THE ROOTS OF THE MOUNTAINS WHEREIN IS TOLD SOMEWHAT OF THE LIVES OFTHE MEN OF BURGDALE THEIR FRIENDS THEIR NEIGHBOURS THEIR FOEMEN ANDTHEIR FELLOWS IN ARMSBY 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 sweepsLight 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 stayAnd 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 winWith 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 streamsof a fair land there was a town or thorp in a certain valley. Thiswas well-nigh encompassed by a wall of sheer cliffs; toward the Eastand the great mountains they drew together till they went near tomeet, and left but a narrow path on either side of a stony streamthat came rattling down into the Dale: toward the river at that endthe hills lowered somewhat, though they still ended in sheer rocks;but up from it, and more especially on the north side, they swelledinto great shoulders of land, then dipped a little, and rose againinto the sides of huge fells clad with pine-woods, and cleft here andthere by deep ghylls: thence again they rose higher and steeper, andever higher till they drew dark and naked out of the woods to meetthe snow-fields and ice-rivers of the high mountains. But that wasfar away from the pass by the little river into the valley; and thesaid river was no drain from the snow-fields white and thick with thegrinding of the ice, but clear and bright were its waters that camefrom wells amidst the bare rocky heaths. 

The upper end of the valley, where it first began to open out fromthe pass, was rugged and broken by rocks and ridges of water-bornestones, but presently it smoothed itself into mere grassy swellingsand knolls, and at last into a fair and fertile plain swelling upinto a green wave, as it were, against the rock-wall whichencompassed it on all sides save where the river came gushing out ofthe strait pass at the east end, and where at the west end it poureditself out of the Dale toward the lowlands and the plain of the greatriver. 

Now the valley was some ten miles of our measure from that place ofthe rocks and the stone-ridges, to where the faces of the hills drewsomewhat anigh to the river again at the west, and then fell abackalong the edge of the great plain; like as when ye fare a-sailingpast two nesses of a river-mouth, and the main-sea lieth open beforeyou. 

Besides the river afore-mentioned, which men called the WelteringWater, there were other waters in the Dale. Near the eastern pass, entangled in the rocky ground was a deep tarn full of cold springsand about two acres in measure, and therefrom ran a stream which fellinto the Weltering Water amidst the grassy knolls. Black seemed thewaters of that tarn which on one side washed the rocks-wall of theDale; ugly and aweful it seemed to men, and none knew what laybeneath its waters save black mis-shapen trouts that few cared tobring to net or angle: and it was called the Death-Tarn. 

Other waters yet there were: here and there from the hills on bothsides, but especially from the south side, came trickles of waterthat ran in pretty brooks down to the river; and some of these sprangbubbling up amidst the foot-mounds of the sheer-rocks; some had clefta rugged and strait way through them, and came tumbling down into theDale at diverse heights from their faces. But on the north sideabout halfway down the Dale, one stream somewhat bigger than theothers, and dealing with softer ground, had cleft for itself a widerway; and the folk had laboured this way wider yet, till they had madethem a road running north along the west side of the stream. Soothto say, except for the strait pass along the river at the easternend, and the wider pass at the western, they had no other way (saveone of which a word anon) out of the Dale but such as mountain goatsand bold cragsmen might take; and even of these but few. 

This midway stream was called the Wildlake, and the way along itWildlake's Way, because it came to them out of the wood, which onthat 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 thepass, it was turned aside by the ground till it swung right up to thefeet of the Southern crags; then it turned and slowly bent roundagain northward, and at last fairly doubled back on itself before itturned again to run westward; so that when, after its second double, it had come to flowing softly westward under the northern crags, ithad cast two thirds of a girdle round about a space of land a littlebelow the grassy knolls and tofts aforesaid; and there in that fairspace between the folds of the Weltering Water stood the Thorpwhereof the tale hath told. 

The men thereof had widened and deepened the Weltering Water aboutthem, and had bridged it over to the plain meads; and athwart thethroat of the space left clear by the water they had built them astrong wall though not very high, with a gate amidst and a tower oneither side thereof. Moreover, on the face of the cliff which wasbut a stone's throw from the gate they had made them stairs andladders 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 landfrom over the hills. That tower was ancient, and therefrom the Thorphad its name and the whole valley also; and it was called Burgsteadin Burgdale. 

So long as the Weltering Water ran straight along by the northerncliffs after it had left Burgstead, betwixt the water and the cliffswas a wide flat way fashioned by man's hand. Thus was the wateragain 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 thatroad, which was easy to bar across so that no foemen might passwithout battle, and this road was called the Portway. For a longmile the river ran under the northern cliffs, and then turned intothe midst of the Dale, and went its way westward a broad streamwinding in gentle laps and folds here and there down to the out-gateof the Dale. But the Portway held on still underneath the rock-wall, till the sheer-rocks grew somewhat broken, and were cumbered withcertain screes, and at last the wayfarer came upon the break in them, and the ghyll through which ran the Wildlake with Wildlake's Waybeside it, but the Portway still went on all down the Dale and awayto the Plain-country. 

That road in the ghyll, which was neither wide nor smooth, thewayfarer into the wood must follow, till it lifted itself out of theghyll, and left the Wildlake coming rattling down by many steps fromthe east; and now the way went straight north through the woodland, ever mounting higher, (because the whole set of the land was towardthe high fells, ) but not in any cleft or ghyll. The wood itselfthereabout was thick, a blended growth of diverse kinds of trees, butmost of oak and ash; light and air enough came through their boughsto suffer the holly and bramble and eglantine and other small wood togrow together into thickets, which no man could pass without hewing away. But before it is told whereto Wildlake's Way led, it must besaid that on the east side of the ghyll, where it first began justover the Portway, the hill's brow was clear of wood for a certainspace, and there, overlooking all the Dale, was the Mote-stead of theDalesmen, marked out by a great ring of stones, amidst of which wasthe mound for the Judges and the Altar of the Gods before it. Andthis was the holy place of the men of the Dale and of other folkwhereof 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 aclearing and the dwellings of men, built of timber as may well bethought. These houses were neither rich nor great, nor was the folka mighty folk, because they were but a few, albeit body by body theywere stout carles enough. They had not affinity with the Dalesmen, and did not wed with them, yet it is to be deemed that they weresomewhat akin to them. To be short, though they were freemen, yet asregards the Dalesmen were they well-nigh their servants; for theywere but poor in goods, and had to lean upon them somewhat. Notillage they had among those high trees; and of beasts nought savesome flocks of goats and a few asses. Hunters they were, andcharcoal-burners, and therein the deftest of men, and they couldshoot well in the bow withal: so they trucked their charcoal andtheir smoked venison and their peltries with the Dalesmen for wheatand wine and weapons and weed; and the Dalesmen gave them main goodpennyworths, as men who had abundance wherewith to uphold theirkinsmen, though they were but far-away kin. Stout hands had theseWoodlanders and true hearts as any; but they were few-spoken and tothose that needed them not somewhat surly of speech and grim ofvisage: brown-skinned they were, but light-haired; well-eyed, withbut little red in their cheeks: their women were not very fair, forthey toiled like the men, or more. They were thought to be wiserthan most men in foreseeing things to come. They were much given tospells, and songs of wizardry, and were very mindful of the oldstory-lays, wherein they were far more wordy than in their dailyspeech. Much skill had they in runes, and were exceeding deft inscoring them on treen bowls, and on staves, and door-posts and roof-beams and standing-beds and such like things. Many a day when thesnow was drifting over their roofs, and hanging heavy on the tree-boughs, and the wind was roaring through the trees aloft and rattlingabout 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 longhours about the house-fire with the knife or the gouge in hand, withthe timber twixt their knees and the whetstone beside them, hearkening to some tale of old times and the days when their bannerwas abroad in the world; and they the while wheedling into growth outof the tough wood knots and blossoms and leaves and the images ofbeasts and warriors and women. 

They were called nought save the Woodland-Carles in that day, thoughtime had been when they had borne a nobler name: and their abode wascalled Carlstead. Shortly, for all they had and all they had not, for all they were and all they were not, they were well-beloved bytheir friends and feared by their foes. 

Now when Wildlake's Way was gotten to Carlstead, there was an end ofit toward the north; though beyond it in a right line the wood wasthinner, because of the hewing of the Carles. But the road itselfturned west at once and went on through the wood, till some fourmiles further it first thinned and then ceased altogether, the groundgoing down-hill all the way: for this was the lower flank of thefirst great upheaval toward the high mountains. But presently, afterthe wood was ended, the land broke into swelling downs and windingdales of no great height or depth, with a few scattered trees aboutthe hillsides, mostly thorns or scrubby oaks, gnarled and bent andkept down by the western wind: here and there also were yew-trees, and whiles the hillsides would be grown over with box-wood, but nonevery great; and often juniper grew abundantly. This then was thecountry of the Shepherds, who were friends both of the Dalesmen andthe Woodlanders. They dwelt not in any fenced town or thorp, buttheir homesteads were scattered about as was handy for water andshelter. Nevertheless they had their own stronghold; for amidmost oftheir country, on the highest of a certain down above a bottom wherea willowy stream winded, was a great earthwork: the walls thereofwere high and clean and overlapping at the entering in, and amidst ofit 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 inthe land, for nought but a very great host might win it; and thisstronghold they called Greenbury. 

These Shepherd-Folk were strong and tall like the Woodlanders, forthey were partly of the same blood, but burnt they were both ruddyand brown: they were of more words than the Woodlanders but yet notmany-worded. They knew well all those old story-lays, (and thispartly by the minstrelsy of the Woodlanders, ) but they had scantskill in wizardry, and would send for the Woodlanders, both men andwomen, to do whatso they needed therein. They were very hale andlong-lived, whereas they dwelt in clear bright air, and they mostlywent light-clad even in the winter, so strong and merry were they. They wedded with the Woodlanders and the Dalesmen both; at leastcertain houses of them did so. They grew no corn; nought but a fewpot-herbs, but had their meal of the Dalesmen; and in the summer theydrave some of their milch-kine into the Dale for the abundance ofgrass there; whereas their own hills and bents and winding valleyswere not plenteously watered, except here and there as in the bottomunder Greenbury. No swine they had, and but few horses, but of sheepvery many, and of the best both for their flesh and their wool. Yetwere they nought so deft craftsmen at the loom as were the Dalesmen, and their women were not very eager at the weaving, though theyloathed not the spindle and rock. Shortly, they were merry folkwell-beloved of the Dalesmen, quick to wrath, though it abode notlong with them; not very curious in their houses and halls, whichwere but little, and were decked mostly with the handiwork of theWoodland-Carles their guests; who when they were abiding with them, would oft stand long hours nose to beam, scoring and nicking andhammering, answering no word spoken to them but with aye or no, desiring nought save the endurance of the daylight. Moreover, thisshepherd-folk heeded not gay raiment over-much, but commonly wentclad in white woollen or sheep-brown weed. 

