hark, hark!’</p> +<p>For as he spoke came a great noise of horns, and Bow-may said: ‘What +horn is that blowing?’</p> +<p>He stayed not, but shouted aloud: ‘For the Face, for the Face! +Now will we fall upon their backs!’</p> +<p>Therewith was he come to his company, and he cried out to them: ‘Heard +ye the horn, heard ye the horn? Now follow me into the Market-place; +much is yet to do!’</p> +<p>Even therewith came the sound of other horns, and all men were silent +a moment, and then shouted all together, for the Wood-landers knew it +for the horn of the Shepherds coming on by the eastward way.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god waved his sword aloft and set on at once, and they +followed and gat them through the courts of the houses and their passages +into the Market-place. There they found more room than they looked +to find; for the foemen had drawn away on the left hand toward the battle +of Folk-might, and on the right hand toward the battle of the Steer; +and great was the noise and cry that came thence.</p> +<p>Now stood Face-of-god under the two banners of the Wolf in the Market-place +of Silver-stead, and scarce had he time to be high-hearted, for needs +must he ponder in his mind what thing were best to do. For on +the left hand he deemed the foe was the strongest and best ordered; +but there also were the kindreds the doughtiest, and it was little like +that the felons should overcome the spear-casters of the Face and the +glaive-bearers of the Sickle, and the bowmen of the Vine: there also +were the wisest leaders, as the stark elder Stone-face, and the tall +Hall-face, and his father of the unshaken heart, and above all Folk-might, +fierce in his wrath, but his anger burning steady and clear, like the +oaken butt on the hearth of the hall.</p> +<p>Then as his mind pictured him amongst the foe, it made therewith +another picture of the slender warrior Sun-beam caught in the tangle +of battle, and longing for him and calling for him amidst the hard hand-play. +And thereat his face flushed, and all his body waxed hot, and he was +on the very point of leading the onset against the foe on the left. +But therewith he bethought him of the bold men of the Steer and the +Bridge and the Bull weary with much fighting; and he remembered also +that the Bride was amongst them and fighting, it might be, amidst the +foremost, and if she were slain how should he ever hold up his head +again. He bethought him also that the Shepherds, who had fallen +on by the eastern road, valiant as they were, were scarce so well armed +or so well led as the others. Therewithal he bethought him (and +again it came like a picture into his mind) of falling on the foemen +by whom the southern battle was beset, and then the twain of them meeting +the Shepherds, and lastly, all those three companies joined together +clearing the Market-place, and meeting the men under Folk-might in the +midst thereof.</p> +<p>Therefore, scant had he been pondering these things in his mind for +a minute ere he cried out: ‘Blow up horns, blow up! forward banners, +and follow me, O valiant men! to the helping of the Steer, the Bridge, +and the Bull; deep have they thrust into the Dusky Throng, and belike +are hard pressed. Hark how the clamour ariseth from their besetters! +On now, on!’</p> +<p>Therewith hung a star of sunlight on his sword as he raised it aloft, +and the Wolf-whoop rang out terribly in the Market-place, for now had +the Woodlanders also learned it, and the hearts of the foemen sank as +they heard the might and the mass thereof. Then the battle of +the Woodlanders swept round and fell upon the flank of them who were +besetting the kindreds, as an iron bar smiteth the soft fir-wood; and +they of the kindreds heard their cry, but faintly and confusedly, so +great was the turmoil of battle about them.</p> +<p>Now once more was Bow-may by the side of Face-of-god; and if she +had not the might of the mightiest, yet had she the deftness of the +deftest. And now was she calm and cool, shielding herself with +a copper-bossed target, and driving home the point of her sharp sword; +white was her face, and her eyes glittered amidst it, and she seemed +to men like to those on whose heads the Warrior hath laid the Holy Bread.</p> +<p>As to Wood-wise, he had given the Banner of the red-jawed Wolf to +Stone-wolf, a huge and dreadful warrior some forty winters old, who +had fought in the Great Overthrow, and now hewed down the Dusky Men, +wielding a heavy short-sword left-handed. But Wood-wise himself +fought with a great sword, giving great strokes to the right hand and +the left, and was no more hasty than is the hewer in the winter wood.</p> +<p>Face-of-god fought wisely and coldly now, and looked more to warding +his friends than destroying his foes, and both to Bow-may and Wood-wise +his sword was a shield; for oft he took the life from the edge of the +upraised axe, and stayed the point of the foeman in mid-air.</p> +<p>Even so wisely fought the whole band of the Woodlanders and the Wolves, +who got within smiting space of the foe; for they had no will to cast +away their lives when assured victory was so nigh to them. Sooth +to say, the hand-play was not so hard to them as it had been betwixt +the bent and the houses; for the Dusky Men were intent on dealing with +the men of the kindreds from the southern road, who stood war-wearied +before them; and they were hewing and casting at them, and baying and +yelling like dogs; and though they turned about to meet the storm of +the Woodlanders, yet their hearts failed them withal, and they strove +to edge away from betwixt those two fearful scythes of war, fighting +as men fleeing, not as men in onset. But still the Woodlanders +and the Wolves came on, hewing and thrusting, smiting down the foemen +in heaps, till the Dusky Throng grew thin, and the staves of the Dalesmen +and their bright banners in the morning sun were clear to see, and at +last their very faces, kindly and familiar, worn and strained with the +stress of battle, or laughing wildly, or pale with the fury of the fight. +Then rose up to the heavens the blended shout of the Woodlanders and +the Dalesmen, and now there was nought of foemen betwixt them save the +dead and the wounded.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god thrust his sword into its sheath all bloody as it +was, and strode over the dead men to where Hall-ward stood under the +banner of the Steer, and cast his arms about the old carle, and kissed +him for joy of the victory. But Hall-ward thrust him aback and +looked him in the face, and his cheeks were pale and his lips clenched, +and his eyes haggard and staring, and he said in a harsh voice:</p> +<p>‘O young man, she is dead! I saw her fall. The +Bride is dead, and thou hast lost thy troth-plight maiden. O death, +death to the Dusky Men!’</p> +<p>Then grew Face-of-god as pale as a linen sleeve, and all the new-comers +groaned and cried out. But a bystander said: ‘Nay, nay, +it is nought so bad as that; she is hurt, and sorely; but she liveth +yet.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god heard him not. He forgot Dale-warden lying in his +sheath, and he saw that the last speaker had a great wood-axe broad +and heavy in his hand, so he cried: ‘Man, man, thine axe!’ +and snatched it from him, and turned about to the foe again, and thrust +through the ranks, suffering none to stay him till all his friends were +behind and all his foes before him. And as he burst forth from +the ranks waving his axe aloft, bare-headed now, his yellow hair flying +abroad, his mouth crying out, ‘Death, death, death to the Dusky +Men!’ fear of him smote their hearts, and they howled and fled +before him as they might; for they said that the Dalesmen had prayed +their Gods into the battle. But not so fast could they flee but +he was presently amidst them, smiting down all about him, and they so +terror-stricken that scarce might they raise a hand against him. +All that blended host followed him mad with wrath and victory, and as +they pressed on, they heard behind them the horns and war-cries of the +Shepherds falling on from the east. Nought they heeded that now, +but drave on a fearful storm of war, and terrible was the slaughter +of the Felons.</p> +<p>It was but a few minutes ere they had driven them up against that +great stack of faggots that had been dight for the burnt-offering of +men, and many of the felons had mounted up on to it, and now in their +anguish of fear were shooting arrows and casting spears on all about +them, heeding little if they were friend or foe. Now were the +men of the kindreds at point to climb this twiggen burg; but by this +time the fury of Face-of-god had run clear, and he knew where he was +and what he was doing; so he stayed his folk, and cried out to them: +‘Forbear, climb not! let the torch help the sword!’ +And therewith he looked about and saw the fire-pot which had been set +down there for the kindling of the bale-fire, and the coals were yet +red in it; so he snatched up a dry brand and lighted it thereat, and +so did divers others, and they thrust them among the faggots, and the +fire caught at once, and the tongues of flame began to leap from faggot +to faggot till all was in a light low; for the wood had been laid for +that very end, and smeared with grease and oil so that the burning to +the god might be speedy.</p> +<p>But the fierceness of the kindreds heeded not the fire, nor overmuch +the men who leapt down from the stack before it, but they left all behind +them, faring straight toward the western outgate from the Market-stead; +and Face-of-god still led them on; though by now he was wholly come +to his right mind again, albeit the burden of sorrow yet lay heavy on +his heart. He had broken his axe, and had once more drawn Dale-warden +from his sheath, and many felt his point and edge.</p> +<p>But now, as they chased, came a rush of men upon them again, as though +a new onset were at hand. That saw Face-of-god and Hall-ward and +War-well, and other wise leaders of men, and they bade their folk forbear +the chase, and lock their ranks to meet the onfall of this new wave +of foemen. And they did so, and stood fast as a wall; but lo! +the onrush that drave up against them was but a fleeing shrieking throng, +and no longer an array of warriors, for many had cast away their weapons, +and were rushing they knew not whither; for they were being thrust on +the bitter edges of Face-of-god’s companies by the terror of the +fleers from the onset of the men of the Face, the Sickle, and the Vine, +whom Hall-face and Stone-face were leading, along with Folk-might. +Then once again the men of Face-of-god gave forth the whoop of victory, +and pressed forward again, hewing their way through the throng of fleers, +but turning not to chase to the right or the left; while at their backs +came on the Shepherd-folk, who had swept down all that withstood them; +for now indeed was the Market-stead getting thinner of living men.</p> +<p>So led the War-leader his ordered ranks, till at last over the tangled +crowd of runaways he saw the banners of the Burg and the Face flashing +against the sun, and heard the roar of the kindreds as they drave the +chase towards them. Then he lifted up his sword, and stood still, +and all the host behind him stayed and cast a huge shout up to the heavens, +and there they abode the coming of the other Dalesmen.</p> +<p>But the War-leader sent a message to Hound-under-Greenbury, bidding +him lead the Shepherds to the chase of the Dusky Men, who were now all +fleeing toward the northern outgate of the Market. Howbeit he +called to mind the throng he had seen on the northern road before they +were come into the Market-stead, and deemed that way also death awaited +the foemen, even if the men of the kindreds forbore them.</p> +<p>But presently the space betwixt the Woodlanders and the men of the +Face was clear of all but the dead, so that friend saw the face of friend; +and it could be seen that the warriors of the Face were ruddy and smiling +for joy, because the battle had been easy to them, and but few of them +had fallen; for the Dusky Men who had left the Market-stead to fall +on them, had had room for fleeing behind them, and had speedily turned +their backs before the spear-casting of the men of the Face and the +onrush of the swordsmen.</p> +<p>There then stood these victorious men facing one another, and the +banner-bearers on either side came through the throng, and brought the +banners together between the two hosts; and the Wolf kissed the Face, +and the Sickle and the Vine met the Steer and the Bridge and the Bull: +but the Shepherds were yet chasing the fleers.</p> +<p>There in the forefront stood Hall-face the tall, with the joy of +battle in his eyes. And Stone-face, the wise carle in war, stood +solemn and stark beside him; and there was the goodly body and the fair +and kindly visage of the Alderman smiling on the faces of his friends. +But as for Folk-might, his face was yet white and aweful with anger, +and he looked restlessly up and down the front of the kindreds, though +he spake no word.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god could no longer forbear, but he thrust Dale-warden +into his sheath, and ran forward and cast his arms about his father’s +neck and kissed him; and the blood of himself and of the foemen was +on him, for he had been hurt in divers places, but not sorely, because +of the good hammer-work of the Alderman.</p> +<p>Then he kissed his brother and Stone-face, and he took Folk-might +by the hand, and was on the point of speaking some word to him, when +the ranks of the Face opened, and lo! the Sun-beam in her bright war-gear, +and the sword girt to her side, and she unhurt and unsullied.</p> +<p>Then was it to him as when he met her first in Shadowy Vale, and +he thought of little else than her; but she stepped lightly up to him, +and unashamed before the whole host she kissed him on the mouth, and +he cast his mailed arms about her, and joy made him forget many things +and what was next to do, though even at that moment came afresh a great +clamour of shrieks and cries from the northern outgate of the Market-stead: +and the burning pile behind them cast a great wavering flame into the +air, contending with the bright sun of that fair day, now come hard +on noontide. But ere he drew away his face from the Sun-beam’s, +came memory to him, and a sharp pang shot through his heart, as he heard +Folk-might say: ‘Where then is the Shield-may of Burgstead? where +is the Bride?’</p> +<p>And Face-of-god said under his breath: ‘She is dead, she is +dead!’ And then he stared out straight before him and waited +till someone else should say it aloud. But Bow-may stepped forward +and said: ‘Chief of the Wolf, be of good cheer; our kinswoman +is hurt, but not deadly.’</p> +<p>The Alderman’s face changed, and he said: ‘Hast thou +seen her, Bow-may?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ she said. ‘How should I leave the +battle? but others have told me who have seen her.’</p> +<p>Folk-might stared into the ranks of men before him, but said nothing. +Said the Alderman: ‘Is she well tended?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, surely,’ said Bow-may, ‘since she is amongst +friends, and there are no foemen behind us.’</p> +<p>Then came a voice from Folk-might which said: ‘Now were it +best to send good men and deft in arms, and who know Silver-dale, from +house to house, to search for foemen who may be lurking there.’</p> +<p>The Alderman looked kindly and sadly on him and said:</p> +<p>‘Kinsman Stone-face, and Hall-face my son, the brunt of the +battle is now over, and I am but a simple man amongst you; therefore, +if ye will give me leave, I will go see this poor kinswoman of ours, +and comfort her.’</p> +<p>They bade him go: so he sheathed his sword, and went through the +press with two men of the Steer toward the southern road; for the Bride +had been brought into a house nigh the corner of the Market-place.</p> +<p>But Face-of-god looked after his father as he went, and remembrance +of past days came upon him, and such a storm of grief swept over him, +as he thought of the Bride lying pale and bleeding and brought anigh +to her death, that he put his hands to his face and wept as a child +that will not be comforted; nor had he any shame of all those bystanders, +who in sooth were men good and kindly, and had no shame of his grief +or marvelled at it, for indeed their own hearts were sore for their +lovely kinswoman, and many of them also wept with Face-of-god. +But the Sun-beam stood by and looked on her betrothed, and she thought +many things of the Bride, and was sorry, albeit no tears came into her +eyes; then she looked askance at Folk-might and trembled; but he said +coldly, and in a loud voice:</p> +<p>‘Needs must we search the houses for the lurking felons, or +many a man will yet be murdered. Let Wood-wicked lead a band of +men at once from house to house.’</p> +<p>Then said a man of the Wolf hight Hardgrip: ‘Wood-wicked was +slain betwixt the bent and the houses.’