But beyond this shepherd-folk were more downs and more, scantilypeopled, and that after a while by folk with whom they had no kinshipor affinity, and who were at whiles their foes. Yet was there noenduring enmity between them; and ever after war and battle camepeace; 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 hadkinship, affinity, and friendship, tell we of their chief abode, Burgstead to wit, and of its fashion. As hath been told, it lay uponthe land made nigh into an isle by the folds of the Weltering Watertowards the uppermost end of the Dale; and it was warded by the deepwater, and by the wall aforesaid with its towers. Now the Dale atits widest, to wit where Wildlake fell into it, was but nine furlongsover, but at Burgstead it was far narrower; so that betwixt the walland the wandering stream there was but a space of fifty acres, andtherein lay Burgstead in a space of the shape of a sword-pommel: andthe houses of the kinships lay about it, amidst of gardens andorchards, but little ordered into streets and lanes, save that a waywent clean through everything from the tower-warded gate to thebridge over the Water, which was warded by two other towers on itshither side. 

As to the houses, they were some bigger, some smaller, as thehousemates needed. Some were old, but not very old, save two only, and some quite new, but of these there were not many: they were allbuilt fairly of stone and lime, with much fair and curious carvedwork of knots and beasts and men round about the doors; or whiles awale of such-like work all along the house-front. For as deft aswere the Woodlanders with knife and gouge on the oaken beams, even sodeft were the Dalesmen with mallet and chisel on the face of the hewnstone; and this was a great pastime about the Thorp. Within thesehouses had but a hall and solar, with shut-beds out from the hall onone side or two, with whatso of kitchen and buttery and out-bower mendeemed handy. Many men dwelt in each house, either kinsfolk, or suchas were joined to the kindred. 

Near to the gate of Burgstead in that street aforesaid and facingeast was the biggest house of the Thorp; it was one of the twoabovesaid which were older than any other. Its door-posts and thelintel of the door were carved with knots and twining stems fairerthan other houses of that stead; and on the wall beside the doorcarved over many stones was an image wrought in the likeness of a manwith 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 thesun, and at his feet was a dragon, which had crept, as it were, fromamidst of the blossomed knots of the door-post wherewith the tail ofhim was yet entwined. And this head with the ring of rays about itwas wrought into the adornment of that house, both within andwithout, in many other places, but on never another house of theDale; and it was called the House of the Face. Thereof hath the talemuch to tell hereafter, but as now it goeth on to tell of the ways oflife of the Dalesmen. 

In Burgstead was no Mote-hall or Town-house or Church, such as we wotof in these days; and their market-place was wheresoever any mightchoose to pitch a booth: but for the most part this was done in thewide street betwixt the gate and the bridge. As to a meeting-place, were there any small matters between man and man, these would theAlderman or one of the Wardens deal with, sitting in Court with theneighbours on the wide space just outside the Gate: but if it wereto do with greater matters, such as great manslayings and blood-wites, or the making of war or ending of it, or the choosing of theAlderman and the Wardens, such matters must be put off to the Folk-mote, which could but be held in the place aforesaid where was theDoom-ring and the Altar of the Gods; and at that Folk-mote both theShepherd-Folk and the Woodland-Carles foregathered with the Dalesmen, and duly said their say. There also they held their great casts andmade offerings to the Gods for the Fruitfulness of the Year, theingathering of the increase, and in Memory of their Forefathers. Natheless at Yule-tide also they feasted from house to house to beglad with the rest of Midwinter, and many a cup drank at those feaststo the memory of the fathers, and the days when the world was widerto them, and their banners fared far afield. 

But besides these dwellings of men in the field between the wall andthe water, there were homesteads up and down the Dale whereso menfound it easy and pleasant to dwell: their halls were built of muchthe same fashion as those within the Thorp; but many had a highgarth-wall cast about them, so that they might make a stout defencein their own houses if war came into the Dale. 

As to their work afield; in many places the Dale was fair with growthof trees, and especially were there long groves of sweet chestnutstanding 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 ofyew-trees very great and old, whence they gat them bow-staves, forthe Dalesmen also shot well in the bow. Much wheat and rye theyraised in the Dale, and especially at the nether end thereof. Applesand 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 theThorp and the homesteads. On the slopes that had grown from thebreaking down here and there of the Northern cliffs, and which facedthe South and the Sun's burning, were rows of goodly vines, whereofthe folk made them enough and to spare of strong wine both white andred. 

As to their beasts; swine they had a many, but not many sheep, sinceherein they trusted to their trucking with their friends theShepherds; they had horses, and yet but a few, for they were stout ingoing afoot; and, had they a journey to make with women big withbabes, or with children or outworn elders, they would yoke their oxento their wains, and go fair and softly whither they would. But thesaid oxen and all their neat were exceeding big and fair, far otherthan the little beasts of the Shepherd-Folk; they were either dun ofcolour, or white with black horns (and those very great) and blacktail-tufts and ear-tips. Asses they had, and mules for the paths ofthe mountains to the east; geese and hens enough, and dogs not a few, great hounds stronger than wolves, sharp-nosed, long-jawed, dun ofcolour, shag-haired. 

As to their wares; they were very deft weavers of wool and flax, andmade a shift to dye the thrums in fair colours; since both woad andmadder came to them good cheap by means of the merchants of the plaincountry, and of greening weeds was abundance at hand. Good smithsthey were in all the metals: they washed somewhat of gold out of thesands of the Weltering Water, and copper and tin they fetched fromthe rocks of the eastern mountains; but of silver they saw little, and iron they must buy of the merchants of the plain, who came tothem twice in the year, to wit in the spring and the late autumn justbefore the snows. Their wares they bought with wool spun and in thefleece, and fine cloth, and skins of wine and young neat both steersand heifers, and wrought copper bowls, and gold and copper by weight, for they had no stamped money. And they guested these merchantswell, for they loved them, because of the tales they told them of thePlain and its cities, and the manslayings therein, and the fall ofKings and Dukes, and the uprising of Captains. 

Thus then lived this folk in much plenty and ease of life, though notdelicately nor desiring things out of measure. They wrought withtheir hands and wearied themselves; and they rested from their toiland feasted and were merry: to-morrow was not a burden to them, noryesterday a thing which they would fain forget: life shamed themnot, nor did death make them afraid. 

As for the Dale wherein they dwelt, it was indeed most fair andlovely, and they deemed it the Blessing of the Earth, and they trodits 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 weatherwas fair, calm, and sunny, there came a man out of the wood hard bythe Mote-stead aforesaid, who sat him down at the roots of theSpeech-mound, casting down before him a roe-buck which he had justslain 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 leggingsof like stuff bound about with white leather thongs; he bore a short-sword in his girdle and a little axe withal; the sword with fairwrought 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: hisbeard was little and fine, his hair yellow and curling, cut somewhatclose, but for its length so plenteous, and so thick, that none couldfail to note it. He had no hat nor hood upon his head, nought but afillet of golden beads. 

As he sat down he glanced at the dale below him with a well-pleasedlook, and then cast his eyes down to the grass at his feet, as thoughto hold a little longer all unchanged the image of the fair place hehad just seen. The sun was low in the heavens, and his slant beamsfell yellow all up the dale, gilding the chestnut groves grown duskand grey with autumn, and the black masses of the elm-boughs, andgleaming back here and there from the pools of the Weltering Water. Down in the midmost meadows the long-horned dun kine were movingslowly as they fed along the edges of the stream, and a dog wasbounding about with exceeding swiftness here and there among them. At a sharply curved bight of the river the man could see a littlevermilion flame flickering about, and above it a thin blue veil ofsmoke hanging in the air, and clinging to the boughs of the willowsanear; about it were a dozen menfolk clear to see, some sitting, somestanding, some walking to and fro, but all in company together: fourof were brown-clad and short-skirted like himself, and from above thehand of one came a flash of light as the sun smote upon the steel ofhis spear. The others were long-skirted and clad gayer, and amongstthem were red and blue and green and white garments, and they wereclear 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 werestrolling drew nigh, and they joined hands together, and fell todancing on the grass, and the dog and another one with him came up tothe dancers and raced about and betwixt them; and so clear to seewere they all and so little, being far away, that they looked likedainty well-wrought puppets. 

The young man sat smiling at it for a little, and then rose up andshouldered his venison, and went down into Wildlake's Way, andpresently was fairly in the Dale and striding along the Portwaybeside the northern cliffs, whose greyness was gilded yet by the lastrays of the sun, though in a minute or two it would go under thewestern rim. He went fast and cheerily, murmuring to himselfsnatches of old songs; none overtook him on the road, but he overtookdivers folk going alone or in company toward Burgstead; swains andold men, mothers and maidens coming from the field and the acre, orgoing from house to house; and one or two he met but not many. Allthese greeted him kindly, and he them again; but he stayed not tospeak with any, but went as one in haste. 

It was dusk by then he passed under the gate of Burgstead; he wentstraight thence to the door of the House of the Face, and entered asone 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 andsomewhat 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 thatleapt up now and then from the smouldering brands of the hearthamidmost the hall under the luffer, that there were but three mentherein, 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 cheeryvoice: 'Ho, Kettel! Are all men gone without doors to sleep so nearthe 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, asleepI am, and have been, and dreaming; and in my dream I dealt with theflesh-pots and the cake-board, and thou shalt see my dream come truepresently to thy gain. '

Quoth another voice: 'Kettel hath had out that share of his dreamalready belike, if the saw sayeth sooth about cooks. All ye havebeen away, so belike he hath done as Rafe's dog when Rafe ran awayfrom the slain buck. '

He laughed therewith, and Kettel with him, and a third voice joinedthe laughter. The young man also laughed and said: 'Here I bringthe venison which my kinsman desired; but as ye see I have brought itover-late: but take it, Kettel. When cometh my father from thestithy?'

Quoth Kettel: 'My lord hath been hard at it shaping the Yule-tidesword, and doth not lightly leave such work, as ye wot, but he willbe here presently, for he has sent to bid us dight for supperstraightway. '

Said the young man: 'Where are there lords in the dale, Kettel, orhast thou made some thyself, that thou must be always throwing themin my teeth?'

'Son of the Alderman, ' said Kettel, 'ye call me Kettel, which is noname of mine, so why should I not call thee lord, which is no dignityof 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. Sitdown by the hearth away from their hurry, and I will fetch thee thehand-water. '

The young man sat down, and Kettel took up the venison and went hisways toward the door at the lower end of the hall; but ere he reachedit it opened, and a noisy crowd entered of men, women, boys, anddogs, some bearing great wax candles, some bowls and cups and dishesand trenchers, and some the boards for the meal. 

The young man sat quiet smiling and winking his eyes at the suddenflood of light let into the dark place; he took in without looking atthis or the other thing the aspect of his Fathers' House, so longfamiliar 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 woodwherein he had wandered all day yet hung heavy upon him. Came one ofthe girls and cast fresh brands on the smouldering fire and stirredit into a blaze, and the wax candles were set up on the dais, so thatbetween them and the mew-quickened fire every corner of the hall wasbright. As aforesaid it was long and narrow, over-arched with stoneand not right high, the windows high up under the springing of theroof-arch and all on the side toward the street; over against themwere the arches of the shut-beds of the housemates. The walls werebare that evening, but folk were wont to hang up hallings of wovenpictures thereon when feasts and high-days were toward; and all alongthe walls were the tenter-hooks for that purpose, and divers weaponsand tools were hanging from them here and there. About the daisbehind the thwart-table were now stuck for adornment leavy boughs ofoak now just beginning to turn with the first frosts. High up on thegable wall above the tenter-hooks for the hangings were carven fairimagery and knots and twining stems; for there in the hewn atone wasset forth that same image with the rayed head that was on the outsidewall, and he was smiting the dragon and slaying him; but here insidethe house all this was stained in fair and lively colours, and thesun-like rays round the head of the image were of beaten gold. Atthe lower end of the hall were two doors going into the butteries, and kitchen, and other out-bowers; and above these doors was a loftupborne by stone pillars, which loft was the sleeping chamber of thegoodman of the house; but the outward door was halfway between thesaid loft and the hearth of the hall. 

So the young man took the shoes from his feet and then sat watchingthe women and lads arraying the boards, till Kettel came again to himwith an old woman bearing the ewer and basin, who washed his feet andpoured 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 inthree men and a young woman with them; the foremost of these was aman younger by some two years than the first-comer, but so like himthat none might misdoubt that he was his brother; the next was an oldman with a long white beard, but hale and upright; and lastly came aman of middle-age, who led the young woman by the hand. He wastaller than the first of the young men, though the other who enteredwith him outwent him in height; a stark carle he was, broad acrossthe shoulders, thin in the flank, long-armed and big-handed; verynoble and well-fashioned of countenance, with a straight nose andgrey eyes underneath a broad brow: his hair grown somewhat scantywas done about with a fillet of golden beads like the young men hissons. 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, andhe was the Alderman of the Dalesmen, and well-beloved of them; hiskindred was deemed the noblest of the Dale, and long had they dweltin 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 andstout warriors had borne it aforetime: and this young man, in greatlove had he been gotten, and in much hope had he been reared, andtherefore had he been named after the best of the kindred. But hismother, who was hight the Jewel, and had been a very fair woman, wasdead now, and Iron-face lacked a wife. 

Face-of-god was well-beloved of his kindred and of all the Folk ofthe Dale, and he had gotten a to-name, and was called Gold-manebecause of the abundance and fairness of his hair. 

As for the young woman that was led in by Iron-face, she was thebetrothed of Face-of-god, and her name was the Bride. She lookedwith such eyes of love on him when she saw him in the hall, as thoughshe had never seen him before but once, nor loved him but sinceyesterday; though in truth they had grown up together and had seeneach other most days of the year for many years. She was of thekindred 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 andstrong: not easily daunted amidst perils she was hardy and handy andlight-foot: she could swim as well as any, and could shoot well inthe bow, and wield sword and spear: yet was she kind andcompassionate, and of great courtesy, and the very dogs and kinetrusted in her and loved her. Her hair was dark red of hue, long andfine and plenteous, her eyes great and brown, her brow broad and veryfair, her lips fine and red: her cheek not ruddy, yet nowise sallow, but clear and bright: tall she was and of excellent fashion, butwell-knit and well-measured rather than slender and wavering as thewillow-bough. Her voice was sweet and soft, her words few, butexceeding dear to the listener. In short, she was a woman born to bethe ransom of her Folk. 

Now as to the names which the menfolk of the Face bore, and they anancient kindred, a kindred of chieftains, it has been said that intimes past their image of the God of the Earth had over his treenface a mask of beaten gold fashioned to the shape of the image; andthat when the Alderman of the Folk died, he to wit who served the Godand 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 beenin a manner his priest, and therewith he was borne to mound; and thenew Alderman and priest had it in charge to fashion a new visor forthe God; and whereas for long this great kindred had been chieftainsof the people, they had been, and were all so named, that the wordFace 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 thenew-comers, and each of them greeted him kindly, and the Bride kissedhim on the cheek, and he her in likewise; and he looked kindly onher, 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 thekindred of the House, and was foster-father of Iron-face and of hissons both; and his name was Stone-face: a stark warrior had he beenwhen he was young, and even now he could do a man's work in thebattlefield, and his understanding was as good as that of a man inhis prime. So went these and four others up on to the dais and satdown before the thwart-table looking down the hall, for the meat wasnow on the board; and of the others there were some fifty men andwomen who were deemed to be of the kindred and sat at the endlongtables. 

So then the Alderman stood up and made the sign of the Hammer overthe meat, the token of his craft and of his God. Then they fell towith good hearts, for there was enough and to spare of meat anddrink. There was bread and flesh (though not Gold-mane's venison), and leeks and roasted chestnuts of the grove, and red-cheeked applesof the garth, and honey enough of that year's gathering, and medlarssharp and mellow: moreover, good wine of the western bents went upand down the hall in great gilded copper bowls and in mazers girt andlipped with gold. 

But when they were full of meat, and had drunken somewhat, they fellto speech, and Iron-face spake aloud to his son, who had but beenspeaking softly to the Bride as one playmate to the other: but theAlderman said: 'Scarce are the wood-deer grown, kinsman, when I mustneeds eat sheep's flesh on a Thursday, though my son has lain abroadin the woods all night to hunt for me. '

And therewith he smiled in the young man's face; but Gold-manereddened and said: 'So is it, kinsman, I can hit what I can see; butnot 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 itto 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 doI lust after their women. Moreover, I brought home a roebuck of thefattest; but I was over-late for Kettel, and the flesh was ready forthe board by then I came. '

'Well, son, ' quoth Iron-face, for he was merry, 'a roebuck is but alittle deer for such big men as are thou and I. But I rede thee takethe Bride along with thee the next time; and she shall seek whilestthou 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 outof me: that roebuck I shot at the very edge of the wood nigh to theMote-stead as I was coming home: harts had I seen in the wood andits lawns, and boars, and bucks, and loosed not at them: for indeedwhen I awoke in the morning in that wood-lawn ye wot of, I wanderedup and down with my bow unbent. So it was that I fared as if I wereseeking something, I know not what, that should fill up somethinglacking to me, I know not what. Thus I felt in myself even so longas I was underneath the black boughs, and there was none beside meand before me, and none to turn aback to: but when I came out againinto the sunshine, and I saw the fair dale, and the happy abode lyingbefore me, and folk abroad in the meads merry in the eventide; thenwas I full fain of it, and loathed the wood as an empty thing thathad nought to give me; and lo you! all that I had been longing for inthe wood, was it not in this House and ready to my hand?--and that isgood meseemeth. '

Therewith he drank of the cup which the Bride put into his hand aftershe had kissed the rim, but when he had set it down again he spakeonce more:

'And yet now I am sitting honoured and well-beloved in the House ofmy Fathers, with the holy hearth sparkling and gleaming down therebefore me; and she that shall bear my children sitting soft and kindby my side, and the bold lads I shall one day lead in battle drinkingout of my very cup: now it seems to me that amidst all this, thedark cold wood, wherein abide but the beasts and the Foes of theGods, is bidding me to it and drawing me thither. Narrow is the Daleand the World is wide; I would it were dawn and daylight, that Imight be afoot again. '

And he half rose up from his place. But his father bent his brow onhim and said: 'Kinsman, thou hast a long tongue for a half-trainedwhelp: nor see I whitherward thy mind is wandering, but if it be onthe road of a lad's desire to go further and fare worse. Hearkenthen, I will offer thee somewhat! Soon shall the West-countrymerchants be here with their winter truck. How sayest thou? hastthou a mind to fare back with them, and look on the Plain and itsCities, and take and give with the strangers? To whom indeed thoushalt be nothing save a purse with a few lumps of gold in it, ormaybe a spear in the stranger's band on the stricken field, or a bowon the wall of an alien city. This is a craft which thou mayst welllearn, since thou shalt be a chieftain; a craft good to learn, however grievous it be in the learning. And I myself have beenthere; for in my youth I desired sore to look on the world beyond themountains; so I went, and I filled my belly with the fruit of my owndesires, and a bitter meat was that; but now that it has passedthrough me, and I yet alive, belike I am more of a grown man forhaving endured its gripe. Even so may it well be with thee, son; sogo if thou wilt; and thou shalt go with my blessing, and with goldand wares and wain and spearmen. '

'Nay, ' said Face-of-god, 'I thank thee, for it is well offered; but Iwill not go, for I have no lust for the Plain and its Cities; I lovethe Dale well, and all that is round about it; therein will I liveand 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 sheforeboded some new thing, which should thrust itself into their merrylife. 

But the old man Stone-face took up the word and said:

'Son Gold-mane, it behoveth me to speak, since belike I know thewild-wood better than most, and have done for these three-score andten years; to my cost. Now I perceive that thou longest for the woodand the innermost of it; and wot ye what? This longing will atwhiles entangle the sons of our chieftains, though this Alderman thatnow is hath been free therefrom, which is well for him. For, timewas 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 howmy 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, hadit not been for the love wherewith I have loved the sons of thekindred. Therefore, son, it were not ill if ye went west away withthe 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 theirfools and their whores and their runagates. But as for the wood andits wonders, I have done with it, save for hunting there along withothers of the Folk. So let thy mind be at ease; and for the rest, Iwill do what the Alderman commandeth, and whatso my father craveth ofme. '

'And that is well, son, ' said Stone-face, 'if what ye say come topass, as sore I misdoubt me it will not. But well it were, well itwere! For such things are in the wood, yea and before ye come to itsinnermost, as may well try the stoutest heart. Therein are Kobbolds, and Wights that love not men, things unto whom the grief of men is asthe sound of the fiddle-bow unto us. And there abide the ghosts ofthose that may not rest; and there wander the dwarfs and themountain-dwellers, the dealers in marvels, the givers of gifts thatdestroy Houses; the forgers of the curse that clingeth and the murderthat flitteth to and fro. There moreover are the lairs of Wights inthe 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, thatthey may mock him therewith and waste his manhood and destroy him. Nor say I much of the strong-thieves that dwell there, since thou arta valiant sword; or of them who have been made Wolves of the HolyPlaces; or of the Murder-Carles, the remnants and off-scourings ofwicked and wretched Folks--men who think as much of the life of a manas of the life of a fly. Yet happiest is the man whom they shalltear in pieces, than he who shall live burdened by the curse of theFoes of the Gods. '

The housemaster looked on his son as the old carle spake, and a cloudgathered on his face a while; and when Stone-face had made an end hespake:

'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 setthy 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 andabroad in the wild-wood seeking marvels. '

Then arose a man of middle-age from the top of the endlong bench onthe east side of the hall: a man tall, thin and scant-haired, with anose like an eagle's neb: he reached out his hand for the bowl, andwhen they had given to him he handled it, and raised it aloft andcried:

'Here I drink a double health to Face-of-god and the Bride, and thelove that lieth between them, and the love betwixt them twain andus. '

He drank therewith, and the wine went up and down the hall, and allmen drank, both carles and queens, with shouting and great joy. ThenRedesman put down the cup (for it had come into his hands again), andreached his hand to the wall behind him, and took down his fiddlehanging 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 andlaid it on the strings till they wailed and chuckled sweetly, andwhen the song was well awake and stirring briskly, then he lifted uphis 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 bearSuch 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 aboutthe hall; and an old man arose and cried: 'A cup to the memory ofthe Mighty of the Day of the Warding of the Ways. ' For you must knowthis song told of a custom of the Folk, held in memory of a time ofbygone battle, wherein they had overthrown a great host of aliens onthe Portway betwixt the river and the cliffs, two furlongs from thegate of Burgstead. So now two weeks before Midsummer those maidenswho were presently to be wedded went early in the morning to thatplace clad in very fair raiment, swords girt to their sides andspears in their hands, and abode there on the highway from morn tilleven as though they were a guard to it. And they made merry there, singing songs and telling tales of times past: and at the sunsettingtheir grooms came to fetch them away to the Feast of the Eve of theWedding. 