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘Let it be Wood-wise then.’</p> +<p>But Bow-may said: ‘Wood-wise is even now hurt in the leg by +a wounded felon, and may not go afoot.’</p> +<p>Then said Folk-might: ‘Is Crow the Shaft-speeder anigh?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, here am I,’ quoth a tall man of fifty winters, +coming from out the ranks where stood the Wolves.</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘Kinsman Crow, do thou take two score and +ten of doughty men who are not too hot-headed, and search every house +about the Market-place; but if ye come on any house that makes a stout +defence, send ye word thereof to the Mote-house, where we will presently +be, and we shall send you help. Slay every felon that ye fall +in with; but if ye find in the houses any of the poor folk crouching +and afraid, comfort their hearts all ye may, and tell them that now +is life come to them.’</p> +<p>So Crow fell to getting his band together, and presently departed +with them on his errand.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVII. THE KINDREDS WIN THE MOTE-HOUSE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>The din and tumult still came from the north side of the Market-place, +so that all the air was full of noise; and Face-of-god deemed that the +thralls had gotten weapons into their hands and were slaying their masters.</p> +<p>Now he lifted up his face, and put his hand on Folk-might’s +shoulder, and said in a loud voice:</p> +<p>‘Kinsmen, it were well if our brother were to bid the banners +into the Mote-house of the Wolf, and let all the Host set itself in +array before the said house, and abide till the chasers of the foe come +to us thither; for I perceive that they are now become many, and are +more than those of our kindred.’</p> +<p>Then Folk-might looked at him with kind eyes, and said:</p> +<p>‘Thou sayest well, brother; even so let it be!’</p> +<p>And he lifted up his sword, and Face-of-god cried out in a loud voice: +‘Forward, banners! blow up horns! fare we forth with victory!’</p> +<p>So the Host drew its ranks together in good order, and they all set +forward, and old Stone-face took the Sun-beam by the hand and led on +behind Folk-might and the War-leader. But when they came to the +Hall, then saw they how the steps that led up to the door were high +and double, going up from each side without any railing or fool-guard; +and crowding the stairs and the platform thereof was a band of the Dusky +Men, as many as could stand thereon, who shot arrows at the host of +the kindreds, howling like dogs, and chattering like apes; and arrows +and spears came from the windows of the Hall; yea, and on the very roof +a score of these felons were riding the ridge and mocking like the trolls +of old days.</p> +<p>Now when they saw this they stayed a while, and men shielded them +against the shafts; but the leaders drew together in front of the Host, +and Folk-might fell to speech; and his face was very pale and stern; +for now he had had time to think of the case of the Bride, and fierce +wrath, and grief unholpen filled his soul. So he said:</p> +<p>‘Brothers, this is my business to deal with; for I see before +me the stair that leadeth to the Mote-house of my people, and now would +I sit there whereas my fathers sat, when peace was on the Dale, as once +more it shall be to-morrow. Therefore up this stair will I go, +and none shall hinder me; and let no man of the host follow me till +I have entered into the Hall, unless perchance I fall dead by the way; +but stand ye still and look on.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said Face-of-god, ‘this is partly the business +of the War-leader. There are two stairs. Be content to take +the southern one, and I will take the northern. We shall meet +on the plain stone at the top.’</p> +<p>But Hall-face said: ‘War-leader, may I speak?’</p> +<p>‘Speak, brother,’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>Said Hall-face: ‘I have done but little to-day, War-leader. +I would stand by thee on the northern stair; so shall Folk-might be +content, if he doeth two men’s work who are not little-hearted.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘The doom of the War-leader is that Folk-might +shall fall on by the southern stair to slake his grief and increase +his glory, and Face-of-god and Hall-face by the northern. Haste +to the work, O brothers!’</p> +<p>And he and Hall-face went to their places, while all looked on. +But the Sun-beam, with her hand still in Stone-face’s, she turned +white to the lips, and stared with wild eyes before her, not knowing +where she was; for she had deemed that the battle was over, and Face-of-god +saved from it.</p> +<p>But Folk-might tossed up his head and laughed, and cried out, ‘At +last, at last!’ And his sword was in his hand, the Sleep-thorn +to wit, a blade of ancient fame; so now he let it fall and hang to his +wrist by the leash, while he clapped his hands together and uttered +the Wolf-whoop mightily, and all the men of the Wolf that were in the +host, and the Woodlanders withal, uttered it with him. Then he +put his shield over his head and stood before the first of the steps, +and the Dusky Men laughed to see one man come against them, though there +was death in their hearts. But he laughed back at them in triumph, +and set his foot on the step, and let Sleep-thorn’s point go into +the throat of a Dusky lord, and thrust amongst them, hewing right and +left, and tumbling men over the edge of the stair, which was to them +as the narrow path along the cliff-side that hangeth over the unfathomed +sea. They hewed and thrust at him in turn; but so close were they +packed that their weapons crossed about him, and one shielded him from +the other, and they swayed staggering on that fearful verge, while the +Sleep-thorn crept here and there amongst them, lulling their hot fury. +For, as desperate as they were, and fighting for death and not for life, +they had a horror of him and of the sea of hatred below them, and feared +where to set their feet, and he feared nought at all, but from feet +to sword-point was but an engine of slaughter, while the heart within +him throbbed with fury long held back as he thought upon the Bride and +her wounding, and all the wrongs of his people since their Great Undoing.</p> +<p>So he smote and thrust, till him-seemed the throng of foes thinned +before him: with his sword-pommel he smote a lord of the Dusky Ones +in the face, so that he fell over the edge amongst the spears of the +kindred; then he thrust the point of Sleep-thorn towards the Hall-door +through the breast of another, and then it seemed to him that he had +but one before him; so he hove up the edges to cleave him down, but +ere the stroke fell, close to his ears exceeding loud rang out the cry, +‘For the Burg and the Face! for the Face, for the Face!’ +and he drew aback a little, and his eyes cleared, and lo! it was Hall-face +the tall, his long sword all reddened with battle; and beside him stood +Face-of-god, silent and panting, his face pale with the fierce anger +of the fight, and the weariness which was now at last gaining upon him. +There stood those three with no other living man upon the plain of the +stairs.</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god turned shouting to the Folk, and cried:</p> +<p>‘Forth now with the banners! For now is the Wolf come +home. On into the Hall, O Kindred of the Gods!’</p> +<p>Then poured the Folk up over the stairs and into the Hall of the +Wolf, the banners flapping over their heads; and first went the War-leader +and Folk-might and Hall-face, and then the three delivered thralls, +Wolf-stone, God-swain, and Spear-fist, and Dallach with them, though +both he and Wolf-stone had been hurt in the battle; and then came blended +together the Men of the Face along with them of the Wolf who had entered +the Market-stead with them, and with these were Stone-face and Wood-wont +and Bow-may, leading the Sun-beam betwixt them; and now was she come +to herself again, though her face was yet pale, and her eyes gleamed +as she stepped across the threshold of the Hall.</p> +<p>But when a many were gotten in, and the first-comers had had time +to handle their weapons and look about them, a cry of the utmost wrath +broke from Folk-might and those others who remembered the Hall from +of old. For wretched and befouled was that well-builded house: +the hangings rent away; the goodly painted walls daubed and smeared +with wicked tokens of the Alien murderers: the floor, once bright with +polished stones of the mountain, and strewn with sweet-smelling flowers, +was now as foul as the den of the man-devouring troll of the heaths. +From the fair-carven roof of oak and chestnut-beams hung ugly knots +of rags and shapeless images of the sorcery of the Dusky Men. +And furthermore, and above all, from the last tie-beam of the roof over +the daïs dangled four shapes of men-at-arms, whom the older men +of the Wolf knew at once for the embalmed bodies of their four great +chieftains, who had been slain on the day of the Great Undoing; and +they cried out with horror and rage as they saw them hanging there in +their weapons as they had lived.</p> +<p>There was the Hostage of the Earth, his shield painted with the green +world circled with the worm of the sea. There was the older Folk-might, +the uncle of the living man, bearing a shield with an oak and a lion +done thereon. There was Wealth-eker, on whose shield was done +a golden sheaf of wheat. There was he who bore a name great from +of old, Folk-wolf to wit, bearing on his shield the axe of the hewer. +There they hung, dusty, befouled, with sightless eyes and grinning mouths, +in the dimmed sunlight of the Hall, before the eyes of that victorious +Host, stricken silent at the sight of them.</p> +<p>Underneath them on the daïs stood the last remnant of the battle +of the Dusky Men; and they, as men mad with coming death, shook their +weapons, and with shrieking laughter mocked at the overcomers, and pointed +to the long-dead chiefs, and called on them in the tongue of the kindreds +to come down and lead their dear kinsmen to the high-seat; and then +they cried out to the living warriors of the Wolf, and bade them better +their deed of slaying, and set to work to make alive again, and cause +their kinsmen to live merry on the earth.</p> +<p>With that last mock they handled their weapons and rushed howling +on the warriors to meet their death; nor was it long denied them; for +the sword of the Wolf, the axe of the Woodland, and the spear of the +Dale soon made an end of the dreadful lives of these destroyers of the +Folks.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVIII. MEN SING IN THE MOTE-HOUSE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Then strode the Warriors of the Wolf over the bodies of the slain +on to the daïs of their own Hall; and Folk-might led the Sun-beam +by the hand, and now was his sword in its sheath, and his face was grown +calm, though it was stern and sad. But even as he trod the daïs +comes a slim swain of the Wolves twisting himself through the throng, +and so maketh way to Folk-might, and saith to him:</p> +<p>‘Chieftain, the Alderman of Burgdale sendeth me hither to say +a word to thee; even this, which I am to tell to thee and the War-leader +both: It is most true that our kinswoman the Bride will not die, but +live. So help me, the Warrior and the Face! This is the +word of the Alderman.’</p> +<p>When Folk-might heard this, his face changed and he hung his head; +and Face-of-god, who was standing close by, beheld him and deemed that +tears were falling from his eyes on to the hall-floor. As for +him, he grew exceeding glad, and he turned to the Sun-beam and met her +eyes, and saw that she could scarce refrain her longing for him; and +he was abashed for the sweetness of his love. But she drew close +up to him, and spake to him softly and said:</p> +<p>‘This is the day that maketh amends; and yet I long for another +day. When I saw thee coming to me that first day in Shadowy Vale, +I thought thee so goodly a warrior that my heart was in my mouth. +But now how goodly thou art! For the battle is over, and we shall +live.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Face-of-god, ‘and none shall begrudge +us our love. Behold thy brother, the hard-heart, the warrior; +he weepeth because he hath heard that the Bride shall live. Be +sure then that she shall not gainsay him. O fair shall the world +be to-morrow!’</p> +<p>But she said: ‘O Gold-mane, I have no words. Is there +no minstrelsy amongst us?’</p> +<p>Now by this time were many of the men of the Wolf and the Woodlanders +gathered on the daïs of the Hall; and the Dalesmen noting this, +and wotting that these men were now in their own Mote-house, withdrew +them as they might for the press toward the nether end thereof. +That the Sun-beam noted, and that all those about her save the War-leader +were of the kindreds of the Wolf and the Woodland, and, still speaking +softly, she said to Face-of-god:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane, meseemeth I am now in my wrong place; for now the +Wolf raiseth up his head, but I am departing from him. Surely +I should now be standing amongst my people of the Face, whereto I am +going ere long.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘Beloved, I am now become thy kindred and thine home, +and it is meet for thee to stand beside me.’</p> +<p>She cast her eyes adown and answered not; and she fell a-pondering +of how sorely she had desired that fair dale, and now she would leave +it, and be content and more than content.</p> +<p>But now the kindreds had sundered, they upon the daïs ranked +themselves together there in the House which their fathers had builded; +and when they saw themselves so meetly ordered, their hearts being full +with the sweetness of hope accomplished and the joy of deliverance from +death, song arose amongst them, and they fell to singing together; and +this is somewhat of their singing:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p> Now raise we the lay<br /> Of +the long-coming day!<br /> Bright, white was the sun<br /> When +we saw it begun:<br /> O’er its noon now we live;<br /> It +hath ceased not to give;<br /> It shall give, and give +more<br /> From the wealth of its store.<br />O fair +was the yesterday! Kindly and good<br />Was the wasteland our +guester, and kind was the wood;<br />Though below us for reaping lay +under our hand<br />The harvest of weeping, the grief of the land;<br />Dumb +cowered the sorrow, nought daring to cry<br />On the help of to-morrow, +the deed drawing nigh.</p> +<p> All increase throve<br /> In the +Dale of our love;<br /> There the ox and the steed<br /> Fed +down the mead;<br /> The grapes hung high<br /> ’Twixt +earth and sky,<br /> And the apples fell<br /> Round +the orchard well.<br />Yet drear was the land there, and all was for +nought;<br />None put forth a hand there for what the year wrought,<br />And +raised it o’erflowing with gifts of the earth.<br />For man’s +grief was growing beside of the mirth<br />Of the springs and the summers +that wasted their wealth;<br />And the birds, the new-comers, made merry +by stealth.</p> +<p> Yet here of old<br /> Abode the +bold;<br /> Nor had they wailed<br /> Though +the wheat had failed,<br /> And the vine no more<br /> Gave +forth her store.<br /> Yea, they found the waste good<br /> For +the fearless of mood.<br />Then to these, that were dwelling aloof from +the Dale,<br />Fared the wild-wind a-telling the worst of the tale;<br />As +men bathed in the morning they saw in the pool<br />The image of scorning, +the throne of the fool.<br />The picture was gleaming in helm and in +sword,<br />And shone forth its seeming from cups of the board.</p> +<p> Forth then they came<br /> With +the battle-flame;<br /> From the Wood and the Waste<br /> And +the Dale did they haste:<br /> They saw the storm rise,<br /> And +with untroubled eyes<br /> The war-storm they met;<br /> And +the rain ruddy-wet.<br />O’er the Dale then was litten the Candle +of Day,<br />Night-sorrow was smitten, and gloom fled away.<br />How +the grief-shackles sunder! How many to morn<br />Shall awaken +and wonder how gladness was born!<br />O wont unto sorrow, how sweet +unto you<br />Shall be pondering to-morrow what deed is to do!</p> +<p> Fell many a man<br /> ’Neath +the edges wan,<br /> In the heat of the play<br /> That +fashioned the day.<br /> Praise all ye then<br /> The +death of men,<br /> And the gift of the aid<br /> Of +the unafraid!<br />O strong are the living men mighty to save,<br />And +good is their giving, and gifts that we have!<br />But the dead, they +that gave us once, never again;<br />Long and long shall they save us +sore trouble and pain.<br />O Banner above us, O God of the strong,<br />Love +them as ye love us that bore down our wrong!