While the song was a-singing Face-of-god took the Bride's hand in hisand caressed it, and was soft and blithe with her; and she reddenedand trembled for pleasure, and called to mind wedding feasts that hadbeen, and fair brides that she had seen thereat, and she forgot herfears and her heart was at peace again. 

And Iron-face looked well-pleased on the two from time to time, andsmiled, but forbore words to them. 

But up and down the hall men talked with one another about thingslong 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 thatthere was but little to tell of. So deepened the night and waned, and Gold-mane and the Bride still talked sweetly together, and atwhiles kindly to the others; and by seeming he had clean forgottenthe wood and its wonders. 

Then at last the Alderman called for the cup of good-night, and mendrank 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 thehall naked in his shirt, and stood by the hearth, wherein the piled-up embers were yet red, and looked about and could see nothingstirring in the dimness: then he fetched water and washed the night-tide off him, and clad himself in haste, and was even as he wasyesterday, save that he left his bow and quiver in their place andtook instead a short casting-spear; moreover he took a leathern scripand went therewith to the buttery, and set therein bread and fleshand a little gilded beaker; and all this he did with but littlenoise; for he would not be questioned, lest he should have to answerhimself 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 throughthe 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 notewhat way was made by the dawning, and how the sky lightened above themountain passes. 

By then he was come to the place where the Maiden Ward was held inthe summer the dawn was so far forward that all things had their duecolours, and were clear to see in the shadowless day. It was abright morning, with an easterly air stirring that drave away thehaze and dried the meadows, which had otherwise been rimy; for it wascold. Gold-mane lingered on the place a little, and his eyes fell onthe road, as dusty yet as in Redesman's song; for the autumn had beenvery dry, and the strip of green that edged the outside of the waywas 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 andblack-leaved; and right in the midst of the road were two twigs ofgreat-leaved sturdy pollard oak, as though they had been thrown asidethere yesterday by women or children a-sporting; and the deep whitedust yet held the marks of feet, some bare, some shod, crossing eachother here and there. Face-of-god smiled as he passed on, as a manwith a happy thought; for his mind showed him a picture of the Brideas she would be leading the Maiden Ward next summer, and singingfirst among the singers, and he saw her as clearly as he had oftenseen her verily, and before him was the fashion of her hands and allher body, and the little mark on her right wrist, and the place whereher arm whitened, because the sleeve guarded it against the sun, which had long been pleasant unto him, and the little hollow in herchin, and the lock of red-brown hair waving in the wind above herbrow, and shining in the sun as brightly as the Alderman's cunningestwork of golden wire. Soft and sweet seemed that picture, till healmost seemed to hear her sweet voice calling to him, and desire ofher so took hold of the youth, that it stirred him up to go swiftlieras he strode on, the day brightening behind him. 

Now was it nigh sunrise, and he began to meet folk on the way, thoughnot many; since for most their way lay afield, and not towards theBurg. The first was a Woodlander, tall and gaunt, striding besidehis ass, whose panniers were laden with charcoal. The carle'sdaughter, a little maiden of seven winters, riding on the ass's backbetwixt the panniers, and prattling to herself in the cold morning;for she was pleased with the clear light in the east, and the smoothwide turf of the meadows, as one who had not often been far from theshadow of the heavy trees of the wood, and their dark wall roundabout the clearing where they dwelt. Face-of-god gave the twain thesele of the day in merry fashion as he passed them by, and the soberdark-faced man nodded to him but spake no word, and the child stayedher prattle to watch him as he went by. 

Then came the sound of the rattle of wheels, and, as he doubled anangle 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 fursand cloths; beside the yoke-beasts went her man, a well-knit trim-faced Dalesman clad bravely in holiday raiment, girt with a goodlysword, bearing a bright steel helm on his head, in his hand a longspear 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 smilingkindly on him from out of her scarlet and fur; but now she turned aweary happy face on Gold-mane, for they knew him, as did all men ofthe Dale. 

So he stopped when they met, for the goodman had already stayed hisslow beasts, and the goodwife had risen a little on her cushions togreet 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 wastoward, and why the goodman wore his fine clothes, and why the wainwas decked with oak-boughs and the yoke-beasts with their best gildedbells and copper-adorned harness. For it was a custom with many ofthe kindreds that the goodwife should fare to her father's house tolie in with her first babe, and the day of her coming home was made agreat feast in the house. So then Face-of-god cried out: 'Hail tothee, O Warcliff! Shrewd is the wind this morning, and thou dostwell to heed it carefully, this thine orchard, this thy garden, thisthy fair apple-tree! To a good hall thou wendest, and the Wine ofIncrease shall be sweet there this even. '

Then smiled Warcliff all across his face, and the goodwife hung herhead and reddened. Said the goodman: 'Wilt thou not be with us, sonof the Alderman, as surely thy father shall be?'

'Nay, ' said Face-of-god, 'though I were fain of it: my own matterscarry me away. '

'What matters?' said Warcliff; 'perchance thou art for the citiesthis autumn?'

Face-of-god answered somewhat stiffly: 'Nay, I am not;' and thenmore 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 toknow. For then must thou needs tell me, or deal with the carle therebeside 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 theeand to the new-comer!'

Therewith he went close up to the wain, and reached out his hand toher, and she gave him hers and he kissed it, and so went his wayssmiling kindly on them. Then the carle cried to his kine, and theybent down their heads to the yoke; and presently, as he walked on, heheard the rumble of the wain mingling with the tinkling of theirbells, which in a little while became measured and musical, andsounded above the creaking of the axles and the rattle of the gearand the roll of the great wheels over the road: and so it grewthinner 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 therehad been in old time long screes from the cliff, which had now growntogether, with the waxing of herbs and the washing down of the earthon 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 itsbank was somewhat broken and steep here and there. As Face-of-godcame up to one of these broken places, the sun rose over the easternpass, 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 andlaughter of women coming up from the slope below him, and presently ayoung woman came struggling up the broken bank with hand and knee, and cast herself down on the roadside turf laughing and panting. Shewas a long-limbed light-made woman, dark-faced and black-haired:amidst her laughter she looked up and saw Gold-mane, who had stoppedat once when he saw her; she held out her hands to him, and saidlightly, though her face flushed withal:

'Come hither, thou, and help the others to climb the bank; for theyare beaten in the race, and now must they do after my will; that wasthe forfeit. '

He went up to her, and took her hands and kissed them, as was thecustom of the Dale, and said:

'Hail to thee, Long-coat! who be they, and whither away this morningearly?'

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; andour errand, all three of us, is to Burgstead, the Feast of the Wineof 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 merrilyin his face: he saluted her as he had Long-coat, and then with alaugh turned about to wait for the third; who came indeed, but aftera little while, for she had abided, hearing their voices. Her alsoGold-mane drew up, and kissed her hands, and she lay on the grass byLong-coat, but the second maiden stood up beside the young man. Shewas white-skinned and golden-haired, a very fair damsel, whereas thelast-comer was but comely, as were well-nigh all the women of theDale. 

Said Face-of-god, looking on the three: 'How comes it, maidens, thatye are but in your kirtles this sharp autumn morning? or where haveye left your gowns or your cloaks?'

For indeed they were clad but in close-fitting blue kirtles of finewool, embroidered about the hems with gold and coloured threads. 

The last-comer laughed and said: 'What ails thee, Gold-mane, to beso careful of us, as if thou wert our mother or our nurse? Yet ifthou must needs know, there hang our gowns on the thorn-bush downyonder; for we have been running a match and a forfeit; to wit, thatshe who was last on the highway should go down again and bring themup all three; and now that is my day's work: but since thou arthere, Alderman's son, thou shalt go down instead of me and fetch themup. '

But he laughed merrily and outright, and said: 'That will I not, forthere be but twenty-four hours in the day, and what between eatingand drinking and talking to fair maidens, I have enough to do inevery one of them. Wasteful are ye women, and simple is yourforfeit. 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, andthat Long-coat be the one; for she is the fleetest-footed and ablestthereto. 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 uspoor souls what thou wilt. '

Face-of-god reddened at her words, and the speaker and the last-comerlaughed; but Long-coat held her peace: she cast one very sober lookon him, and then ran lightly down the bent; he drew near the edge ofit, and watched her going; for her light-foot slimness was fair tolook on: and he noted that when she was nigh the thorn-bush whereonhung the bright-broidered gowns, and deemed belike that she was notseen, she kissed both her hands where he had kissed them erst. 

Thereat he drew aback and turned away shyly, scarce looking at theother twain, who smiled on him with somewhat jeering looks; but hebade them farewell and departed speedily; and if they spoke, it wasbut softly, for he heard their voices no more. 

He went on under the sunlight which was now gilding the outstandingstones of the cliffs, and still his mind was set upon the Bride; andhis meeting with the mother of the yet unborn baby, and with thethree women with their freshness and fairness, did somehow turn histhought the more upon her, since she was the woman who was to be hisamongst all women, for she was far fairer than any one of them; andthrough all manner of life and through all kinds of deeds would he bewith her, and know more of her fairness and kindness than any othercould: and him-seemed he could see pictures of her and of him amidstall these deeds and ways. 

Now he went very swiftly; for he was eager, though he knew not forwhat, 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 thefirst of the trees, and without making any stay set his face east andsomewhat north, that is, toward the slopes that led to the greatmountains. He said to himself aloud, as he wended the wood:'Strange! yestereven I thought much of the wood, and I set my mind onnot going thither, and this morning I thought nothing of it, and heream I amidst its trees, and wending towards its innermost. '

His way was easy at first, because the wood for a little space wasall of beech, so that there was no undergrowth, and he went lightlybetwixt the tall grey and smooth boles; albeit his heart was noughtso gay as it was in the dale amidst the sunshine. After a while thebeech-wood grew thinner, and at last gave out altogether, and he cameinto a space of rough broken ground with nought but a few scrubbyoaks and thorn-bushes growing thereon here and there. The sun washigh in the heavens now, and shone brightly down on the waste, thoughthere were a few white clouds high up above him. The rabbitsscuttled out of the grass before him; here and there he turned asidefrom a stone on which lay coiled an adder sunning itself; now andagain both hart and hind bounded away from before him, or a sounderof wild swine ran grunting away toward closer covert. But nought didhe see but the common sights and sounds of the woodland; nor did helook for aught else, for he knew this part of the woodlandindifferent well. 

He held on over this treeless waste for an hour or more, when theground began to be less rugged, and he came upon trees again, butthinly scattered, oak and ash and hornbeam not right great, withthickets of holly and blackthorn between them. The set of the groundwas still steadily up to the east and north-east, and he followed itas one who wendeth an assured way. At last before him seemed to risea wall of trees and thicket; but when he drew near to it, lo! anopening in a certain place, and a little path as if men were wont tothread the tangle of the wood thereby; though hitherto he had notedno slot of men, nor any sign of them, since he had plunged into thedeep of the beech-wood. He took the path as one who needs must, andwent his ways as it led. In sooth it was well-nigh blind, but he wasa deft woodsman, and by means of it skirted many a close thicket thathad otherwise stayed him. So on he went, and though the boughs wereclose enough overhead, and the sun came through but in flecks, hejudged that it was growing towards noon, and he wotted well that hewas growing aweary. For he had been long afoot, and the more part ofthe time on a rough way, or breasting a slope which was at whilessteep enough. 

At last the track led him skirting about an exceeding close thicketinto a small clearing, through which ran a little woodland rillamidst rushes and dead leaves: there was a low mound near theeastern side of this wood-lawn, as though there had been once adwelling 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 besidethe rill to rest him and eat and drink somewhat. Whatever thoughtshad been with him through the wood (and they been many) concerninghis House and his name, and his father, and the journey he might maketo the cities of the Westland, and what was to befall him when he waswedded, and what war or trouble should be on his hands--all this wasnow mingled together and confused by this rest amidst his weariness. He laid down his scrip, and drew his meat from it and ate what hewould, and dipping his gilded beaker into the brook, drank watersmacking of the damp musty savour of the woodland; and then his headsank back on a little mound in the short turf, and he fell asleep atonce. A long dream he had in short space; and therein were blent histhoughts of the morning with the deeds of yesterday; and othermatters long forgotten in his waking hours came back to his slumberin unordered confusion: all which made up for him pictures clear, but of little meaning, save that, as oft befalls in dreams, whateverhe was a-doing he felt himself belated. 

When he awoke, smiling at something strange in his gone-by dream, helooked 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 thinlyovercast by now, but by his wonted woodcraft he knew the whereaboutsof the sun, and that it was scant an hour after noon. He sat theretill he was wholly awake, and then drank once more of the woodlandwater; and he said to himself, but out loud, for he was fain of thesound of a man's voice, though it were but his own:

'What is mine errand hither? Whither wend I? What shall I have doneto-morrow that I have hitherto left undone? Or what manner of manshall I be then other than I am now?'

Yet though he said the words he failed to think the thought, or itleft him in a moment of time, and he thought but of the Bride and herkindness. Yet that abode with him but a moment, and again he sawhimself and those two women on the highway edge, and Long-coatlingering on the slope below, kissing his kisses on her hands; and hewas sorry that she desired him over-much, for she was a fair womanand a friendly. But all that also flowed from him at once, and hehad no thought in him but that he also desired something that helacked: and this was a burden to him, and he rose up frowning, andsaid to himself, 'Am I become a mere sport of dreams, whether I sleepor wake? I will go backward--or forward, but will think no more. '

Then he ordered his gear again, and took the path onward and upwardtoward the Great Mountains; and the track was even fainter thanbefore 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 changedbut little, and of wild things he saw only a few of those that lovethe closest covert. The ground still went up and up, though atwhiles were hollows, and steeper bents out of them again, and thehalf-blind path or slot still led past the close thickets and fallentrees, and he made way without let or hindrance. At last once morethe wood began to thin, and the trees themselves to be smaller andgnarled and ill-grown: therewithal the day was waning, and the skywas quite clear again as the afternoon grew into a fair autumnevening. 

Now the trees failed altogether, and the slope grown steeper wascovered with heather and ling; and looking up, he saw before himquite near by seeming in the clear even (though indeed they were yetfar away) the snowy peaks flushed with the sinking sun against thefrosty dark-grey eastern sky; and below them the dark rock-mountains, and below these again, and nigh to him indeed, the fells covered withpine-woods and looking like a wall to the heaths he trod. 

He stayed a little while and turned his head to look at the waywhereby he had come; but that way a swell of the oak-forest hideverything but the wood itself, making a wall behind him as the pine-wood made a wall before. There came across him then a sharp memoryof the boding words which Stone-face had spoken last night, and hefelt as if he were now indeed within the trap. But presently helaughed and said: 'I am a fool: this comes of being alone in thedark wood and the dismal waste, after the merry faces of the Dale hadswept 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 deathcome, it can but come once; and if I fear not death, what shall makeme afraid? The Gods hate me not, and will not hurt me; and they arenot ugly, but beauteous. '

Therewith he strode on again, and soon came to a place where theground sank into a shallow valley and the ling gave place to grassfor a while, and there were tall old pines scattered about, andbetwixt them grey rocks; this he passed through, climbing a steepbent out of it, and the pines were all about him now, though growingwide apart, till at last he came to where they thickened into a wood, not very close, wherethrough he went merrily, singing to himself andswinging his spear. He was soon through this wood, and came on to awide well-grassed wood-lawn, hedged by the wood aforesaid on threesides, but sloping up slowly toward the black wall of the thickerpine-wood on the fourth side, and about half a furlong overthwart andendlong. The sun had set while he was in the last wood, but it wasstill broad daylight on the wood-lawn, and as he stood there he wasware of a house under the pine-wood on the other side, built long andlow, much like the houses of the Woodland-Carles, but rougherfashioned and of unhewn trees. He gazed on it, and said aloud tohimself as his wont was:

'Marvellous! here is a dwelling of man, scarce a day's journey fromBurgstead; yet have I never heard tell of it: may happen some of theWoodland-Carles have built it, and are on some errand of huntingpeltries up in the mountains, or maybe are seeking copper and tinamong the rocks. Well, at least let us go see what manner of mendwell there, and if they are minded for a guest to-night; for fainwere I of a bed beneath a roof, and of a board with strong meat anddrink on it. '

Therewith he set forward, not heeding much that the wood he hadpassed through was hard on his left hand; but he had gone but twentypaces when he saw a red thing at the edge of the wood, and then aglitter, and a spear came whistling forth, and smote his own spear sohard close to the steel that it flew out of his hand; then came agreat 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 onceto meet his foe; but the man had the hill on his side as he rushed onwith a short-sword in his hand. Axe and sword clashed together for amoment of time, and then both the men rolled over on the grasstogether, and Face-of-god as he fell deemed that he heard the shrillcry 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 outof his hand also, while the strange man still kept a hold of hisshort-sword; and presently, though he still struggled all he could, he saw the man draw back his hand to smite with the said sword; andat that nick of time the foeman's knee was on his breast, his lefthand was doubled back behind him, and his right wrist was grippedhard in the stranger's left hand. Even therewith his ears, sharpenedby the coming death, heard the sound of footsteps and flutteringraiment drawing near; something dark came between him and the sky;there was the sound of a great stroke, and the big man loosened hisgrip and fell off him to one side. 

Face-of-god leapt up and ran to his axe and got hold of it; butturning round found himself face to face with a tall woman holding inher hand a stout staff like the limb of a tree. She was calm andsmiling, though forsooth it was she who had stricken the stroke andstayed the sword from his throat. His hand and axe dropped down tohis side when he saw what it was that faced him, and that the womanwas 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: hemight have asked the like concerning thee but a minute ago. '

'Yea, yea, ' said Gold-mane, laughing also, 'but he asked it not ofthee. '

'That is sooth, ' she said, 'but since thou hast asked me, I will tellthee that if thou slay him it will be my harm as well as his; and inmy country a man that taketh a gift is not wont to break the giver'shead with it straightway. The man is my brother, O stranger, andpresently, if thou wilt, thou mayst be eating at the same board withhim. 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 mansat up, and put his hand to his head, and quoth he:

'Angry is my sister! good it is to wear the helm abroad when sheshaketh the nut-trees. '

' Nay, ' said she, 'it is thy luck that thou wert bare-headed, elsehad I been forced to smite thee on the face. Thou churl, since whenhath it been our wont to thrust knives into a guest, who is come ofgreat kin, a man of gentle heart and fair face? Come hither andhandsel 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, moststalwarth, with dark red hair and a thin pointed beard; his nose wasstraight and fine, his eyes grey and well-opened, but somewhat fiercewithal. Yet was he in nowise evil-looking; he seemed some thirtysummers old. He was clad in a short scarlet kirtle, a goodlygarment, with a hood of like web pulled off his head on to hisshoulders: he bore a great gold ring on his left arm, and a collarof 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 overit a short gown of dark blue woollen, and she had skin shoes on herfeet. 

Now the man came up to Face-of-god, and took his hand and said: 'Ideemed thee a foe, and I may not have over-many foes alive: but itseems that thou art to be a friend, and that is well and better; soherewith 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 isnought left over to pay to any man's son. '

Said the scarlet-clad man: 'Belike by thine eyes thou art a trueman, and wilt not bewray me. Now is there no foeman here, but rathermaybe a friend both now and in time to come. ' Therewith he cast hisarms about Face-of-god and kissed him. But Face-of-god turned aboutto the woman and said: 'Is the peace wholly made?'

She shook her head and said soberly: 'Nay, thou art too fair for awoman to kiss. '

He flushed red, as his wont was when a woman praised him; yet was hisheart full of pleasure and well-liking. But she laid her hand on hisshoulder 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 wayfarerthis night. '

As she touched him there took hold of him a sweetness of pleasure hehad never felt erst, and he answered: 'I will be thy guest and notthy stranger. '

'Come then, ' she said, and took his hand in hers, so that he scarcefelt the earth under his feet, as they went all three together towardthe house in the gathering dusk, while eastward where the peaks ofthe great mountains dipped was a light that told of the rising of themoon. 

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 isjust about to do some new deed, but is not yet deep in the story; hisnew friends noted that, for they smiled each in their own way, andthe woman drew her hand away from his. Face-of-god held out hisstill as though to take hers again, and therewithal he changedcountenance and said as though he had stayed but to ask thatquestion:

'Tell me thy name, tall man; and thou, fair woman, tell me thine; forhow can we talk together else?'

The man laughed outright and said: 'The young chieftain thinks thatthis house also should be his! Nay, young man, I know what is in thythought, be not ashamed that thou art wary; and be assured! We shallhurt thee no more than thou hast been hurt. Now as to my name; thename that was born with me is gone: the name that was given me hathbeen taken from me: now I belike must give myself a name, and thatshall be Wild-wearer; but it may be that thou thyself shalt one daygive me another, and call me Guest. '

His sister gazed at him solemnly as he spoke, and Face-of-godbeholding her the while, deemed that her beauty grew and grew tillshe seemed as aweful as a Goddess; and into his mind it came thatthis over-strong man and over-lovely woman were nought mortal, andthey withal dealing with him as father and mother deal with a waywardchild: then for a moment his heart failed him, and he longed for thepeace of Burgdale, and even the lonely wood. But therewith sheturned to him and let her hand come into his again, and looked kindlyon him and said: 'And as for me, call me the Friend; the name isgood and will serve for many things. '

He looked down from her face and his eyes lighted on her hand, andwhen he noted even amid the evening dusk how fair and lovely it wasfashioned, and yet as though it were deft in the crafts that thedaughters of menfolk use, his fear departed, and the pleasure of hislonging filled his heart, and he drew her hand to him to kiss it; butshe held it back. Then he said: 'It is the custom of the Dale toall women. '

So she let him kiss her hand, heeding the kiss nothing, and saidsoberly:

'Then art thou of Burgdale, and if it were lawful to guess, I wouldsay 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 domostly call me Gold-mane. '

'It is well named, ' she said, 'and seldom wilt thou be calledotherwise, 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 asan 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 itseemed to him as if she were the fairest and the noblest of all theQueens of ancient story. 