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>So they sang in the Hall; and there was many a man wept, as the song +ended, for those that should never see the good days of the Dale, and +all the joy that was to be; and men swore, by all that they loved, that +they would never forget those that had fallen in the Winning of Silver-dale; +and that when each year the Cups of Memory went round, they should be +no mere names to them, but the very men whom they had known and loved.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLIX. DALLACH FARETH TO ROSE-DALE: CROW TELLETH OF +HIS ERRAND: THE KINDREDS EAT THEIR MEAT IN SILVER-DALE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Now Dallach, who had gone away for a while, came back again into +the Hall; and at his back were a half score of men who bore ladders +with them: they were stout men, clad in scanty and ragged raiment, but +girt with swords and bearing axes, those of them who were not handling +the ladders. Men looked on them curiously, because they saw them +to be of the roughest of the thralls. They were sullen and fierce-eyed +to behold, and their hands and bare arms were flecked with blood; and +it was easy to see that they had been chasing the fleers, and making +them pay for their many torments of past days.</p> +<p>But when Face-of-god beheld this he cried out: ‘Ho, Dallach! +is it so that thou hast bethought thee to bring in hither men to fall +to the cleansing of the Hall, and to do away the defiling of the Dusky +Men?’</p> +<p>‘Even so, War-leader,’ said Dallach; ‘also ye shall +know that all battle is over in Silver-stead; for the thralls fell in +numbers not to be endured on the Dusky Men who had turned their backs +to us, and hindered them from fleeing north. But though they have +slain many, they have not slain all, and the remnant have fled by divers +ways westaway, that they may gain the wood and the ways to Rose-dale; +and the stoutest of the thralls are at their heels, and ever as they +go fresh men from the fields join in the chase with great joy. +I have gathered together of the best of them two hundreds and a half +well-armed; and if thou wilt give me leave, I will get to me yet more, +and follow hard on the fleers, and so get me home to Rose-dale; for +thither will these runaways to meet whatso of their kind may be left +there. Also I would fain be there to set some order amongst the +poor folk of mine own people, whom this day’s work hath delivered +from torment. And if thou wilt suffer a few men of the Dalesmen +to come along with me, then shall all things be better done there.’</p> +<p>‘Luck go with thine hands!’ said Face-of-god. ‘Take +whomso thou wilt of the Burgdalers that have a mind to fare with thee +to the number of five score; and send word of thy thriving to Folk-might, +the chieftain of the Dale; as for us, meseemeth that we shall abide +here no long while. How sayest thou, Folk-might, shall Dallach +go?’</p> +<p>Then Folk-might, who stood close beside him, looked up and reddened +somewhat, as a man caught heedless when he should be heedful; but he +looked kindly on Face-of-god, and said:</p> +<p>‘War-leader, so long as thou art in the Dale which ye kindreds +have won back for us, thou art the chieftain, and no other, and I bid +thee do as thou wilt in this matter, and in all things; and I hereby +give command to all my kindred to do according to thy will everywhere +and always, as they love me; and indeed I deem that thy will shall be +theirs; since it is only fools who know not their well-wishers. +How say ye, kinsmen?’</p> +<p>Then those about cried out: ‘Hail to Face-of-god! Hail +to the Dalesmen! Hail to our friends!’</p> +<p>But Folk-might went up to Face-of-god, and threw his arms about him +and kissed him, and he said therewithal, so that most men heard him:</p> +<p>‘Herewith I kiss not only thee, thou goodly and glorious warrior! +but this kiss and embrace is for all the men of the kindreds of the +Dale and the Shepherds; since I deem that never have men more valiant +dwelt upon the earth.’</p> +<p>Therewith all men shouted for joy of him, and were exceeding glad; +but Folk-might spake apart to Face-of-god and said:</p> +<p>‘Brother, I suppose that thou wilt deem it good to abide in +this Hall or anigh it; for hereabouts now is the heart of the Host. +But as for me, I would have leave to depart for a little; since I have +an errand, whereof thou mayest wot.’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god smiled on him, and said: ‘Go, and all good +go with thee; and tell my father that I would have tidings, since I +may not be there.’ So he spake; yet in his heart was he +glad that he might not go to behold the Bride lying sick and sorry. +But Folk-might departed without more words; and in the door of the Hall +he met Crow the Shaft-speeder, who would have spoken to him, and given +him the tidings; but Folk-might said to him: ‘Do thine errand +to the War-leader, who is within the Hall.’ And so went +on his way.</p> +<p>Then came Crow up the Hall, and stood before Face-of-god and said: +‘War-leader, we have done that which was to be done, and have +cleared all the houses about the Market-stead. Moreover, by the +rede of Dallach we have set certain men of the poor folk of the Dale, +who are well looked to by the others, to the burying of the slain felons; +and they be digging trenches in the fields on the north side of the +Market-stead, and carry the carcasses thither as they may. But +the slain whom they find of the kindreds do they array out yonder before +this Hall. In all wise are these men tame and biddable, save that +they rage against the Dusky Men, though they fear them yet. As +for us, they deem us Gods come down from heaven to help them. +So much for what is good: now have I an ill word to say; to wit, that +in the houses whereas we have found many thralls alive, yet also have +we found many dead; for amongst these murder-carles were some of an +evil sort, who, when they saw that the battle would go against them, +rushed into the houses hewing down all before them - man, woman, and +child; so that many of the halls and chambers we saw running blood like +to shambles. To be short: of them whom they were going to hew +to the Gods, we have found thirteen living and three dead, of which +latter is one woman; and of the living, seven women; and all these, +living and dead, with the leaden shackles yet on them wherein they should +be burned. To all these and others whom we have found, we have +done what of service we could in the way of victual and clothes, so +that they scarce believe that they are on this lower earth. Moreover, +I have with me two score of them, who are men of some wits, and who +know of the stores of victual and other wares which the felons had, +and these will fetch and carry for you as much as ye will. Is +all done rightly, War-leader?’</p> +<p>‘Right well,’ said Face-of-god, ‘and we give thee +our thanks therefor. And now it were well if these thy folk were +to dight our dinner for us in some green field the nighest that may +be, and thither shall all the Host be bidden by sound of horn. +Meantime, let us void this Hall till it be cleansed of the filth of +the Dusky Ones; but hereafter shall we come again to it, and light a +fire on the Holy Hearth, and bid the Gods and the Fathers come back +and behold their children sitting glad in the ancient Hall.’</p> +<p>Then men shouted and were exceeding joyous; but Face-of-god said +once more: ‘Bear ye a bench out into the Market-place over against +the door of this Hall: thereon will I sit with other chieftains of the +kindreds, that whoso will may have recourse to us.’</p> +<p>So therewith all the men of the kindreds made their ways out of the +Hall and into the Market-stead, which was by this time much cleared +of the slaughtered felons; and the bale for the burnt-offering was now +but smouldering, and a thin column of blue smoke was going up wavering +amidst the light airs of the afternoon. Men were somewhat silent +now; for they were stiff and weary with the morning’s battle; +and a many had been hurt withal; and on many there yet rested the after-grief +of battle, and sorrow for the loss of friends and well-wishers.</p> +<p>For in the battle had fallen one long hundred and two of the men +of the Host; and of these were two score and five of the kindreds of +the Steer, the Bull, and the Bridge, who had made such valiant onslaught +by the southern road. Of the Shepherds died one score save three; +for though they scattered the foe at once, yet they fell on with such +headlong valour, rather than wisely, that many were trapped in the throng +of the Dusky Men. Of the Woodlanders were slain one score and +nine; for hard had been the fight about them, and no man of them spared +himself one whit. Of the men of the Wolf, who were but a few, +fell sixteen men, and all save two of these in Face-of-god’s battle. +Of the Burgdale men whom Folk-might led, to wit, them of the Face, the +Vine, and the Sickle, were but seven men slain outright. In this +tale are told all those who died of their hurts after the day of battle. +Therewithal many others were sorely hurt who mended, and went about +afterwards hale and hearty.</p> +<p>So as the folk abode in the Market-place, somewhat faint and weary, +they heard horns blow up merrily, and Crow the Shaft-speeder came forth +and stood on the mound of the altar, and bade men fare to dinner, and +therewith he led the way, bearing in his hand the banner of the Golden +Bushel, of which House he was; and they followed him into a fair and +great mead on the southwest of Silver-stead, besprinkled about with +ancient trees of sweet chestnut. There they found the boards spread +for them with the best of victual which the poor down-trodden folk knew +how to dight for them; and especially was there great plenty of good +wine of the sun-smitten bents.</p> +<p>So they fell to their meat, and the poor folk, both men and women, +served them gladly, though they were somewhat afeard of these fierce +sword-wielders, the Gods who had delivered them. The said thralls +were mostly not of those who had fallen so bitterly on their fleeing +masters, but were men and women of the households, not so roughly treated +as the others, that is to say, those who had been wont to toil under +the lash in the fields and the silver-mines, and were as wild as they +durst be.</p> +<p>As for these waiting-thralls, the men of the kindreds were gentle +and blithe with them, and often as they served them would they stay +their hands (and especially if they were women), and would draw down +their heads to put a morsel in their mouths, or set the wine-cup to +their lips; and they would stroke them and caress them, and treat them +in all wise as their dear friends. Moreover, when any man was +full, he would arise and take hold of one of the thralls, and set him +in his place, and serve him with meat and drink, and talk with him kindly, +so that the poor folk were much bewildered with joy. And the first +that arose from table were the Sun-beam and Bow-may and Hall-face, with +many of the swains and the women of the Woodlanders; and they went from +table to table serving the others.</p> +<p>The Sun-beam had done off her armour, and went about exceeding fair +and lovely in her kirtle; but Bow-may yet bore her hauberk, for she +loved it, and indeed it was so fine and well-wrought that it was no +great burden. Albeit she had gone down with the Sun-beam and other +women to a fair stream thereby, and there had they bathed and washed +themselves; and Bow-may’s hurts, which were not great, had been +looked to and bound up afresh, and she had come to table unhelmed, with +a wreath of wind-flowers round her head.</p> +<p>There then they feasted; and their hearts were strengthened by the +meat and drink; and if sorrow were blended with their joy, yet were +they high-hearted through both joy and sorrow, looking forward to the +good days to be in the Dales at the Roots of the Mountains, and the +love and fellowship of Folks and of Houses.</p> +<p>But as for Face-of-god, he went not to the meadow, but abode sitting +on the bench in the Market-place, where were none else now of the kindreds +save the appointed warders. They had brought him a morsel and +a cup of wine, and he had eaten and drunk; and now he sat there with +Dale-warden lying sheathed across his knees, and seeming to gaze on +the thralls of Silver-dale busied in carrying away the bodies of the +slain felons, after they had stripped them of their raiment and weapons. +Yet indeed all this was before his eyes as a picture which he noted +not. Rather he sat pondering many things; wondering at his being +there in Silver-dale in the hour of victory; longing for the peace of +Burgdale and the bride-chamber of the Sun-beam. Then went his +thought out toward his old playmate lying hurt in Silver-dale; and his +heart was grieved because of her, yet not for long, though his thought +still dwelt on her; since he deemed that she would live and presently +be happy - and happy thenceforward for many years. So pondered +Face-of-god in the Market-place of Silver-dale.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER L. FOLK-MIGHT SEETH THE BRIDE AND SPEAKETH WITH HER</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Now tells the tale of Folk-might, that he went his ways from the +Hall to the house where the Bride lay; and the swain who had brought +the message went along with him, and he was proud of walking beside +so mighty a warrior, and he talked to Folk-might as they went; and the +sound of his voice was irksome to the chieftain, but he made as though +he hearkened. Yet when they came to the door of the house, which +was just out of the Place on the Southern road (for thereby had the +Bride fallen to earth), he could withhold his grief no longer, but turned +on the threshold and laid his head on the door-jamb, and sobbed and +wept till the tears fell down like rain. And the boy stood by +wondering, and wishing that Folk-might would forbear weeping, but durst +not speak to him.</p> +<p>In a while Folk-might left weeping and went in, and found a fair +hall sore befouled by the felons, and in the corner on a bed covered +with furs the wounded woman; and at first sight he deemed her not so +pale as he looked to see her, as she lay with her long dark-red hair +strewed over the pillow, her head moving about wearily. A linen +cloth was thrown over her body, but her arms lay out of it before her. +Beside her sat the Alderman, his face sober enough, but not as one in +heavy sorrow; and anigh him was another chair as if someone had but +just got up from it. There was no one else in the hall save two +women of the Woodlanders, one of whom was cooking some potion on the +hearth, and another was sweeping the floor anigh of bran or some such +stuff, which had been thrown down to sop up the blood.</p> +<p>So Folk-might went up to the Bride, sorely dreading the image of +death which she had grown to be, and sorely loving the woman she was +and would be.</p> +<p>He knelt down by the bedside, heeding Iron-face little, though he +nodded friendly to him, and he held his face close to hers; but she +had her eyes shut and did not open them till he had been there a little +while; and then they opened and fixed themselves on his without surprise +or change. Then she lifted her right hand (for it was in her left +shoulder and side that she had been hurt) and slowly laid it on his +head, and drew his face to hers and kissed it fondly, as she both smiled +and let the tears run over from her eyes. Then she spake in a +weak voice:</p> +<p>‘Thou seest, chieftain and dear friend, that I may not stand +by thy victorious side to-day. And now, though I were fain if +thou wouldst never leave me, yet needs must thou go about thy work, +since thou art become the Alderman of the Folk of Silver-dale. +Yea, and even if thou wert not to go from me, yet in a manner should +I go from thee. For I am grievously hurt, and I know by myself, +and also the leeches have told me, that the fever is a-coming on me; +so that presently I shall not know thee, but may deem thee to be a woman, +or a hound, or the very Wolf that is the image of the Father of thy +kindred; or even, it may be, someone else - that I have played with +time agone.’</p> +<p>Her voice faltered and faded out here, and she was silent a while; +then she said:</p> +<p>‘So depart, kind friend and dear love, bearing this word with +thee, that should I die, I call on Iron-face my kinsman to bear witness +that I bid thee carry me to bale in Silver-dale, and lay mine ashes +with the ashes of thy Fathers, with whom thine own shall mingle at the +last, since I have been of the warriors who have helped to bring thee +aback to the land of thy folk.’</p> +<p>Then she smiled and shut her eyes and said: ‘And if I live, +as indeed I hope, and how glad and glad I shall be to live, then shalt +thou bring me to thy house and thy bed, that I may not depart from thee +while both our lives last.’