When he was in the house he looked and saw that, rough as it waswithout it lacked not fairness within. The floor was of hard-troddenearth strewn with pine-twigs, and with here and there brown bearskinslaid on it: there was a standing table near the upper end athwartthe hall, and a days beyond that, but no endlong table. Gold-manelooked 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 loftfor a sleeping chamber dight very fairly with broidered cloths. Thehangings on the walls, though they left some places bare which werehung with fresh boughs, were fairer than any he had ever seen, sothat he deemed that they must come from far countries and the City ofCities: therein were images wrought of warriors and fair women ofold time and their dealings with the Gods and the Giants, andWondrous wights; and he deemed that this was the story of some greatkindred, and that their token and the sign of their banner must needsbe the Wood-wolf, for everywhere was it wrought in these picturedwebs. Perforce he looked long and earnestly at these fair things, for the hall was not dark yet, because the brands on the hearth wereflaming their last, and when Wild-wearer beheld him so gazing, hestood up and looked too for a moment, and then smote his right handon the hilt of his sword, and turned away and strode up and down thehall as one in angry thought. 

But the woman, even the Friend, bestirred herself for the service ofthe guest, and brought water for his hands and feet, and when she hadwashed him, bore him the wine of Welcome and drank to him and badehim drink; and he all the while was shamefaced; for it was to him asif 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 himabout the ways of the Dalesmen, and their garths, and the pasturesand growths thereof; and what temper the carles themselves were of;which were good men, which were ill, which was loved and whichscorned; no otherwise than if he had been the goodman of someneighbouring dale; and Gold-mane told him whatso he knew, for he sawno harm therein. 

After a while the outer door opened, and there came in a woman ofsome five-and-twenty winters, trimly and strongly built; short-skirted she was and clad as a hunter, with a bow in her hand and aquiver 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; themeat is well-nigh on the board. '

Then Gold-mane smiled, for he called to mind his home-coming ofyesterday. But the woman said:

'The fault is not mine; she told me of the coming guest but threehours 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; Imeddle not with meat! and for thee all jests are as bitter earnest. '

'And with thee, chief, ' she said, 'it is no otherwise; surely I ammade on thy model. '

'Thy tongue is longer, friend, ' said he; 'now tarry if thou wilt, andif the supper's service craveth thee not. '

She turned away with one keen look at Face-of-god, and departedthrough the door at the lower end of the hall. 

By this time the hall was dusk, for there were no candles there, andthe hearth-fire was but smouldering. Wild-wearer sat silent andmusing now, and Face-of-god spake not, for he was deep in wild andhappy dreams. At last the lower door opened and the fair woman cameinto the hall with a torch in either hand, after whom came thehuntress, now clad in a dark blue kirtle, and an old woman yetstraight and hale; and these twain bore in the victuals and thetable-gear. Then the three fell to dighting the board, and when itwas all ready, and Gold-mane and Wild-wearer were set down to it, andwith them the fair woman and the huntress, the old woman threw goodstore of fresh brands on the hearth, so that the light shone intoevery corner; and even therewith the outer door opened, and four moremen entered, whereof one was old, but big and stalwarth, the otherthree young: they were all clad roughly in sheep-brown weed, but hadhelms upon their heads and spears in their hands and great swordsgirt to their sides; and they seemed doughty men and ready forbattle. One of the young men cast down by the door the carcass of abig-horned mountain sheep, and then they all trooped off to the out-bower by the lower door, and came back presently fairly clad andwithout their weapons. Wild-wearer nodded to them kindly, and theysat at table paying no more heed to Face-of-god than to cast him anod for salutation. 

Then said the old woman to them: 'Well, lads, have ye been doing orsleeping?'

'Sleeping, mother, ' said one of the young men, 'as was but due afterlast night was, and to-morrow shall be. '

Said the huntress: 'Hold thy peace, Wood-wise, and let thy tonguehelp thy teeth to deal with thy meat; for this is not the talkinghour. '

'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; itis not they that shall bring thee to shame. '

Spake the third: 'What have we to do with shame here, far away fromdooms and doomers, and elders, and wardens, and guarded castles? Ifthe new man listeth to speak, let him speak; or to fight, then lethim; it shall ever be man to man. '

Then spake the old woman: 'Son Wood-wicked, hold thy peace, andforget the steel that ever eggeth thee on to draw. '

Therewith she set the last matters on the board, while the threeswains sat and eyed Gold-mane somewhat fiercely, now that words hadstirred them, and he had sat there saying nothing, as one who wasbetter 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 ofthe Dale, who hath sought the wood in peace, and hath found us. Hishand is ready and his heart is guileless: if ye fear him, run awayto the wood, and come back when he is gone; but none shall mock himwhile I sit by: now, lads, be merry and blithe with the guest. '

Then the young men greeted Gold-mane, and the old man said: 'Artthou of Burgstead? then wilt thou be of the House of the Face, andthy name will be Face-of-god; for that man is called the fairest ofthe 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 mannerof man I be: that were ill husbandry. But now I have heard thenames of the three swains, tell me thy name, father!'

Spake the huntress: 'This is my father's brother, and his name isWood-father; or ye shall call him so: and I am called Bow-maybecause I shoot well in the bow: and this old carline is my eme'swife, and now belike my mother, if I need one. But thou, fair-facedDalesman, little dost thou need a mirror in the Dale so long as womenabide there; for their faces shall be instead of mirrors to tell theewhether thou be fair and lovely. '

Thereat they all laughed and fell to their victual, which wasabundant, of wood-venison and mountain-fowl, but of bread was nogreat plenty; wine lacked not, and that of the best; and Gold-manenoted that the cups and the apparel of the horns and mazers were notof 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, andspake much with her, and he deemed her friendly indeed, and sheseemed 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 washe as a man striving to be courteous and blithe; but of the othersBow-may was the greatest speaker. 

Wild-wearer called healths to the Sun, and the Moon, and the Hosts ofHeaven; to the Gods of the Earth; to the Woodwights; and to theGuest. Other healths also he called, the meaning of which was darkto Gold-mane; to wit, the Jaws of the Wolf; the Silver Arm; the RedHand; the Golden Bushel; and the Ragged Sword. But when he asked theFriend concerning these names what they might signify, she shook herhead and answered not. 

At last Wild-wearer cried out: 'Now, lads, the night weareth and theguest 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, andtook from out of it a fiddle in its case; and he opened the case anddrew from it a very goodly fiddle, and he stood on the floor amidstof the hall and Bow-may his cousin with him; and he laid his bow onthe fiddle and woke up song in it, and when it was well awake shefell a-singing, and he to answering her song, and at the last allthey of the house sang together; and this is the meaning of the wordswhich 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 bearThe 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 wellknown. 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 athrostle matched against thy new-come guest. Therefore, Dalesman, sing us a song of the Dale, and if ye will, let it be of gardens andpleasant houses of stone, and fair damsels therein, and swains withthem who toil not over-much for a scant livelihood, as do they of thewaste, whose heads may not be seen in the Holy Places. '

Said Gold-mane: 'Father, it is ill to set the words of a lonely manafar from his kin against the song that cometh from the heart of anoble house; yet may I not gainsay thee, but will sing to thee what Imay call to mind, and it is called the Song of the Ford. '

Therewith he sang in a sweet and clear voice: and this is themeaning 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 tellThe 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 thesong was sweet. Yet did Wild-wearer smile somewhat; and Bow-may saidoutright: 'Soft is the song, and hath been made by lads andminstrels rather than by warriors. '

'Nay, kinswoman, ' said Wood-father, 'thou art hard to please; theguest is kind, and hath given us that I asked for, and I give him allthanks therefor. '

Face-of-god smiled, but he heeded little what they said, for as hesang he had noted that the Friend looked kindly on him; and hethought he saw that once or twice she put out her hand as if to touchhim, but drew it back again each time. She spake after a little andsaid:

'Here now hath been a stream of song running betwixt the Mountain andthe Dale even as doth a river; and this is good to come between ourdreams of what hath been and what shall be. ' Then she turned toGold-mane, and said to him scarce loud enough for all to hear:

'Herewith I bid thee good-night, O Dalesman; and this other word Ihave to thee: heed not what befalleth in the night, but sleep thybest, for nought shall be to thy scathe. And when thou wakest in themorning, if we are yet here, it is well; but if we are not, thenabide us no long while, but break thy fast on the victual thou wiltfind upon the board, and so depart and go thy ways home. And yetthou 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. Andwhen she was gone, once more he had a deeming of her that she was ofthe kindred of the Gods. At her departure him-seemed that the hallgrew dull and small and smoky, and the night seemed long to him anddoubtful 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 overagainst the outer door and toward the lower end of the hall, and onthe panel about it hung the weapons and shields of men. Fair wasthat 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; butwithin a while (he deemed about two hours after midnight) he wasawaked by the clattering of the weapons against the panel, and thesound 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 notso much as turn himself toward the hall; for he said: 'Belike thesemen are outlaws and Wolves of the Holy Places, yet by seeming theyare good fellows and nought churlish, nor have I to do with taking upthe feud against them. I will abide the morning. Yet meseemeth thatshe drew me hither: for what cause?'

Therewith he fell asleep again, and dreamed no more. But when heawoke the sun was shining broad upon the hall-floor, and he sat upand listened, but could hear no sound save the moaning of the wind inthe pine-boughs and the chatter of the starlings about the gables ofthe house; and the place seemed so exceeding lonely to him that hewas in a manner feared by that loneliness. 

Then he arose and clad himself, and went forth into the hall andgazed about him, and at first he deemed indeed that there was no onetherein. But at last he looked and beheld the upper gable and thereunderneath a most goodly hanging was the glorious shape of a womansitting on a bench covered over with a cloth of gold and silver; andhe looked and looked to see if the woman might stir, and if she werealive, 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. Fornow he doubted whether the other folk were aught save shows andshadows, and she the Goddess who had fashioned them out of nothingfor his bewilderment, presently to return to nothing. 

Yet whatever he might fear or doubt, he went up the hall towards hertill he was quite nigh to her, and there he stood silent, wonderingat her beauty and desiring her kindness. 

Grey-eyed she was like her brother; but her hair the colour of redwheat: her lips full and red, her chin round, her nose fine andstraight. Her hands and all her body fashioned exceeding sweetly anddelicately; yet not as if she were an image of which the like mightbe found if the craftsman were but deft enough to make a perfectthing, but in such a way that there was none like to her for thosethat had eyes to behold her as she was; and none could ever be madelike to her, even by such a master-craftsman as could fashion a bodywithout a blemish. 

She was clad in a white smock, whose hems were broidered with goldwire and precious gems of the Mountains, and over that a gown wovenof gold and silver: scarce hath the world such another. On her headwas a fillet of gold and gems, and there were wondrous gold rings onher arms: her feet lay bare on the dark grey wolf-skin that wasstretched before her. 

She smiled kindly upon his solemn and troubled face, and her voicesounded strangely familiar to him coming from all that loveliness, asshe said: 'Hail, Face-of-god! here am I left alone, although Ideemed last night that I should be gone with the others. Therefoream 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, yetare we not of thralls' blood. But come now, I bid thee break thyfast and talk with me a little while; and then shalt thou depart inpeace. '

Spake Face-of-god, and his voice trembled as he spake: 'What artthou? Last night I deemed at whiles once and again that thou wert ofthe 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 neverlived, I cannot but deem that it is even so, and that thou comestfrom the City that shall never perish. Now if thou be a goddess, Ihave nought to pray thee, save to slay me speedily if thou hast amind for my death. But if thou art a woman--'

She broke in: 'Gold-mane, stay thy prayer and hold thy peace forthis time, lest thou repent when repentance availeth not. And this Isay because I am none of the Gods nor akin to them, save far offthrough the generations, as art thou also, and all men of goodlykindred. Now I bid thee eat thy meat, since 'tis ill talking betwixta full man and a fasting; and I have dight it myself with mine ownhands; for Bow-may and the Wood-mother went away with the rest threehours before dawn. Come sit and eat as thou hast a hardy heart; asforsooth thou shouldest do if I were a very goddess. Take heed, friend, lest I take thee for some damsel of the lower Dale arrayed inEarl's garments. '

She laughed therewith, and leaned toward him and put forth her handto him, and he took it and caressed it; and the exceeding beauty ofher body and of the raiment which was as it were a part of her andher loveliness, made her laughter and her friendly words strange tohim, as if one did not belong to the other; as in a dream it mightbe. Nevertheless he did as she bade him, and sat at the board andate, while she leaned forward on the arm of her chair and spake tohim in friendly wise. And he wondered as she spake that she knew somuch of him and his: and he kept saying to himself: 'She drew mehither; wherefore did she so?'

But she said: 'Gold-mane, how fareth thy father the Alderman? is heas 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 theways of the outer world?'

'Yea, ' said he. 

She said: 'Thou wert wise to naysay that offer; thou shalt haveenough 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 brotherHall-face, how fareth he?'

'Well;' said he, 'to my deeming he is the Sword of our House, and theWarrior of the Dale, if the days were ready for him. '

'And Stone-face, that stark ancient, ' she said, 'doth he still lovethe Folk of the Dale, and hate all other folks?'

'Nay, ' he said, 'I know not that, but I know that he loveth as, andabove all me and my father. '

Again she spake: 'How fareth the Bride, the fair maid to whom thouart affianced?'

As she spake, it was to him as if his heart was stricken cold; but heput a force upon himself, and neither reddened nor whitened, norchanged countenance in any way; so he answered:

'She was well the eve of yesterday. ' Then he remembered what shewas, and her beauty and valour, and he constrained himself to say:'Each day she groweth fairer; there is no man's son and no daughterof woman that does not love her; yea, the very beasts of field andfold love her. '

The Friend looked at him steadily and spake no word, but a red flushmounted to her cheeks and brow and changed her face; and he marvelledthereat; for still he misdoubted that she was a Goddess. But itpassed away in a moment, and she smiled and said:

'Guest, thou seemest to wonder that I know concerning thee and theDale and thy kindred. But now shalt thou wot that I have been in theDale once and again, and my brother oftener still; and that I haveseen thee before yesterday. '

'That is marvellous, ' quoth he, 'for sure am I that I have not seenthee. '

'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 perchanceremember a day of last summer when there was a market holden inBurgstead; and there stood in the way over against the House of theFace 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 beseen; by the token that she had a large stone of mountain blue set insilver stuck in the said coif?'

As she spoke she set her hand to her bosom and drew something fromit, and held forth her hand to Gold-mane, and lo amidst the palm thegreat blue stone set in silver. 

'Wondrous as a dream is this, ' said Face-of-god, 'for these twain Iremember 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 bigcarle; but ever on the queen were his eyes set, and presently he putforth his hand to her to clip her, whereon the big carle hove up hisfist and smote him, so that he fell to earth noseling. Then ran thefolk together to hale off the stranger and help the shepherd, and itwas like that the stranger should be mishandled. Then there thrustthrough the press a young man with yellow hair and grey eyes, whocried out, "Fellows, let be! The stranger had the right of it; thisis no matter to make a quarrel or a court case of. Let the market goon! This man and maid are true folk. " So when the folk heard theyoung man and his bidding, they forebore and let the carle and thequeen be, and the shepherd went his ways little hurt. Now then, whowas this young man?'

Quoth Gold-mane: 'It was even I, and meseemeth it was no great deedto do. '

'Yea, ' she said, 'and the big carle was my brother, and the tallqueen, it was myself. '

'How then, ' said he, 'for she was as dark-skinned as a dwarf, andthou so bright and fair?'

She said: 'Well, if the woods are good for nothing else, yet arethey 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'salso. And it showed the darker beneath the white coif. '

'Yea, ' said he, 'but why must ye needs fare in feigned shapes? Yewould 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 thatthy 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 bemade 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 inthe wild-woods. Many uncouth things are therein. Moreover, I musttell thee of my brother that whiles he is as the stalled bull latelet loose, and nothing is good to him save battle and onset; and thenis he blind and knows not friend from foe. ' Said Face-of-god: 'Thouhast 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 gonot thither to-day: for who knoweth what thou shalt meet there thatshall be thy foe?'

He said: 'Nay, nay; I have nought to do but to abide here as long asI may, looking upon thee and hearkening to thy voice. '

Her eyes were upon his, but yet she did not seem to see him, and fora while she answered not; and still he wondered that mere wordsshould come from so fair a thing; for whether she moved foot, orhand, or knee, or turned this way or that, each time she stirred itwas a caress to his very heart. 

He spake again: 'May I not abide here a while? What scathe may bein 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 fromthe 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 theefarewell. '

Therewith she arose and he also perforce, and when they came to thedoorway she stepped across the threshold and then turned back andgave him her hand and so led him forth, the sun flashing back fromher golden raiment. Together they went over the short grey grass ofthat hillside till they came to the place where he had arisen fromthat 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 theehither once more?'

'Hearken, ' she said, 'autumn is now a-dying into winter: let winterand its snows go past: nor seek to me hither; for me thou should'stnot find, but thy death thou mightest well fall in with; and I wouldnot that thou shouldest die. When winter is gone, and spring is onthe land, if thou hast not forgotten us thou shalt meet us again. Yet shalt thou go further than this Woodland Hall. In Shadowy Valeshalt thou seek to me then, and there will I talk with thee. '

'And where, ' said he, 'is Shadowy Vale? for thereof have I neverheard tell. '

She said: 'The token when it cometh to thee shall show thee thereofand 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 befallenthee on the Mountain, so do, and repent it once only, that is, thylife long. '

'Why should I say any word thereof?' said he. 'Dost thou not knowthe sweetness of such a tale untold?'

He spake as one who is somewhat wrathful, and she answered humbly andkindly:

'Well is that. Bide thou the token that shall lead thee to ShadowyVale. Farewell now. '

She drew her hand from his, and turned and went her ways swiftly tothe house: he could not choose but gaze on her as she wentglittering-bright and fair in that grey place of the mountains, tillthe dark doorway swallowed up her beauty. Then he turned away andtook the path through the pine-woods, muttering to himself as hewent:

'What thing have I done now that hitherto I had not done? Whatmanner 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, payinglittle heed to the things about him. For whatever he thought ofstrayed not one whit from the image of the Fair Woman of theMountain-side. 

He went through the wood swiftlier than yesterday, and made no stayfor noon or aught else, nor did he linger on the road when he wascome 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 manwithin 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 andshe him again. He bade her bring the washing-water, and she did soand washed his feet and his hands. She was a fair maid enough, aswere most in the Dale, but he heeded her little; and when she wasdone he kissed not her cheek for her pains, as his wont was, but lether go her ways unthanked. But he went to his shut-bed and openedhis 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 collarwith gems of price therein, and other braveries. And when he was soattired he came out into the hall, and there was old Stone-facestanding 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 wearsuch attire, save on the feasts and high days when he behoved to. Sothe old man smiled and said:

'Welcome back from the Wood! But what is it? Hast thou been weddedthere, or who hath made thee Earl and King?'

Said Face-of-god: 'Foster-father, sooth it is that I have been tothe 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 amweary withal, and this kirtle is light and easy to me. Moreover, Ilook to see the Bride here again, and I would pleasure her with thesight of gay raiment upon me. '

'Nay, ' said Stone-face, 'hast thou not seen some woman in the woodarrayed like the image of a God? and hath she not bidden thee thus toworship 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 lookto see the Westland merchants: after all, wilt thou not go hencewith them when they wend their ways back before the first snowsfall?'

'Nay, ' said he, 'I have no mind to it, fosterer; cease egging me onhereto. '

Then Stone-face shook his head again, and looked on him long, andmuttered: 'To the wood wilt thou go to-morrow or next day; or someday when doomed is thine undoing. '

Therewith entered the service and torches, and presently after camethe Alderman with Hall-face; and Iron-face greeted his son and saidto him: 'Thou hast not hit the time to do on thy gay raiment, forthe Bride will not be here to-night; she bideth still at the Feast atthe Apple-tree House: or wilt thou be there, son?'

'Nay, ' said Face-of-god, 'I am over-weary. And as for my raiment, itis 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 thePlain and the Cities: 'For, ' said he, 'the morrow of to-morrow shallthe merchants be here, and this were great news for them if the sonof the Alderman should be their faring-fellow back. '

But Face-of-god answered without any haste or heat: 'Nay, father, itmay not be: fear not, thou shalt see that I have a good will to workand live in the Dale. '

And in good sooth, though he was a young man and loved mirth and theways of his own will, he was a stalwarth workman, and few could mow amatch with him in the hay-month and win it; or fell trees ascertainly and swiftly, or drive as straight and clean a furrowthrough the stiff land of the lower Dale; and in other matters alsowas 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 gostraight to the sticks that would quarter best for bow-staves;whereas the Alderman had the right of hewing in that wood. So theywent forth, those brethren, from the House of the Face, but when theywere gotten to the gate, who should be there but the Bride awaitingthem, and she with an ass duly saddled for bearing the yew-sticks. Because Hall-face had told her that he and belike Gold-mane weregoing to hew in the wood, and she thought it good to be of thecompany, 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 sawhow fair she was, and how kind and friendly were her eyes that beheldhim, 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 heras she did him, and he said within himself:

'Would that she had been of our nighest kindred! Would that I hadhad a sister and that this were she!'

So the three went along the highway down the Dale, and Hall-face andthe Bride talked merrily together and laughed, for she was happy, since she knew that Gold-mane had been to the wood and was back safeand much as he had been before. So indeed it seemed of him; forthough at first he was moody and of few words, yet presently hecursed himself for a mar-sport, and so fell into the talk, andenforced himself to be merry; and soon he was so indeed; for hethought: 'She drew me thither: she hath a deed for me to do. Ishall do the deed and have my reward. Soon will the spring-tide behere, and I shall be a young man yet when it comes. '

So came they to the place where he had met the three maidensyesterday; there they also turned from the highway; and as they wentdown the bent, Gold-mane could not but turn his eyes on the beauty ofthe Bride and the lovely ways of her body: but presently heremembered all that had betid, and turned away again as one who isnoting what it behoves him not to note. And he said to himself:'Where art thou, Gold-mane? Whose art thou? Yea, even if that hadbeen but a dream that I have dreamed, yet would that this fair womanwere my sister!'