</p> +<p>And she opened her eyes and looked at him; and he might not speak +for a while, so ravished as he was betwixt joy and sorrow. But +the Alderman arose and took a gold ring from off his arm, and spake:</p> +<p>‘This is the gold ring of the God of the Face, and I bear it +on mine arm betwixt the Folk and the God in all man-motes, and I bore +it through the battle to-day; and it is as holy a ring as may be; and +since ye are plighting troth, and I am the witness thereof, it were +good that ye held this ring together and called the God to witness, +who is akin to the God of the Earth, as we all be. Take the ring, +Folk-might, for I trust thee; and of all women now alive would I have +this woman happy.’</p> +<p>So Folk-might took the ring and thrust his hand through it, and took +her hand, and said:</p> +<p>‘Ye Fathers, thou God of the Face, thou Earth-god, thou Warrior, +bear witness that my life and my body are plighted to this woman, the +Bride of the House of the Steer!’</p> +<p>His face was flushed and bright as he spoke, but as his words ceased +he noted how feebly her hand lay in his, and his face fell, and he gazed +on her timidly. But she lay quiet, and said softly and slowly:</p> +<p>‘O Fathers of my kindred! O Warrior and God of the Earth! +bear witness that I plight my troth to this man, to lie in his grave +if I die, and in his bed if I live.’</p> +<p>And she smiled on him again, and then closed her eyes; but opened +them presently once more, and said:</p> +<p>‘Dear friend, how fared it with Gold-mane to-day?’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘So well he did, that none might have done +better. He fared in the fight as if he had been our Father the +Warrior: he is a great chieftain.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘Wilt thou give him this message from me, that in +no wise he forget the oath which he swore upon the finger-ring as it +lay on the sundial of the Garden of the Face? And say, moreover, +that I am sorry that we shall part, and have between us such breadth +of wild-wood and mountain-neck.’</p> +<p>‘Yea, surely will I give thy message,’ said Folk-might; +and in his heart he rejoiced, because he heard her speak as if she were +sure of life. Then she said faintly:</p> +<p>‘It is now thy work to depart from me, and to do as it behoveth +a chieftain of the people and the Alderman of Silver-dale. Depart, +lest the leeches chide me: farewell, my dear!’</p> +<p>So he laid his face to hers and kissed her, and rose up and embraced +Iron-face, and went his ways without looking back.</p> +<p>But just over the threshold he met old Hall-ward of the House of +the Steer, who was at point to enter, and he greeted him kindly. +The old man looked on him steadily, and said: ‘To-morrow or the +day after I will utter a word to thee, O Chief of the Wolf.’</p> +<p>‘In a good hour,’ said Folk-might, ‘for all thy +words are true.’ Therewith he gat him away from the house, +and came to Face-of-god, where he sat before the altar of the Crooked +Sword; and now were the chiefs come back from their meat, and were sitting +with him; there also were Wood-father and Wood-wont; but Bow-may was +with the Sun-beam, who was resting softly in the fair meadow after all +the turmoil.</p> +<p>So men made place for Folk-might beside the War-leader, who looked +upon his face, and saw that it was sober and unsmiling, but not heavy +or moody with grief. So he deemed that all was as well as it might +be with the Bride, and with a good heart fell to taking counsel with +the others; and kindly and friendly were the redes which they held there, +with no gainsaying of man by man, for the whole folk was glad at heart.</p> +<p>So there they ordered all matters duly for that present time, and +by then they had made an end, it was past sunset, and men were lodged +in the chief houses about the Market-stead.</p> +<p>Albeit, though they ate their meat with all joy of heart, and were +merry in converse one with the other, the men of the Wolf would by no +means feast in their Hall again till it had been cleansed and hallowed +anew.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER LI. THE DEAD BORNE TO BALE: THE MOTE-HOUSE RE-HALLOWED</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>On the morrow they bore to bale their slain men, and there withal +what was left of the bodies of the four chieftains of the Great Undoing. +They brought them into a most fair meadow to the west of Silver-stead, +where they had piled up a very great bale for the burning. In +that meadow was the Doom-ring and Thing-stead of the Folk of the Wolf, +and they had hallowed it when they had first conquered Silver-dale, +and it was deemed far holier than the Mote-house aforesaid, wherein +the men of the kindred might hold no due court; but rather it was a +Feast-hall, and a house where men had converse together, and wherein +precious things and tokens of the Fathers were stored up.</p> +<p>The Thing-stead in the meadow was flowery and well-grassed, and a +little stream winding about thereby nearly cast a ring around it; and +beyond the stream was a full fair grove of oak-trees, very tall and +ancient. There then they burned the dead of the Host, wrapped +about in exceeding fair raiment. And when the ashes were gathered, +the men of Burgdale and the Shepherds left those of their folk for the +kindred to bury there in Silver-dale; for they said that they had a +right to claim such guesting for them that had helped to win back the +Dale.</p> +<p>But when the Burning was done and the bale quenched, and the ashes +gathered and buried (and that was on the morrow), then men bore forth +the Banners of the Jaws of the Wolf, and the Red Hand, and the Silver +Arm, and the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged Sword, and the Wolf of the +Woodland; and with great joy and triumph they brought them into the +Mote-house and hung them up over the daïs; and they kindled fire +on the Holy Hearth by holding up a disk of bright glass to the sun; +and then they sang before the banners. And this is somewhat of +the song that they sang before them:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Why are ye wending? O whence and whither?<br /> What +shineth over the fallow swords?<br />What is the joy that ye bear in +hither?<br /> What is the tale of your blended words?</p> +<p>No whither we wend, but here have we stayed us,<br /> Here +by the ancient Holy Hearth;<br />Long have the moons and the years delayed +us,<br /> But here are we come from the heart of the +dearth.</p> +<p>We are the men of joy belated;<br /> We are the +wanderers over the waste;<br />We are but they that sat and waited,<br /> Watching +the empty winds make haste.</p> +<p>Long, long we sat and knew no others,<br /> Save +alien folk and the foes of the road;<br />Till late and at last we met +our brothers,<br /> And needs must we to the old abode.</p> +<p>For once on a day they prayed for guesting;<br /> And +how were we then their bede to do?<br />Wild was the waste for the people’s +resting,<br /> And deep the wealth of the Dale we knew.</p> +<p>Here were the boards that we must spread them<br /> Down +in the fruitful Dale and dear;<br />Here were the halls where we would +bed them:<br /> And how should we tarry otherwhere?</p> +<p>Over the waste we came together:<br /> There was +the tangle athwart the way;<br />There was the wind-storm and the weather;<br /> The +red rain darkened down the day.</p> +<p>But that day of the days what grief should let us,<br /> When +we saw through the clouds the dale-glad sun?<br />We tore at the tangle +that beset us,<br /> And stood at peace when the day +was done.</p> +<p>Hall of the Happy, take our greeting!<br /> Bid +thou the Fathers come and see<br />The Folk-signs on thy walls a-meeting,<br /> And +deem to-day what men we be.</p> +<p>Look on the Holy Hearth new-litten,<br /> How the +sparks fly twinkling up aloof!<br />How the wavering smoke by the sunlight +smitten,<br /> Curls up around the beam-rich roof!</p> +<p>For here once more is the Wolf abiding,<br /> Nor +ever more from the Dale shall wend,<br />And never again his head be +hiding,<br /> Till all days be dark and the world have +end.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER LII. OF THE NEW BEGINNING OF GOOD DAYS IN SILVER-DALE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>On the third day there was high-tide and great joy amongst all men +from end to end of the Dale; and the delivered thralls were feasted +and made much of by the kindreds, so that they scarce knew how to believe +their own five senses that told them the good tidings.</p> +<p>For none strove to grieve them and torment them; what they would, +that did they, and they had all things plenteously; since for all was +there enough and to spare of goods stored up for the Dusky Men, as corn +and wine and oil and spices, and raiment and silver. Horses were +there also, and neat and sheep and swine in abundance. Withal +there was the good and dear land; the waxing corn on the acres; the +blossoming vines on the hillside; and about the orchards and alongside +the ways, the plum-trees and cherry-trees and pear-trees that had cast +their blossom and were overhung with little young fruit; and the fair +apple-trees a-blossoming, and the chestnuts spreading their boughs from +their twisted trunks over the green grass. And there was the goodly +pasture for the horses and the neat, and the thymy hill-grass for the +sheep; and beyond it all, the thicket of the great wood, with its unfailing +store of goodly timber of ash and oak and holly and yoke-elm. +There need no man lack unless man compelled him, and all was rich enough +and wide enough for the waxing of a very great folk.</p> +<p>Now, therefore, men betook them to what was their own before the +coming of the Dusky Men; and though at first many of the delivered thrall-folk +feasted somewhat above measure, and though there were some of them who +were not very brisk at working on the earth for their livelihood; yet +were the most part of them quick of wit and deft of hand, and they mostly +fell to presently at their cunning, both of husbandry and handicraft. +Moreover, they had great love of the kindreds, and especially of the +Woodlanders, and strove to do all things that might pleasure them. +And as for those who were dull and listless because of their many torments +of the last ten years, they would at least fetch and carry willingly +for them of the kindreds; and these last grudged them not meat and raiment +and house-room, even if they wrought but little for it, because they +called to mind the evil days of their thralldom, and bethought them +how few are men’s days upon the earth.</p> +<p>Thus all things throve in Silver-dale, and the days wore on toward +the summer, and the Yule-tide rest beyond it, and the years beyond and +far beyond the winning of Silver-dale.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER LIII. OF THE WORD WHICH HALL-WARD OF THE STEER HAD +FOR FOLK-MIGHT</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>But of the time then passing, it is to be said that the whole host +abode in Silver-dale in great mirth and good liking, till they should +hear tidings of Dallach and his company, who had followed hot-foot on +the fleers of the Dusky Men. And on the tenth day after the battle, +Iron-face and his two sons and Stone-face were sitting about sunset +under a great oak-tree by that stream-side which ran through the Mote-stead; +there also was Folk-might, somewhat distraught because of his love for +the Bride, who was now mending of her hurts. As they sat there +in all content they saw folk coming toward them, three in number, and +as they drew nigher they saw that it was old Hall-ward of the Steer, +and the Sun-beam and Bow-may following him hand in hand.</p> +<p>When they came to the brook Bow-may ran up to the elder to help him +over the stepping-stones; which she did as one who loved him, as the +old man was stark enough to have waded the water waist-deep. She +was no longer in her war-gear, but was clad after her wont of Shadowy +Vale, in nought but a white woollen kirtle. So she stood in the +stream beside the stones, and let the swift water ripple up over her +ankles, while the elder leaned on her shoulder and looked down upon +her kindly. The Sun-beam followed after them, stepping daintily +from stone to stone, so that she was a fair sight to see; her face was +smiling and happy, and as she stepped forth on to the green grass the +colour flushed up in it, but she cast her eyes adown as one somewhat +shamefaced.</p> +<p>So the chieftains rose up before the leader of the Steer, and Folk-might +went up to him, and greeted him, and took his hand and kissed him on +the cheek. And Hall-ward said:</p> +<p>‘Hail to the chiefs of the kindred, and my earthly friends!’</p> +<p>Then Folk-might bade him sit down by him, and all the men sat down +again; but the Sun-beam leaned her back against a sapling ash hard by, +her feet set close together; and Bow-may went to and fro in short turns, +keeping well within ear-shot.</p> +<p>Then said Hall-ward: ‘Folk-might, I have prayed thy kinswoman +Bow-may to lead me to thee, that I might speak with thee; and it is +good that I find my kinsmen of the Face in thy company; for I would +say a word to thee that concerns them somewhat.’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘Guest, and warrior of the Steer, thy words +are ever good; and if this time thou comest to ask aught of me, then +shall they be better than good.’</p> +<p>Said Hall-ward: ‘Tell me, Folk-might, hast thou seen my daughter +the Bride to-day?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Folk-might, reddening.</p> +<p>‘What didst thou deem of her state?’ said Hall-ward.</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘Thou knowest thyself that the fever hath +left her, and that she is mending.’</p> +<p>Hall-ward said: ‘In a few days belike we shall be wending home +to Burgdale: when deemest thou that the Bride may travel, if it were +but on a litter?’</p> +<p>Folk-might was silent, and Hall-ward smiled on him and said:</p> +<p>‘Wouldst thou have her tarry, O chief of the Wolf?’</p> +<p>‘So it is,’ said Folk-might, ‘that it might be +labour lost for her to journey to Burgdale at present.’</p> +<p>‘Thinkest thou?’ said Hall-ward; ‘hast thou a mind +then that if she goeth she shall speedily come back hither?’</p> +<p>‘It has been in my mind,’ said Folk-might, ‘that +I should wed her. Wilt thou gainsay it? I pray thee, Iron-face +my friend, and ye Stone-face and Hall-face, and thou, Face-of-god, my +brother, to lay thy words to mine in this matter.’</p> +<p>Then said Hall-ward stroking his beard: ‘There will be a seat +missing in the Hall of the Steer, and a sore lack in the heart of many +a man in Burgdale if the Bride come back to us no more. We looked +not to lose the maiden by her wedding; for it is no long way betwixt +the House of the Steer and the House of the Face. But now, when +I arise in the morning and miss her, I shall take my staff and walk +down the street of Burgstead; for I shall say, The Maiden hath gone +to see Iron-face my friend; she is well in the House of the Face. +And then shall I remember how that the wood and the wastes lie between +us. How sayest thou, Alderman?’</p> +<p>‘A sore lack it will be,’ said Iron-face; ‘but +all good go with her! Though whiles shall I go hatless down Burgstead +street, and say, Now will I go fetch my daughter the Bride from the +House of the Steer; while many a day’s journey shall lie betwixt +us.’</p> +<p>Said Hall-ward: ‘I will not beat about the bush, Folk-might; +what gift wilt thou give us for the maiden?’</p> +<p>Said Folk-might: ‘Whatever is mine shall be thine; and whatsoever +of the Dale the kindred and the poor folk begrudge thee not, that shalt +thou have; and deemest thou that they will begrudge thee aught? +Is it enough?’</p> +<p>Hall-ward said: ‘I wot not, chieftain; see thou to it! +Bow-may, my friend, bring hither that which I would have from Silver-dale +for the House of the Steer in payment for our maiden.’</p> +<p>Then Bow-may came forward speedily, and went up to the Sun-beam, +and led her by the hand in front of Folk-might and Hall-ward and the +other chieftains. Then Folk-might started, and leapt up from the +ground; for, sooth to say, he had been thinking so wholly of the Bride, +that his sister was not in his mind, and he had had no deeming of whither +Hall-ward was coming, though the others guessed well enough, and now +smiled on him merrily, when they saw how wild Folk-might stared. +As for the Sun-beam, she stood there blushing like a rose in June, but +looking her brother straight in the face, as Hall-ward said:</p> +<p>‘Folk-might, chief of the Wolf, since thou wouldst take our +maiden the Bride away from us, I ask thee to make good her place with +this maiden; so that the House of the Steer may not lack, when they +who are wont to wed therein come to us and pray us for a bedfellow for +the best of their kindred.’</p> +<p>Then became Folk-might smiling and merry like unto the others, and +he said: ‘Chief of the Steer, this gift is thine, together with +aught else which thou mayst desire of us.’</p> +<p>Then he kissed the Sun-beam, and said: ‘Sister, we looked for +this to befall in some fashion. Yet we deemed that he that should +lead thee away might abide with us for a moon or two. But now +let all this be, since if thou art not to bear children to the kindreds +of Silver-dale, yet shalt thou bear them to their friends and fellows. +And now choose what gift thou wilt have of us to keep us in thy memory.’</p> +<p>She said: ‘The memory of my people shall not fade from me; +yet indeed I ask thee for a gift, to wit, Bow-may, and the two sons +of Wood-father that are left since Wood-wicked was slain; and belike +the elder and his wife will be fain to go with their sons, and ye will +not hinder them.’</p> +<p>‘Even so shall it be done,’ said Folk-might, and he was +silent a while, pondering; and then he said:</p> +<p>‘Lo you, friends! doth it not seem strange to you that peace +sundereth as well as war? Indeed I deem it grievous that ye shall +have to miss your well-beloved kinswoman. And for me, I am now +grown so used to this woman my sister, though at whiles she hath been +masterful with me, that I shall often turn about and think to speak +to her, when there lie long days of wood and waste betwixt her voice +and mine.</p> +<p>The Sun-beam laughed in his face, though the tears stood in her eyes, +as she said: ‘Keep up thine heart, brother; for at least the way +is shorter betwixt Burgdale and Silver-dale than betwixt life and death; +and the road we shall learn belike.’</p> +<p>Said Hall-face: ‘So it is that my brother is no ill woodman, +as ye learned last autumn.’</p> +<p>Iron-face smiled, but somewhat sadly; for he beheld Face-of-god, +who had no eyes for anyone save the Sun-beam; and no marvel was that, +for never had she looked fairer. And forsooth the War-leader was +not utterly well-pleased; for he was deeming that there would be delaying +of his wedding, now that the Sun-beam was to become a maid of the Steer; +and in his mind he half deemed that it would be better if he were to +take her by the hand and lead her home through the wild-wood, he and +she alone; and she looked on him shyly, as though she had a deeming +of his thought. Albeit he knew it might not be, that he, the chosen +War-leader, should trouble the peace of the kindred; for he wotted that +all this was done for peace’ sake.</p> +<p>So Hall-ward stood forth and took the Sun-beam’s right hand +in his, and said:</p> +<p>‘Now do I take this maiden, Sun-beam of the kindred of the +Wolf, and lead her into the House of the Steer, to be in all ways one +of the maidens of our House, and to wed in the blood wherein we have +been wont to wed. Neither from henceforth let anyone say that +this woman is not of the blood of the Steer; for we have given her our +blood, and she is of us duly and truly.’</p> +<p>Thereafter they talked together merrily for a little, and then turned +toward the houses, for the sun was now down; and as they went Iron-face +spake to his son, and said:</p> +<p>‘Gold-mane, wilt thou verily keep thine oath to wed the fairest +woman in the world? By how much is this one fairer than my dear +daughter who shall no more dwell in mine house?’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Yea, father, I shall keep mine oath; for +the Gods, who know much, know that when I swore last Yule I was thinking +of the fair woman going yonder beside Hall-ward, and of none other.’</p> +<p>‘Ah, son!’ said Iron-face, ‘why didst thou beguile +us? Hadst thou but told us the truth then!’</p> +<p>‘Yea, Alderman,’ said Face-of-god smiling, ‘and +how thou wouldest have raged against me then, when thou hast scarce +forgiven me now! In sooth, father, I feared to tell you all: I +was young; I was one against the world. Yea, yea; and even that +was sweet to me, so sorely as I loved her - Hast thou forgotten, father?’</p> +<p>Iron-face smiled, and answered not; and so came they to the house +wherein they were guested.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER LIV. TIDINGS OF DALLACH: A FOLK-MOTE IN SILVER-DALE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Three days thereafter came two swift runners from Rose-dale with +tidings of Dallach. In all wise had he thriven, and had slain +many of the runaways, and had come happily to Rose-dale: therein by +the mere shaking of their swords had they all their will; for there +were but a few of the Dusky Warriors in the Dale, since the more part +had fared to the slaughter in Silver-stead. Now therefore had +Dallach been made Alderman of Rose-dale; and the Burgdalers who had +gone with him should abide the coming thither of the rest of the Burgdale +Host, and meantime of their coming should uphold the new Alderman in +Rose-dale. Howbeit Dallach sent word that it was not to be doubted +but that many of the Dusky Men had escaped to the woods, and should +yet be the death of many a mother’s son, unless it were well looked +to.</p> +<p>And now the more part of the Burgdale men and the Shepherds began +to look toward home, albeit some amongst them had not been ill-pleased +to abide there yet a while; for life was exceeding soft to them there, +though they helped the poor folk gladly in their husbandry. For +especially the women of the Dale, of whom many were very goodly, hankered +after the fair-faced tall Burgdalers, and were as kind to them as might +be. Forsooth not a few, both carles and queens, of the old thrall-folk +prayed them of Burgdale to take them home thither, that they might see +new things and forget their old torments once for all, yea, even in +dreams. The Burgdalers would not gainsay them, and there was no +one else to hinder; so that there went with the Burgdale men at their +departure hard on five score of the Silver-dale folk who were not of +the kindreds.</p> +<p>And now was a great Folk-mote holden in Silver-dale, whereto the +Burgdale men and the Shepherds were bidden; and thereat the War-leader +gave out the morrow of the morrow for the day of the departure of the +Host. There also were the matters of Silver-dale duly ordered: +the Men of the Wolf would have had the Woodlanders dwell with them in +the fair-builded stead, and take to them of the goodly stone houses +there what they would; but this they naysaid, choosing rather to dwell +in scattered houses, which they built for themselves at the utmost limit +of the tillage.</p> +<p>Indeed, the most abode not even there a long while; for they loved +the wood and its deeds. So they went forth into the wood, and +cleared them space to dwell in, and builded them halls such as they +loved, and fell to their old woodland crafts of charcoal-burning and +hunting, wherein they throve well. And good for Silver-dale was +their abiding there, since they became a sure defence and stout outpost +against all foemen. For the rest, wheresoever they dwelt, they +were guest-cherishing and blithe, and were well beloved by all people; +and they wedded with the other Houses of the Children of the Wolf.</p> +<p>As to the other matters whereof they took rede at this Folk-mote, +they had mostly to do with the warding of the Dale, and the learning +of the delivered thralls to handle weapons duly. For men deemed +it most like that they would have to meet other men of the kindred of +the Felons; which indeed fell out as the years wore.</p> +<p>Moreover, Folk-might (by the rede of Stone-face) sent messengers +to the Plain and the Cities, unto men whom he knew there, doing them +to wit of the tidings of Silver-dale, and how that a peaceful and guest-loving +people, having good store of wares, now dwelt therein, so that chapmen +might have recourse thither.</p> +<p>Lastly spake Folk-might and said:</p> +<p>‘Guests and brothers-in-arms, we have been looking about our +new house, which was our old one, and therein we find great store of +wares which we need not, and which we can but use if ye use them. +Of your kindness therefore we pray you to take of those things what +ye can easily carry. And if ye say the way is long, as indeed +it is, since ye are bent on going through the wood to Rose-dale, and +so on to Burgdale, yet shall we furnish you with beasts to bear your +goods, and with such wains as may pass through the woodland ways.’</p> +<p>Then rose up Fox of Upton and said: ‘O Folk-might, and ye men +of the Wolf, be it known unto you, that if we have done anything for +your help in the winning of Silver-dale, we have thus done that we might +help ourselves also, so that we might live in peace henceforward, and +that we might have your friendship and fellowship therewithal, so that +here in Silver-dale might wax a mighty folk who joined unto us should +be strong enough to face the whole world. Such are the redes of +wise men when they go a-warring. But we have no will to go back +home again made rich with your wealth; this hath been far from our thought +in this matter.’</p> +<p>And there went up a murmur from all the Burgdalers yeasaying his +word.</p> +<p>But Folk-might took up the word again and spake:</p> +<p>‘Men of Burgdale and the Sheepcotes, what ye say is both manly +and friendly; yet, since we look to see a road made plain through the +woodland betwixt Burgdale and Silver-dale, and that often ye shall face +us in the feast-hall, and whiles stand beside us in the fray, we must +needs pray you not to shame us by departing empty-handed; for how then +may we look upon your faces again? Stone-face, my friend, thou +art old and wise; therefore I bid thee to help us herein, and speak +for us to thy kindred, that they naysay us not in this matter.’</p> +<p>Then stood up Stone-face and said: ‘Forsooth, friends, Folk-might +is in the right herein; for he may look for anger from the wights that +come and go betwixt his kindred and the Gods, if they see us faring +back giftless through the woods. Moreover, now that ye have seen +Silver-dale, ye may wot how rich a land it is of all good things, and +able to bring forth enough and to spare. And now meseemeth the +Gods love this Folk that shall dwell here; and they shall become a mighty +Folk, and a part of our very selves. Therefore let us take the +gifts of our friends, and thank them blithely. For surely, as +saith Folk-might, henceforth the wood shall become a road betwixt us, +and the thicket a halting-place for friends bearing goodwill in their +hands.’</p> +<p>When he had spoken, men yeasaid his words and forbore the gifts no +longer; and the Folk-mote sundered in all loving-kindness.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER LV. DEPARTURE FROM SILVER-DALE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>On morrow of the morrow were the Burgdale men and they of the Shepherds +gathered together in the Market-stead early in the morning, and they +were all ready for departure; and the men of the Wolf and the Woodlanders, +and of the delivered thralls a great many, stood round about them grieving +that they must go. There was much talk between the folk of the +Dale and the Guests, and many promises were given and taken to come +and go betwixt the two Dales. There also were the men of the thrall-folk +who were to wend home with the Burgdalers; and they had been stuffed +with good things by the men of the kindreds, and were as fain as might +be.</p> +<p>As for the Sun-beam, she was somewhat out of herself at first, being +eager and restless beyond her wont, and yet at whiles weeping-ripe when +she called to mind that she was now leaving all those things, the gain +whereof had been a dream to her both waking and sleeping for these years +past. But at last, as she stood in the door of the Mote-house, +and beheld all the throng of folk happy and friendly, it came over her +that she herself had done her full share to bring all this about, and +that all those pleasant places of Silver-dale now full of the goodly +life of man would be there even as she had striven for them, and that +they would be a part of her left behind, though she were dwelling otherwhere.</p> +<p>Therewithal she said to herself that it was now her part to wield +the life of men in Burgdale, and begin once more her days of a chieftain +and a swayer of the Folk, and the life of a stirring woman, which the +edge of the sword and the need of the hard hand-play had taken out of +her hands for a while, making her as a child in the hands of the strong +wielders of the blades.</p> +<p>So now she became calm once more, and her face was clad again with +the full measure of that majesty of beauty which had once overawed Face-of-god +amidst his love of her; and folk beheld her and marvelled at her fairness, +and said: ‘She hath an inward sorrow at leaving the fair Dale +wherein her Fathers dwelt, and where her mother’s ashes lie in +earth.’ Albeit now was her sorrow but little, and much was +her hope, and her foresight of days to be; though all the Dale, yea, +every leaf and twig of it whereby her feet had ever passed, and each +stone of the fair houses, was to her as a picture that she could look +on from henceforth for ever.</p> +<p>Of the Bride it is to be said that she was now much mended, and she +caused men bear her on a litter out into the Marketplace, that she might +look on the departure of her folk. She had seen Face-of-god once +and again since the Day of Battle, and each time had been kind and blithe +with him; and for Iron-face, she loved him so well that she was ever +loth to let him depart from her, save when Folk-might was with her.</p> +<p>And now was the Alderman standing beside her, and she said to him: +‘Friend and kinsman, this is the day of departure, and though +I must needs abide behind, and am content to abide, yet doth mine heart +ache with the sundering; for to-morrow when I wake in the morning there +will be no more sending of a messenger to fetch thee to me. Indeed, +great hath been the love between me and my people, and nought hath come +between us to mar it. Now, kinsman, I would see Gold-mane, my +cousin, that I may bid him farewell; for who knoweth if I shall see +him again hereafter?’</p> +<p>Then went Iron-face and found Face-of-god where he was speaking with +Folk-might and the chieftains, and said to him:</p> +<p>‘Come quickly, for thy cousin the Bride would speak with thee.’</p> +<p>Face-of-god reddened, and paled afterwards, but he went along with +his father silently; and his heart beat as he came and stood before +the litter whereas the Bride lay, clad all in white and propped up on +fair cushions of red silk. She was frail to look on, and worn +and pale yet; but he deemed that she was very happy.</p> +<p>She smiled on him, and reached out her hand and said:</p> +<p>‘Welcome once more, cousin!’ And he held her hand +and kissed it, and was nigh weeping, so sore was he beset by a throng +of memories concerning her and him in the days when they were little; +and he bethought him of her loving-kindness of past days, beyond that +of most children, beyond that of most maidens; and how there was nothing +in his life but she had a share in it, till the day when he found the +Hall on the Mountain.</p> +<p>So he said to her: ‘Kinswoman, is it well with thee?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘I am now nigh whole of my hurts.’</p> +<p>He was silent a while; then he said:</p> +<p>‘And otherwise art thou merry at heart?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, indeed,’ said she; ‘yet thou wilt not find +it hard to deem that I am sorry of the sundering betwixt me and Burgdale.’</p> +<p>Again was he silent, and said in a while: ‘Dost thou deem that +I wrought that sundering?’</p> +<p>She smiled kindly on him and said: ‘Gold-mane, my playmate, +thou art become a mighty warrior and a great chief; but thou art not +so mighty as that. Many things lay behind the sundering which +were neither thou nor I.’</p> +<p>‘Yet,’ said he, ‘it was but such a little time +agone that all things seemed so sure; and we - to both of us was the +outlook happy.’</p> +<p>‘Let it be happy still,’ she said, ‘now begrudging +is gone. Belike the sundering came because we were so sure, and +had no defence against the wearing of the days; even as it fareth with +a folk that hath no foes.’</p> +<p>He smiled and said: ‘Even as it hath befallen <i>thy</i> folk, +O Bride, a while ago.’</p> +<p>She reddened, and reached her hand to him, and he took it and held +it, and said: ‘Shall I see thee again as the days wear?’</p> +<p>Said she: ‘O chieftain of the Folk, thou shalt have much to +do in Burgdale, and the way is long. Yet would I have thee see +my children. Forget not the token on my hand which thou holdest. +But now get thee to thy folk with no more words; for after all, playmate, +the sundering is grievous to me, and I would not spin out the time thereof. +Farewell!’</p> +<p>He said no more, but stooped down and kissed her lips, and then turned +from her, and took his ways to the head of the Host, and fell to asking +and answering, and bidding and arraying; and in a little time was his +heart dancing with joy to think of the days that lay before him, wherein +now all seemed happy.</p> +<p>So was all arrayed for departure when it lacked three hours of noon. +As Folk-might had promised, there were certain light wains drawn by +bullocks abiding the departure of the Host, and of sumpter bullocks +and horses no few; and all these were laden with fair gifts of the Dale, +as silver, and raiment, and weapons. There were many things fair-wrought +in the time of the Sorrow, that henceforth should see but little sorrow. +Moreover, there was plenty of provision for the way, both meal and wine, +and sheep and neat; and all things as fair as might be, and well-arrayed.</p> +<p>It was the Shepherds who were to lead the way; and after them were +arrayed the men of the Vine and the Sickle; then they of the Steer, +the Bridge, and the Bull; and lastly the House of the Face, with old +Stone-face leading them. The Sun-beam was to journey along with +the House of the Steer, which had taken her in as a maiden of their +blood; and though she had so much liefer have fared with the House of +the Face, yet she went meekly as she was bidden, as one who has gotten +a great thing, and will make no stir about a small one.</p> +<p>Along with her were Wood-father and Wood-mother, and Wood-wise, now +whole of his hurt, and Wood-wont, and Bow-may. Save Bow-may, they +were not very joyous; for they were fain of Silver-dale, and it irked +them to leave it; moreover, they also had liefer have gone along with +the House of the War-leader.</p> +<p>Last of all went those people of the once thralls of the Dusky Men +who had cast in their lot with the Burgdalers, and they were exceeding +merry; and especially the women of them, they were chattering like the +stares in the autumn evening, when they gather from the fields in the +tall elm-trees before they go to roost.</p> +<p>Now all the men of the Dale, both of the kindreds and of the thrall-folk, +made way for the Host and its havings, that they might go their ways +down the Dale; albeit the Woodlanders clung close to the line of their +ancient friends, and with them, as men who were sorry for the sundering, +were Wolf-stone and God-swain and Spear-fist. But the chiefs, +they drew around Folk-might a little beside the way.</p> +<p>Now Red-coat of Waterless, who had been hurt, and was now whole again, +cast his arms about Folk-might and kissed him, and said:</p> +<p>‘All the way hence to Burgdale will I sow with good wishes +for thee and thine, and especially for my dear friend God-swain of the +Silver Arm; and I would wish and long that they might turn into spells +to draw thy feet to usward; for we love thee well.’</p> +<p>In like wise spake other of the Burgdalers; and Folk-might was kind +and blithe with them, and he said:</p> +<p>‘Friends, forget ye not that the way is no longer from you +to us than it is from us to you. One half of this matter it is +for you to deal with.’</p> +<p>‘True is that,’ said Red-beard of the Knolls, ‘but +look you, Folk-might, we be but simple husbandmen, and may not often +stir from our meadows and acres; even now I bethink me that May is amidst +us, and I am beginning to be drawn by the thought of the haysel. +Whereas thou - ’ (and therewith he reddened) ‘I doubt that +thou hast little to do save the work of chieftains, and we know that +such work is but little missed if it be undone.’</p> +<p>Thereat Folk-might laughed; and when the others saw that he laughed, +they laughed also, else had they foreborne for courtesy’s sake.</p> +<p>But Folk-might answered: ‘Nay, chief of the Sickle, I am not +altogether a chieftain, now we have gotten us peace; and somewhat of +a husbandman shall I be. Moreover, doubt ye not that I shall do +my utmost to behold the fair Dale again; for it is but mountains that +meet not.’</p> +<p>Now spake Face-of-god to Folk-might, smiling and somewhat softly, +and said: ‘Is all forgiven now, since the day when we first felt +each other’s arms?’</p> +<p>‘Yea, all,’ said Folk-might; ‘now hath befallen +what I foretold thee in Shadowy Vale, that thou mightest pay for all +that had come and gone, if thou wouldest but look to it. Indeed +thou wert angry with me for that saying on that eve of Shadowy Vale; +but see thou, in those days I was an older man than thou, and might +admonish thee somewhat; but now, though but few days have gone over +thine head, yet many deeds have abided in thine hand, and thou art much +aged. Anger hath left thee, and wisdom hath waxed in thee. +As for me, I may now say this word: May the Folk of Burgdale love the +Folk of Silver-dale as well as I love thee; then shall all be well.’</p> +<p>Then Face-of-god cast his arms about him and kissed him, and turned +away toward Stone-face and Hall-face his brother, where they stood at +the head of the array of the Face; and even therewith came up the Alderman +somewhat sad and sober of countenance, and he pushed by the War-leader +roughly and would not speak with him.</p> +<p>And now blew up the horns of the Shepherds, and they began to move +on amidst the shouting of the men of Silver-dale; yet were there amongst +the Woodlanders those who wept when they saw their friends verily departing +from them.</p> +<p>But when they of the foremost of the Host were gotten so far forward +that the men of the Face could begin to move, lo! there was Redesman +with his fiddle amongst the leaders; and he had done a man’s work +in the day of battle, and all looked kindly on him. About him +on this morn were some who had learned the craft of singing well together, +and knew his minstrelsy, and he turned to these and nodded as their +array moved on, and he drew his bow across the strings, and straightway +they fell a-singing, even as it might be thus:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Back again to the dear Dale where born was the kindred,<br /> Here +wend we all living, and liveth our mirth.<br />Here afoot fares our +joyance, whatever men hindred,<br /> Through all wrath +of the heavens, all storms of the earth.</p> +<p>O true, we have left here a part of our treasure,<br /> The +ashes of stout ones, the stems of the shield;<br />But the bold lives +they spended have sown us new pleasure,<br /> Fair +tales for the telling in fold and on field.</p> +<p>For as oft as we sing of their edges’ upheaving,<br /> When +the yellowing windows shine forth o’er the night,<br />Their names +unforgotten with song interweaving<br /> Shall draw +forth dear drops from the depths of delight.</p> +<p>Or when down by our feet the grey sickles are lying,<br /> And +behind us is curling the supper-tide smoke,<br />No whit shall they +grudge us the joyance undying,<br /> Remembrance of +men that put from us the yoke.</p> +<p>When the huddle of ewes from the fells we have driven,<br /> And +we see down the Dale the grey reach of the roof,<br />We shall tell +of the gift in the battle-joy given,<br /> All the +fierceness of friends that drave sorrow aloof.</p> +<p>Once then we lamented, and mourned them departed;<br /> Once +only, no oftener. Henceforth shall we fling<br />Their names up +aloft, when the merriest hearted<br /> To the Fathers +unseen of our life-days we sing.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Then was there silence in the ranks of men; and many murmured the +names of the fallen as they fared on their way from out the Market-place +of Silver-stead. Then once more Redesman and his mates took up +the song:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Come tell me, O friends, for whom bideth the maiden<br /> Wet-foot +from the river-ford down in the Dale?<br />For whom hath the goodwife +the ox-waggon laden<br /> With the babble of children, +brown-handed and hale?</p> +<p>Come tell me for what are the women abiding,<br /> Till +each on the other aweary they lean?<br />Is it loitering of evil that +thus they are chiding,<br /> The slow-footed bearers +of sorrow unseen?</p> +<p>Nay, yet were they toiling if sorrow had worn them,<br /> Or +hushed had they bided with lips parched and wan.<br />The birds of the +air other tidings have borne them -<br /> How glad +through the wood goeth man beside man.</p> +<p>Then fare forth, O valiant, and loiter no longer<br /> Than +the cry of the cuckoo when May is at hand;<br />Late waxeth the spring-tide, +and daylight grows longer,<br /> And nightly the star-street +hangs high o’er the land.</p> +<p>Many lives, many days for the Dale do ye carry;<br /> When +the Host breaketh out from the thicket unshorn,<br />It shall be as +the sun that refuseth to tarry<br /> On the crown of +all mornings, the Midsummer morn.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Again the song fell down till they were well on the western way down +Silver-dale; and then Redesman handled his fiddle once more, and again +the song rose up, and such-like were the words which were borne back +into the Market-place of Silver-stead:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>And yet what is this, and why fare ye so slowly,<br /> While +our echoing halls of our voices are dumb,<br />And abideth unlitten +the hearth-brand the holy,<br /> And the feet of the +kind fare afield till we come?</p> +<p>For not yet through the wood and its tangle ye wander;<br /> Now +skirt we no thicket, no path by the mere;<br />Far aloof for our feet +leads the Dale-road out yonder;<br /> Full fair is +the morning, its doings all clear.</p> +<p>There is nought now our feet on the highway delaying<br /> Save +the friend’s loving-kindness, the sundering of speech;<br />The +well-willer’s word that ends words with the saying,<br /> The +loth to depart while each looketh on each.</p> +<p>Fare on then, for nought are ye laden with sorrow;<br /> The +love of this land do ye bear with you still.<br />In two Dales of the +earth for to-day and to-morrow<br /> Is waxing the +oak-tree of peace and good-will.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Thus then they departed from Silver-dale, even as men who were a +portion thereof, and had not utterly left it behind. And that +night they lay in the wild-wood not very far from the Dale’s end; +for they went softly, faring amongst so many friends.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER LVI. TALK UPON THE WILD-WOOD WAY</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>On the morrow morning when they were on their way again Face-of-god +left his own folk to go with the House of the Steer a while; and amongst +them he fell in with the Sun-beam going along with Bow-may. So +they greeted him kindly, and Face-of-god fell into talk with the Sun-beam +as they went side by side through a great oak-wood, where for a space +was plain green-sward bare of all underwood.</p> +<p>So in their talk he said to her: ‘What deemest thou, my speech-friend, +concerning our coming back to guest in Silver-dale one day?’</p> +<p>‘The way is long,’ she said.</p> +<p>‘That may hinder us but not stay us,’ said Face-of-god.</p> +<p>‘That is sooth,’ said the Sun-beam.</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘What things shall stay us? Or deemest +thou that we shall never see Silver-dale again?’</p> +<p>She smiled: ‘Even so I think thou deemest, Gold-mane. +But many things shall hinder us besides the long road.’</p> +<p>Said he: ‘Yea, and what things?’</p> +<p>‘Thinkest thou,’ said the Sun-beam, ‘that the winning +of Silver-stead is the last battle which thou shalt see?’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ said he, ‘nay.’</p> +<p>‘Shall thy Dale - our Dale - be free from all trouble within +itself henceforward? Is there a wall built round it to keep out +for ever storm, pestilence, and famine, and the waywardness of its own +folk?’</p> +<p>‘So it is as thou sayest,’ quoth Face-of-god, ‘and +to meet such troubles and overcome them, or to die in strife with them, +this is a great part of a man’s life.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and hast thou forgotten that +thou art now a great chieftain, and that the folk shall look to thee +to use thee many days in the year?’</p> +<p>He laughed and said: ‘So it is. How many days have gone +by since I wandered in the wood last autumn, that the world should have +changed so much!’</p> +<p>‘Many deeds shall now be in thy days,’ she said, ‘and +each deed as the corn of wheat from which cometh many corns; and a man’s +days on the earth are not over many.’</p> +<p>‘Then farewell, Silver-dale!’ said he, waving his hand +toward the north. ‘War and trouble may bring me back to +thee, but it maybe nought else shall. Farewell!’</p> +<p>She looked on him fondly but unsmiling, as he went beside her strong +and warrior-like. Three paces from him went Bow-may, barefoot, +in her white kirtle, but bearing her bow in her hand; a leash of arrows +was in her girdle, her quiver hung at her back, and she was girt with +a sword. On the other side went Wood-wont and Wood-wise, lightly +clad but weaponed. Wood-mother was riding in an ox-wain just behind +them, and Wood-father went beside her bearing an axe. Scattered +all about them were the men of the Steer, gaily clad, bearing weapons, +so that the oak-wood was bright with them, and the glades merry with +their talk and singing and laughter, and before them down the glades +went the banner of the Steer, and the White Beast led them the nearest +way to Burgdale.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER LVII. HOW THE HOST CAME HOME AGAIN</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>It was fourteen days before they came to Rose-dale; for they had +much baggage with them, and they had no mind to weary themselves, and +the wood was nothing loathsome to them, whereas the weather was fair +and bright for the more part. They fell in with no mishap by the +way. But a score and three of runaways joined themselves to the +Host, having watched their goings and wotting that they were not foemen. +Of these, some had heard of the overthrow of the Dusky Men in Silver-dale, +and others not. The Burgdalers received them all, for it seemed +to them no great matter for a score or so of new-comers to the Dale.</p> +<p>But when the Host was come to Rose-dale, they found it fair arid +lovely; and there they met with those of their folk who had gone with +Dallach. But Dallach welcomed the kindreds with great joy, and +bade them abide; for he said that they had the less need to hasten, +since he had sent messengers into Burgdale to tell men there of the +tidings. Albeit they were mostly loth to tarry; yet when he lay +hard on them not to depart as men on the morrow of a gild-feast, they +abode there three days, and were as well guested as might be, and on +their departure they were laden with gifts from the wealth of Rose-dale +by Dallach and his folk.</p> +<p>Before they went their ways Dallach spake with Face-of-god and the +chiefs of the Dalesmen, and said:</p> +<p>‘Ye have given me much from the time when ye found me in the +wood a naked wastrel; yet now I would ask you a gift to lay on the top +of all that ye have given me.’</p> +<p>Said Face-of-god: ‘Name the gift, and thou shalt have it; for +we deem thee our friend.’</p> +<p>‘I am no less,’ said Dallach, ‘as in time to come +I may perchance be able to show you. But now I am asking you to +suffer a score or two of your men to abide here with me this summer, +till I see how this folk new-born again is like to deal with me. +For pleasure and a fair life have become so strange to them, that they +scarce know what to do with them, or how to live; and unless all is +to go awry, I must needs command and forbid; and though belike they +love me, yet they fear me not; so that when my commandment pleaseth +them, they do as I bid, and when it pleaseth them not, they do contrary +to my bidding; for it hath got into their minds that I shall in no case +lift a hand against them, which indeed is the very sooth. But +your folk they fear as warriors of the world, who have slain the Dusky +Men in the Market-place of Silver-stead; and they are of alien blood +to them, men who will do as their friend biddeth (think our folk) against +them who are neither friends or foes. With such help I shall be +well holpen.’</p> +<p>In such wise spake Dallach; and Face-of-god and the chiefs said that +so it should be, if men could be found willing to abide in Rose-dale +for a while. And when the matter was put abroad, there was no +lack of such men amongst the younger warriors, who had noted that the +dale was fair amongst dales and its women fairer yet amongst women.</p> +<p>So two score and ten of the Burgdale men abode in Rose-dale, no one +of whom was of more than twenty and five winters. Forsooth divers +of them set up house in Rose-dale, and never came back to Burgdale, +save as guests. For a half score were wedded in Rose-dale before +the year’s ending; and seven more, who had also taken to them +wives of the goodliest of the Rose-dale women, betook them the next +spring to the Burg of the Runaways, and there built them a stead, and +drew a garth about it, and dug and sowed the banks of the river, which +they called Inglebourne. And as years passed, this same stead +throve exceedingly, and men resorted thither both from Rose-dale and +Burgdale; for it was a pleasant place; and the land, when it was cured, +was sweet and good, and the wood thereabout was full of deer of all +kinds. So their stead was called Inglebourne after the stream; +and in latter days it became a very goodly habitation of men.</p> +<p>Moreover, some of the once-enthralled folk of Rose-dale, when they +knew that men of their kindred from Silver-dale were going home with +the men of Burgdale to dwell in the Dale, prayed hard to go along with +them; for they looked on the Burgdalers as if they were new Gods of +the Earth. The Burgdale chiefs would not gainsay these men either, +but took with them three score and ten from Rose-dale, men and women, +and promised them dwelling and livelihood in Burgdale.</p> +<p>So now with good hearts the Host of Burgdale turned their faces toward +their well-beloved Dale; and they made good diligence, so that in three +days’ time they were come anigh the edge of the woodland wilderness. +Thither in the even-tide, as they were making ready for their last supper +and bed in the wood, came three men and two women of their folk, who +had been abiding their coming ever since they had had the tidings of +Silver-dale and the battles from Dallach. Great was the joy of +these messengers as they went from company to company of the warriors, +and saw the familiar faces of their friends, and heard their wonted +voices telling all the story of battle and slaughter. And for +their part the men of the Host feasted these stay-at-homes, and made +much of them. But one of them, a man of the House of the Face, +left the Host a little after nightfall, and bore back to Burgstead at +once the tidings of the coming home of the Host. Albeit since +Dallach’s tidings of victory had come to the Dale, the dwellers +in the steads of the country-side had left Burgstead and gone home to +their own houses; so that there was no great multitude abiding in the +Thorp.</p> +<p>So early on the morrow was the Host astir; but ere they came to Wildlake’s +Way, the Shepherd-folk turned aside westward to go home, after they +had bidden farewell to their friends and fellows of the Dale; for their +souls longed for the sheepcotes in the winding valleys under the long +grey downs; and the garths where the last year’s ricks shouldered +up against the old stone gables, and where the daws were busy in the +tall unfrequent ash-trees; and the green flowery meadows adown along +the bright streams, where the crowfoot and the paigles were blooming +now, and the harebells were in flower about the thorn-bushes at the +down’s foot, whence went the savour of their blossom over sheep-walk +and water-meadow.</p> +<p>So these went their ways with many kind words; and two hours afterwards +all the rest of the Host stood on the level ground of the Portway; but +presently were the ranks of war disordered and broken up by the joy +of the women and children, as they fell to drawing goodman or brother +or lover out of the throng to the way that led speediest to their homesteads +and halls. For the War-leader would not hold the Host together +any longer, but suffered each man to go to his home, deeming that the +men of Burgstead, and chiefly they of the Face and the Steer, would +suffice for a company if any need were, and they would be easily gathered +to meet any hap.</p> +<p>So now the men of the Middle and Lower Dale made for their houses +by the road and the lanes and the meadows, and the men of the Upper +Dale and Burgstead went their ways along the Portway toward their halls, +with the throng of women and children that had come out to meet them. +And now men came home when it was yet early, and the long day lay before +them; and it was, as it were, made giddy and cumbered with the exceeding +joy of return, and the thought of the day when the fear of death and +sundering had been ever in their hearts. For these new hours were +full of the kissing and embracing of lovers, and the sweetness of renewed +delight in beholding the fair bodies so sorely desired, and hearkening +the soft wheedling of longed-for voices. There were the cups of +friends beneath the chestnut trees, and the talk of the deeds of the +fighting-men, and of the heavy days of the home-abiders; many a tale +told oft and o’er again. There was the singing of old songs +and of new, and the beholding the well-loved nook of the pleasant places, +which death might well have made nought for them; and they were sweet +with the fear of that which was past, and in their pleasantness was +fresh promise for the days to come.</p> +<p>So amid their joyance came evening and nightfall; and though folk +were weary with the fulness of delight, yet now for many their weariness +led them to the chamber of love before the rest of deep night came to +them to make them strong for the happy life to be begun again on the +morrow.</p> +<p>House by house they feasted, and few were the lovers that sat not +together that even. But Face-of-god and the Sun-beam parted at +the door of the House of the Face; for needs must she go with her new +folk to the House of the Steer, and needs must Face-of-god be amongst +his own folk in that hour of high-tide, and sit beside his father beneath +the image of the God with the ray-begirt head.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER LVIII. HOW THE MAIDEN WARD WAS HELD IN BURGDALE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Now May was well worn when the Host came home to Burgdale; and on +the very morrow of men’s home-coming they began to talk eagerly +of the Midsummer Weddings, and how the Maiden Ward would be the greatest +and fairest of all yet seen, whereas battle and the deliverance from +battle stir up the longing and love both of men and maidens; much also +men spake of the wedding of Face-of-god and the Sun-beam; and needs +must their wedding abide to the time of the Maiden Ward at Midsummer, +and needs also must the Sun-beam go on the Ward with the other Brides +of the Folk. So then must Face-of-god keep his soul in patience +till those few days were over, doing what work came to hand; and he +held his head high among the people, and was well looked to of every +man.</p> +<p>In all matters the Sun-beam helped him, both in doing and in forbearing; +and now so wonderful and rare was her beauty, that folk looked on her +with somewhat of fear, as though she came from the very folk of the +Gods.</p> +<p>Indeed she seemed somewhat changed from what she had been of late; +she was sober of demeanour during these last days of her maidenhood, +and sat amongst the kindred as one communing with herself: of few words +she was and little laughter; but her face clear, not overcast by any +gloom or shaken by passion: soft and kind was she in converse with others, +and sweet were the smiles that came into her face if others’ faces +seemed to crave for them. For it must be said that as some folk +eat out their hearts with fear of the coming evils, even so was she +feeding her soul with the joy of the days to be, whatever trouble might +fall upon them, whereof belike she foreboded some.</p> +<p>So wore the days toward Midsummer, when the wheat was getting past +the blossoming, and the grass in the mown fields was growing deep green +again after the shearing of the scythe; when the leaves were most and +biggest; when the roses were beginning to fall; when the apples were +reddening, and the skins of the grape-berries gathering bloom. +High aloft floated the light clouds over the Dale; deep blue showed +the distant fells below the ice-mountains; the waters dwindled; all +things sought the shadow by daytime, and the twilight of even and the +twilight of dawn were but sundered by three hours of half-dark night.</p> +<p>So in the bright forenoon were seventeen brides assembled in the +Gate of Burgstead (but of the rest of the Dale were twenty and three +looked for), and with these was the Sun-beam, her face as calm as the +mountain lake under a summer sunset, while of the others many were restless, +and babbling like April throstles; and not a few talked to her eagerly, +and in their restless love of her dragged her about hither and thither.</p> +<p>No men were to be seen that morning; for such was the custom, that +the carles either departed to the fields and the acres, or abode within +doors on the morn of the day of the Maiden Ward; but there was a throng +of women about the Gate and down the street of Burgstead, and it may +well be deemed that they kept not silence that hour.</p> +<p>So fared the Brides of Burgstead to the place of the Maiden Ward +on the causeway, whereto were come already the other brides from steads +up and down the Dale, or were even then close at hand on the way; and +among them were Long-coat and her two fellows, with whom Face-of-god +had held converse on that morning whereon he had followed his fate to +the Mountain.</p> +<p>There then were they gathered under the cliff-wall of the Portway; +and by the road-side had their grooms built them up bowers of green +boughs to shelter them from the sun’s burning, which were thatched +with bulrushes, and decked with garlands of the fairest flowers of the +meadows and the gardens.</p> +<p>Forsooth they were a lovely sight to look on, for no fairer women +might be seen in the world; and the eldest of them was scant of five +and twenty winters. Every maiden was clad in as goodly raiment +as she might compass; their sleeves and gown-hems and girdles, yea, +their very shoes and sandals were embroidered so fairly and closely, +that as they shifted in the sun they changed colour like the king-fisher +shooting from shadow to sunshine. According to due custom every +maiden bore some weapon. A few had bows in their hands and quivers +at their backs; some had nought but a sword girt to their sides; some +bore slender-shafted spears, so as not to overburden their shapely hands; +but to some it seemed a merry game to carry long and heavy thrust-spears, +or to bear great war-axes over their shoulders. Most had their +flowing hair coifed with bright helms; some had burdened their arms +with shields; some bore steel hauberks over their linen smocks: almost +all had some piece of war-gear on their bodies; and one, to wit, Steed-linden +of the Sickle, a tall and fair damsel, was so arrayed that no garment +could be seen on her but bright steel war-gear.</p> +<p>As for the Sun-beam, she was clad in a white kirtle embroidered from +throat to hem with work of green boughs and flowers of the goodliest +fashion, and a garland of roses on her head. Dale-warden himself +was girt to her side by a girdle fair-wrought of golden wire, and she +bore no other weapon or war-gear; and she let him lie quiet in his scabbard, +nor touched the hilts once; whereas some of the other damsels would +be ever drawing their swords out and thrusting them back. But +all noted that goodly weapon, the yoke-fellow of so many great deeds.</p> +<p>There then on the Portway, between the water and the rock-wall, rose +up plenteous and gleeful talk of clear voices shrill and soft; and whiles +the maidens sang, and whiles they told tales of old days, and whiles +they joined hands and danced together on the sweet summer dust of the +highway. Then they mostly grew aweary, and sat down on the banks +of the road or under their leafy bowers.</p> +<p>Noon came, and therewithal goodwives of the neighbouring Dale, who +brought them meat and drink, and fruit and fresh flowers from the teeming +gardens; and thereafter for a while they nursed their joy in their bosoms, +and spake but little and softly while the day was at its hottest in +the early afternoon.</p> +<p>Then came out of Burgstead men making semblance of chapmen with a +wain bearing wares, and they made as though they were wending down the +Portway westward to go out of the Dale. Then arose the weaponed +maidens and barred the way to them, and turned them back amidst fresh-springing +merriment.</p> +<p>Again in a while, when the sun was westering and the shadows growing +long, came herdsmen from down the Dale driving neat, and making as though +they would pass by into Burgstead, but to them also did the maidens +gainsay the road, so that needs must they turn back amidst laughter +and mockery, they themselves also laughing and mocking.</p> +<p>And so at last, when the maidens had been all alone a while, and +it was now hard on sunset, they drew together and stood in a ring, and +fell to singing; and one Gold-may of the House of the Bridge, a most +sweet singer, stood amidst their ring and led them. And this is +somewhat of the meaning of their words:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>The sun will not tarry; now changeth the light,<br />Fail the colours +that marry the Day to the Night.</p> +<p>Amid the sun’s burning bright weapons we bore,<br />For this +eve of our earning comes once and no more.</p> +<p>For to-day hath no brother in yesterday’s tide,<br />And to-morrow +no other alike it doth hide.</p> +<p>This day is the token of oath and behest<br />That ne’er shall +be broken through ill days and best.</p> +<p>Here the troth hath been given, the oath hath been done,<br />To +the Folk that hath thriven well under the sun.</p> +<p>And the gifts of its giving our troth-day shall win<br />Are the +Dale for our living and dear days therein.</p> +<p>O Sun, now thou wanest! yet come back and see<br />Amidst all that +thou gainest how gainful are we.</p> +<p>O witness of sorrow wide over the earth,<br />Rise up on the morrow +to look on our mirth!</p> +<p>Thy blooms art thou bringing back ever for men,<br />And thy birds +are a-singing each summer again.</p> +<p>But to men little-hearted what winter is worse<br />Than thy summers +departed that bore them the curse?</p> +<p>And e’en such art thou knowing where thriveth the year,<br />And +good is all growing save thralldom and fear.</p> +<p>Nought such be our lovers’ hearts drawing anigh,<br />While +yet thy light hovers aloft in the sky.</p> +<p>Lo the seeker, the finder of Death in the Blade!<br />What lips shall +be kinder on lips of mine laid?</p> +<p>La he that hath driven back tribes of the South!<br />Sweet-breathed +is thine even, but sweeter his mouth.</p> +<p>Come back from the sea then, O sun! come aback,<br />Look adown, +look on me then, and ask what I lack!</p> +<p>Come many a morrow to gaze on the Dale,<br />And if e’er thou +seest sorrow remember its tale!</p> +<p>For ’twill be of a story to tell how men died<br />In the garnering +of glory that no man may hide.</p> +<p>O sun sinking under! O fragrance of earth!<br />O heart! +O the wonder whence longing has birth!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>So they sang, and the sun sank indeed; and amidst their singing the +eve was still about them, though there came a happy murmur from the +face of the meadows and the houses of the Thorp aloof. But as +their song fell they heard the sound of footsteps a many on the road; +so they turned and stood with beating hearts in such order as when a +band of the valiant draw together to meet many foes coming on them from +all sides, and they stand back to back to face all comers. And +even therewith, their raiment gleaming amidst the gathering dusk, came +on them the young men of the Dale newly delivered from the grief of +war.</p> +<p>Then in very deed the fierce mouths of the raisers of the war-shout +were kind on the faces of tender maidens. Then went spear and +axe and helm and shield clattering to the earth, as the arms of the +new-comers went round about the bodies of the Brides, weary with the +long day of sunshine, and glee and loving speech, and the maidens suffered +the young men to lead them whither they would, and twilight began to +draw round about them as the Maiden Band was sundered.</p> +<p>Some, they were led away westward down the Portway to the homesteads +thereabout; and for divers of these the way was long to their halls, +and they would have to wend over long stretches of dewy meadows, and +hear the night-wind whisper in many a tree, and see the east begin to +lighten with the dawn before they came to the lighted feast that awaited +them. But some turned up the Portway straight towards Burgstead; +and short was their road to the halls where even now the lights were +being kindled for their greeting.</p> +<p>As for the Sun-beam, she had been very quiet the day long, speaking +as little as she might do, laughing not at all, and smiling for kindness’ +sake rather than for merriment; and when the grooms came seeking their +maidens, she withdrew herself from the band, and stood alone amidst +the road nigher to Burgstead than they; and her heart beat hard, and +her breath came short and quick, as though fear had caught her in its +grip; and indeed for one moment of time she feared that he was not coming +to her. For he had gone with the other grooms to that gathered +band, and had passed from one to the other, not finding her, till he +had got him through the whole company, and beheld her awaiting him. +Then indeed he bounded toward her, and caught her by the hands, and +then by the shoulders, and drew her to him, and she nothing loth; and +in that while he said to her:</p> +<p>‘Come then, my friend; lo thou! they go each their own way +toward the halls of their houses; and for thee have I chosen a way - +a way over the foot-bridge yonder, and over the dewy meadows on this +best even of the year.’</p> +<p>‘Nay, nay,’ she said, ‘it may not be. Surely +the Burgstead grooms look to thee to lead them to the gate; and surely +in the House of the Face they look to see thee before any other. +Nay, Gold-mane, my dear, we must needs go by the Portway.’</p> +<p>He said: ‘We shall be home but a very little while after the +first, for the way I tell of is as short as the Portway. But hearken, +my sweet! When we are in the meadows we shall sit down for a minute +on a bank under the chestnut trees, and thence watch the moon coming +up over the southern cliffs. And I shall behold thee in the summer +night, and deem that I see all thy beauty; which yet shall make me dumb +with wonder when I see it indeed in the house amongst the candles.’</p> +<p>‘O nay,’ she said, ‘by the Portway shall we go; +the torch-bearers shall be abiding thee at the gate.’</p> +<p>Spake Face-of-god: ‘Then shall we rise up and wend first through +a wide treeless meadow, wherein amidst the night we shall behold the +kine moving about like odorous shadows; and through the greyness of +the moonlight thou shalt deem that thou seest the pink colour of the +eglantine blossoms, so fragrant they are.’</p> +<p>‘O nay,’ she said, ‘but it is meet that we go by +the Portway.’</p> +<p>But he said: ‘Then from the wide meadow come we into a close +of corn, and then into an orchard-close beyond it. There in the +ancient walnut-tree the owl sitteth breathing hard in the night-time; +but thou shalt not hear him for the joy of the nightingales singing +from the apple-trees of the close. Then from out of the shadowed +orchard shall we come into the open town-meadow, and over its daisies +shall the moonlight be lying in a grey flood of brightness.</p> +<p>‘Short is the way across it to the brim of the Weltering Water, +and across the water lieth the fair garden of the Face; and I have dight +for thee there a little boat to waft us across the night-dark waters, +that shall be like wavering flames of white fire where the moon smites +them, and like the void of all things where the shadows hang over them. +There then shall we be in the garden, beholding how the hall-windows +are yellow, and hearkening the sound of the hall-glee borne across the +flowers and blending with the voice of the nightingales in the trees. +There then shall we go along the grass paths whereby the pinks and the +cloves and the lavender are sending forth their fragrance, to cheer +us, who faint at the scent of the over-worn roses, and the honey-sweetness +of the lilies.</p> +<p>‘All this is for thee, and for nought but for thee this even; +and many a blossom whereof thou knowest nought shall grieve if thy foot +tread not thereby to-night; if the path of thy wedding which I have +made, be void of thee, on the even of the Chamber of Love.</p> +<p>‘But lo! at last at the garden’s end is the yew-walk +arched over for thee, and thou canst not see whereby to enter it; but +I, I know it, and I lead thee into and along the dark tunnel through +the moonlight, and thine hand is not weary of mine as we go. But +at the end shall we come to a wicket, which shall bring us out by the +gable-end of the Hall of the Face. Turn we about its corner then, +and there are we blinking on the torches of the torch-bearers, and the +candles through the open door, and the hall ablaze with light and full +of joyous clamour, like the bale-fire in the dark night kindled on a +ness above the sea by fisher-folk remembering the Gods.’</p> +<p>‘O nay,’ she said, ‘but by the Portway must we +go; the straightest way to the Gate of Burgstead.’</p> +<p>In vain she spake, and knew not what she said; for even as he was +speaking he led her away, and her feet went as her will went, rather +than her words; and even as she said that last word she set her foot +on the first board of the foot-bridge; and she turned aback one moment, +and saw the long line of the rock-wall yet glowing with the last of +the sunset of midsummer, while as she turned again, lo! before her the +moon just beginning to lift himself above the edge of the southern cliffs, +and betwixt her and him all Burgdale, and Face-of-god moreover.</p> +<p>Thus then they crossed the bridge into the green meadows, and through +the closes and into the garden of the Face and unto the Hall-door; and +other brides and grooms were there before them (for six grooms had brought +home brides to the House of the Face); but none deemed it amiss in the +War-leader of the folk and the love that had led him. And old +Stone-face said: ‘Too many are the rows of bee-skeps in the gardens +of the Dale that we should begrudge wayward lovers an hour’s waste +of candle-light.’</p> +<p>So at last those twain went up the sun-bright Hall hand in hand in +all their loveliness, and up on to the daïs, and stood together +by the middle seat; and the tumult of the joy of the kindred was hushed +for a while as they saw that there was speech in the mouth of the War-leader.</p> +<p>Then he spread his hands abroad before them all and cried out: ‘How +then have I kept mine oath, whereas I swore on the Holy Boar to wed +the fairest woman of the world?’</p> +<p>A mighty shout went rattling about the timbers of the roof in answer +to his word; and they that looked up to the gable of the Hall said that +they saw the ray-ringed image of the God smile with joy over the gathered +folk.</p> +<p>But spake Iron-face unheard amidst the clamour of the Hall: ‘How +fares it now with my darling and my daughter, who dwelleth amongst strangers +in the land beyond the wild-wood?’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER LIX. THE BEHEST OF FACE-OF-GOD TO THE BRIDE ACCOMPLISHED: +A MOTE-STEAD APPOINTED FOR THE THREE FOLKS, TO WIT, THE MEN OF BURGDALE, +THE SHEPHERDS, AND THE CHILDREN OF THE WOLF</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Three years and two months thereafter, three hours after noon in +the days of early autumn, came a wain tilted over with precious webs +of cloth, and drawn by eight white oxen, into the Market-place of Silver-stead: +two score and ten of spearmen of the tallest, clad in goodly war-gear, +went beside it, and much people of Silver-dale thronged about them. +The wain stayed at the foot of the stair that led up to the door of +the Mote-house, and there lighted down therefrom a woman goodly of fashion, +with wide grey eyes, and face and hands brown with the sun’s burning. +She had a helm on her head and a sword girt to her side, and in her +arms she bore a yearling child.</p> +<p>And there was come Bow-may with the second man-child born to Face-of-god.</p> +<p>She stayed not amidst the wondering folk, but hastened up the stair, +which she had once seen running with the blood of men: the door was +open, and she went in and walked straight-way, with the babe in her +arms, up the great Hall to the daïs.</p> +<p>There were men on the daïs: amidmost sat Folk-might, little +changed since the last day she had seen him, yet fairer, she deemed, +than of old time; and her heart went forth to meet the Chieftain of +her Folk, and the glad tears started in her eyes and ran down her cheeks +as she drew near to him.</p> +<p>By his side sat the Bride, and her also Bow-may deemed to have waxed +goodlier. Both she and Folk-might knew Bow-may ere she had gone +half the length of the hall; and the Bride rose up in her place and +cried out Bow-may’s name joyously.</p> +<p>With these were sitting the elders of the Wolf and the Woodlanders, +the more part of whom Bow-may knew well.</p> +<p>On the daïs also stood aside a score of men weaponed, and looking +as if they were awaiting the word which should send them forth on some +errand.</p> +<p>Now stood up Folk-might and said: ‘Fair greeting and love to +my friend and the daughter of my Folk! How farest thou, Bow-may, +best of all friendly women? How fareth my sister, and Face-of-god +my brother? and how is it with our friends and helpers in the goodly +Dale?’</p> +<p>Said Bow-may: ‘It is well both with all those and with me; +and my heart laughs to see thee, Folk-might, and to look on the elders +of the valiant, and our lovely sister the Bride. But I have a +message for thee from Face-of-god: wilt thou that I deliver it here?’</p> +<p>‘Yea surely,’ said Folk-might, and came forth. and took +her hand, and kissed her cheeks and her mouth. The Bride also +came forth and cast her arms about her, and kissed her; and they led +her between them to a seat on the daïs beside Folk-might.</p> +<p>But all men looked on the child in her arms and wondered what it +was. But Bow-may took the babe, which was both fair and great, +and set it on the knees of the Bride, and said:</p> +<p>‘Thus saith Face-of-god: “Friend and kinswoman, well-beloved +playmate, the gift which thou badest of me in sorrow do thou now take +in joy, and do all the good thou wouldest to the son of thy friend. +The ring which I gave thee once in the garden of the Face, give thou +to Bow-may, my trusty and well-beloved, in token of the fulfilment of +my behest.”’</p> +<p>Then the Bride kissed Bow-may again, and fell to fondling of the +child, which was loth to leave Bow-may.</p> +<p>But she spake again: ‘To thee also, Folk-might, I have a message +from Face-of-god, who saith: “Mighty warrior, friend and fellow, +all things thrive with us, and we are happy. Yet is there a hollow +place in our hearts which grieveth us, and only thou and thine may amend +it. Though whiles we hear tell of thee, yet we see thee not, and +fain were we, might we see thee, and wot if the said tales be true. +Wilt thou help us somewhat herein, or wilt thou leave us all the labour? +For sure we be that thou wilt not say that thou rememberest us no more, +and that thy love for us is departed.” This is his message, +Folk-might, and he would have an answer from thee.’</p> +<p>Then laughed Folk-might and said: ‘Sister Bow-may, seest thou +these weaponed men hereby?’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ she said.</p> +<p>Said he: ‘These men bear a message with them to Face-of-god +my brother. Crow the Shaft-speeder, stand forth and tell thy friend +Bow-may the message I have set in thy mouth, every word of it.’</p> +<p>Then Crow stood forth and greeted Bow-may friendly, and said: ‘Friend +Bow-may, this is the message of our Alderman: “Friend and helper, +in the Dale which thou hast given to us do all things thrive; neither +are we grown old in three years’ wearing, nor are our memories +worsened. We long sore to see you and give you guesting in Silver-dale, +and one day that shall befall. Meanwhile, know this: that we of +the Wolf and the Woodland, mindful of the earth that bore us, and the +pit whence we were digged, have a mind to go see Shadowy Vale once in +every three years, and there to hold high-tide in the ancient Hall of +the Wolf, and sit in the Doom-ring of our Fathers. But since ye +have joined yourselves to us in battle, and have given us this Dale, +our health and wealth, without price and without reward, we deem you +our very brethren, and small shall be our hall-glee, and barren shall +our Doom-ring seem to us, unless ye sit there beside us. Come +then, that we may rejoice each other by the sight of face and sound +of voice; that we may speak together of matters that concern our welfare; +so that we three Kindreds may become one Folk. And if this seem +good to you, know that we shall be in Shadowy Vale in a half-month’s +wearing. Grieve us not by forbearing to come.” Lo, +Bow-may, this is the message, and I have learned it well, for well it +pleaseth me to bear it.’</p> +<p>Then said Folk-might: ‘What say’st thou to the message, +Bow-may?’</p> +<p>‘It is good in all ways,’ said she, ‘but is it +timely? May our folk have the message and get to Shadowy Vale, +so as to meet you there?’</p> +<p>‘Yea surely,’ said Folk-might, ‘for our kinsmen +here shall take the road through Shadowy Vale, and in four days’ +time they shall be in Burgdale, and as thou wottest, it is scant a two +days’ journey thence to Shadowy Vale.’</p> +<p>Therewith he turned to those men again, and said: ‘Kinsman +Crow, depart now, and use all diligence with thy message.’</p> +<p>So the messengers began to stir; but Bow-may cried out: ‘Ho! +Folk-might, my friend, I perceive thou art little changed from the man +I knew in Shadowy Vale, who would have his dinner before the fowl were +plucked. For shall I not go back with these thy messengers, so +that I also may get all ready to wend to the Mote-house of Shadowy Vale?’</p> +<p>But the Bride looked kindly on her, and laughed and said: ‘Sister +Bow-may, his meaning is that thou shouldest abide here in Silver-dale +till we depart for the Folk-thing, and then go thither with us; and +this I also pray thee to do, that thou mayst rejoice the hearts of thine +old friends; and also that thou mayst teach me all that I should know +concerning this fair child of my brother and my sister.’</p> +<p>And she looked on her so kindly as she caressed the babe, that Bow-may’s +heart melted, and she cried out:</p> +<p>‘Would that I might never depart from the house wherein thou +dwellest, O Bride of my Kinsman! And this that thou biddest me +is easy and pleasant for me to do. But afterwards I must get me +back to Burgdale; for I seem to have left much there that calleth for +me.’</p> +<p>‘Yea,’ said Folk-might, ‘and art thou wedded, Bow-may? +Shalt thou never bend the yew in battle again?’</p> +<p>Said Bow-may soberly: ‘Who knoweth, chieftain? Yea, I +am wedded now these two years; and nought I looked for less when I followed +those twain through the wild-wood to Burgdale.’</p> +<p>She sighed therewith, and said: ‘In all the Dale there is no +better man of his hands than my man, nor any goodlier to look on, and +he is even that Hart of Highcliff whom thou knowest well, O Bride!’</p> +<p>Said the Bride: ‘Thou sayest sooth, there is no better man +in the Dale.’</p> +<p>Said Bow-may: ‘Sun-beam bade me wed him when he pressed hard +upon me.’ She stayed awhile, and then said: ‘Face-of-god +also deemed I should not naysay the man; and now my son by him is of +like age to this little one.’</p> +<p>‘Good is thy story,’ said Folk-might; ‘or deemest +thou, Bow-may, that such strong and goodly women as thou, and women +so kind and friendly, should forbear the wedding and the bringing forth +of children? Yea, and we who may even yet have to gather to another +field before we die, and fight for life and the goods of life.’</p> +<p>‘Thou sayest well,’ she said; ‘all that hath befallen +me is good since the day whereon I loosed shaft from the break of the +bent over yonder.’</p> +<p>Therewith she fell a-musing, and made as though she were hearkening +to the soft voice of the Bride caressing the new-come baby; but in sooth +neither heard nor saw what was going on about her, for her thoughts +were in bygone days. Howbeit presently she came to herself again, +and fell to asking many questions concerning Silver-dale and the kindred, +and those who had once been thralls of the Dusky Men; and they answered +all duly, and told her the whole story of the Dale since the Day of +the Victory.</p> +<p>So Bow-may and the carles who had come with her abode for that half-month +in Silver-dale, guested in all love by the folk thereof, both the kindreds +and the poor folk. And Bow-may deemed that the Bride loved Face-of-god’s +child little less than her own, whereof she had two, a man and a woman; +and thereat was she full of joy, since she knew that Face-of-god and +the Sun-beam would be fain thereof.</p> +<p>Thereafter, when the time was come, fared Folk-might and the Bride, +and many of the elders and warriors of the Wolf and the Woodland, to +Shadowy Vale; and Dallach and the best of Rose-dale went with them, +being so bidden; and Bow-may and her following, according to the word +of the Bride. And in Shadowy Vale they met Face-of-god and Alderman +Iron-face, and the chiefs of Burgdale and the Shepherds, and many others; +and great joy there was at the meeting. And the Sun-beam remembered +the word which she spoke to Face-of-god when first he came to Shadowy +Vale, that she would be wishful to see again the dwelling wherein she +had passed through so much joy and sorrow of her younger days. +But if anyone were fain of this meeting, the Alderman was glad above +all, when he took the Bride once more in his arms, and caressed her +whom he had deemed should be a very daughter of his House.</p> +<p>Now telleth the tale of all these kindreds, to wit, the Men of Burgdale +and the Sheepcotes; and the Children of the Wolf, and the Woodlanders, +and the Men of Rose-dale, that they were friends henceforth, and became +as one Folk, for better or worse, in peace and in war, in waning and +waxing; and that whatsoever befell them, they ever held Shadowy Vale +a holy place, and for long and long after they met there in mid-autumn, +and held converse and counsel together.</p> +<p>NO MORE AS NOW TELLETH THE TALE OF THESE KINDREDS AND FOLKS, BUT +MAKETH AN ENDING.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<p>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE ROOTS OF THE MOUNTAINS ***</p> +<pre> + +******This file should be named rtmt10h.htm or rtmt10h.zip****** +Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, rtmt11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, rtmt10ah.htm + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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