So came they to the Yew-wood, and the brethren fell to work, and theBride 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 redwine of the Dale. And while they were resting after their meat, theBride sang to them, and her song was a lay of time past; and here yehave 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 nightThey 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 abideFor 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 abideFor 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 spreadingwide before her, and a robin came nigh from out of a thorn-bush andsung his song also, the sweet herald of coming winter; and thelapwings wheeled about, black and white, above the meadow by theriver, sending forth their wheedling pipe as they hung above the softturf. 

She felt the brothers near her, and knew their friendliness from ofold, and she was happy; nor had she looked closer at Gold-mane wouldshe have noted any change in him belike; for the meat and the goodwine, and the fair sunny time, and the Bride's sweet voice, and theancient song softened his heart while it fed the desire therein. 

So in a while they arose from their rest and did what was left themof their work, and so went back to Burgstead through the fairafternoon; by seeming all three in all content. But yet Gold-mane, as from time to time he looked upon the Bride, kept saying tohimself: 'O if she had been but my sister! sweet had the kinshipbeen!'

CHAPTER X. NEW TIDINGS IN THE DALE

It was three days thereafter that Gold-mane, leading an ass, wentalong the highway to fetch home certain fleeces which were needed forthe house from a stead a little west of Wildlake; but he had gonescant half a mile ere he fell in with a throng of folk going toBurgstead. They were of the Shepherds; they had weapons with them, and some were clad in coats of fence. They went along making a greatnoise, for they were all talking each to each at the same time, andseemed very hot and eager about some matter. When they saw Gold-maneanigh, they stopped, and the throng opened as if to let him intotheir midmost; so he mingled with them, and they stood in a ringabout him and an old man more ill-favoured than it was the wont ofthe Dalesmen to be. 

For he was long, stooping, gaunt and spindle-shanked, his hands bigand crippled with gout: his cheeks were red after an old man'sfashion, covered with a crimson network like a pippin; his lips thinand 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 whomthe kindreds had in small esteem, and that for good reasons. 

Face-of-god knew him at once for a notable close-fist and starve-allfool of the Shepherds; and his name was now become Penny-thumb theLean, 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 notthat they be bloody. What is it, goodman Penny-thumb?'

Penny-thumb did but groan for all answer; but a stout carle who stoodby with a broad grin on his face answered and said:

'Face-of-god, evil tidings be abroad; the strong-thieves of the woodare 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 othersto scatter; we make meat for others' mouths. '

The carle laughed: 'Sooth is that, ' said he, 'that there is littlegear therein now; for the strong-thieves have voided both hall andbower and byre. '

'And when was that?' said Face-of-god. 

'The night before last night, ' said the carle, 'the door was smittenon, 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 hissister and his sister's son, and three carles that work for him; andone of them, Rusty to wit, was the worst man of the hill-country. These then the host whereof the goodman telleth bound, but withoutdoing them any scathe; and they ransacked the house, and took awaymuch 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, andanother man said: 'Well, neighbour Penny-thumb, if it was so little, thou hast done unneighbourly in giving us such a heap of troubleabout it. '

And they laughed again, but the first carle said: 'True it is, goodman, that thou wert exceeding eager to raise the hue and cryafter that little when we happed upon thee and thy housemates boundin your chairs yesterday morning. Well, Alderman's son, short is thetale to tell: we could not fail to follow the gear, and the slot ledus into the wood, and ill is the going there for us shepherds, whoare used to the bare downs, save Rusty, who was a good woodsman andlifted the slot for us; so he outwent us all, and ran out of sight ofus, so presently we came upon him dead-slain, with the manslayer'sspear in his breast. What then could we do but turn back again, fornow was the wood blind now Rusty was dead, and we knew not whither tofollow the fray; and the man himself was but little loss: so back weturned, and told goodman Penny-thumb of all this, for we had left himalone in his hall lamenting his gear; so we bided to-day's morn, andhave come out now, with our neighbour and the spear, and the deadcorpse of Rusty. Stand aside, neighbours, and let the Alderman's sonsee 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 blackcloth. 

'Yea, Face-of-god, ' said the carle, 'he is not good to see now he isdead, yet alive was he worser: but, look you, though the man was nogood man, yet was he of our people, and the feud is with us; so wewould see the Alderman, and do him to wit of the tidings, that he maycall the neighbours together to seek a blood-wite for Rusty andatonement 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 itto 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 willtell 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 theshaft; but this head, daintily is it wrought, the blood-trench asclean and trim as though it were an Earl's sword. See you withalthis inlaying of runes on the steel? It is done with no tin orcopper, but with very silver; and these bands about the shaft be ofsilver also. It is a fair weapon, and the owner hath a loss of itgreater than his gain in the slaying of Rusty; and he will have leftit in the wound so that he might be known hereafter, and that hemight be said not to have murdered Rusty but to have slain him. Orhow think ye?'

They all said that this seemed like to be; but that if the man whohad 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 timewas a Court held, and a finding uttered, and outlawry given forth forthe manslaying and the ransacking against certain men unknown. Asfor the spear, it was laid up in the House of the Face. 

But Face-of-god pondered these matters in his mind, for suchransackings there had been none of in late years; and he said tohimself that his friends of the Mountain must have other folk, ofwhich the Dalesmen knew nought, whose gear they could lift, or howcould they live in that place. And he marvelled that they shouldrisk drawing the Dalesmen's wrath upon them; whereas they of the Dalewere strong men not easily daunted, albeit peaceable enough if notstirred to wrath. For in good sooth he had no doubt concerning thatspear, whose it was and whence it came: for that very weapon hadbeen leaning against the panel of his shut-bed the night he slept onthe Mountain, and all the other spears that he saw there were more orless of the same fashion, and adorned with silver. 

Albeit all that he knew, and all that he thought of, he kept in hisown heart and said nothing of it. 

So wore the autumn into early winter; and the Westland merchants camein due time, and departed without Face-of-god, though his father madehim that offer one last time. He went to and fro about his work inthe Dale, and seemed to most men's eyes nought changed from what hehad been. But the Bride noted that he saw her less often than hiswont was, and abode with her a lesser space when he met her; and shecould not think what this might mean; nor had she heart to ask himthereof, though she was sorry and grieved, but rather withdrew hercompany from him somewhat; and when she perceived that he noted itnot, 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 thenorth-east, so that no man stirred abroad who was not compelledthereto, and those who went abroad risked life and limb thereby. Next morning all was calm again, and the snow was deep, but it didnot endure long, for the wind shifted to the southwest and the thawcame, and three days after, when folk could fare easily again up anddown the Dale, came tidings to Burgstead and the Alderman from theLower Dale, how a house called Greentofts had been ransacked there, and none knew by whom. Now the goodman of Greentofts was littleloved of the neighbours: he was grasping and overbearing, and hadoften cowed others out of their due: he was very cross-grained, bothat home and abroad: his wife had fled from his hand, neither did hissons find it good to abide with him: therewithal he was wealthy ofgoods, a strong man and a deft man-at-arms. When his sons and hiswife departed from him, and none other of the Dalesmen cared to abidewith him, he went down into the Plain, and got thence men to be withhim for hire, men who were not well seen to in their own land. Theseto the number of twelve abode with him, and did his bidding whenso itpleased them. Two more had he had who had been slain by good men ofthe Dale for their masterful ways; and no blood-wite had been paidfor them, because of their ill-doings, though they had not been madeoutlaws. This man of Greentofts was called Harts-bane after hisfather, who was a great hunter. 

Now the full tidings of the ransacking were these: The storm begantwo hours before sunset, and an hour thereafter, when it was quitedark, for without none could see because the wind was at its heightand 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 thedimness (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 metby swords and axes, and they saw that the seeming wolves were menwith wolf-skins drawn over them. So the new-comers cowed them thatthey threw down their weapons, and were bound in their places; butwhen they were bound, and had had time to note who the ransackerswere, they saw that there were but six of them all told, who hadcowed and bound Harts-bane and his twelve masterful men; and thisthey deemed a great shaming to them, as might well be. 

So then the stead was ransacked, and those wolves took away what theywould, and went their ways through the fierce storm, and none couldtell whether they had lived or died in it; but at least neither themen nor their prey were seen again; nor did they leave any slot, fornext morning the snow lay deep over everything. 

No doubt had Gold-mane but that these ransackers were his friends ofthe Mountain; but he held his peace, abiding till the winter shouldbe over. 

CHAPTER XI. MEN MAKE OATH AT BURGSTEAD ON THE HOLY BOAR

A week after the ransacking at Greentofts the snow and the wintercame on in earnest, and all the Dale lay in snow, and men went onskids when they fared up and down the Dale or on the Mountain. 

All was now tidingless till Yule over, and in Burgstead was therefeasting and joyance enough; and especially at the House of the Facewas high-tide holden, and the Alderman and his sons and Stone-faceand all the kindred and all their men sat in glorious attire withinthe hall; and many others were there of the best of the kindreds ofBurgstead who had been bidden. 

Face-of-god sat between his father and Stone-face; and he looked upand down the tables and the hall and saw not the Bride, and his heartmisgave him because she was not there, and he wondered what hadbefallen and if she were sick of sorrow. 

But Iron-face beheld him how he gazed about, and he laughed; for hewas exceeding merry that night and fared as a young man. Then hesaid 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. Callher 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 thehall still, as though his mind strayed from the place and that homeof his. 

Said Iron-face: 'Have patience, son, thou shalt see her anon, andthat in such guise as shall please thee. '

Therewithal came the maidens with the ewers of wine, and they filledall horns and beakers, and then stood by the endlong tables on eitherside laughing and talking with the carles and the older women; andthe hall was a fair sight to see, for the many candles burned brightand the fire on the hearth flared up, and those maids were clad infair raiment, and there was none of them but was comely, and somewere fair, and some very fair: the walls also were hung with goodlypictured cloths, and the image of the God of the Face looked downsmiling terribly from the gable-end above the high-seat. 

Thus as they sat they heard the sound of a horn winded close outsidethe hall door, and the door was smitten on. Then rose Iron-facesmiling merrily, and cried out:

'Enter ye, whether ye be friends or foes: for if ye be foemen, yetshall ye keep the holy peace of Yule, unless ye be the foes of allkindreds and nations, and then shall we slay you. '

Thereat some who knew what was toward laughed; but Gold-mane, who hadbeen away from Burgstead some days past, marvelled and knit hisbrows, 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 wasone 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 pieceof rich cloth, and the seventh stood before them all wrapped up in adark 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: forindeed he was somewhat out of himself for doubt and longing, elsewould 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 along blast; while the first of the new-comers set hand to the claspsof the fur cloak and let it fall to the ground, and lo! a womanexceeding beauteous, clad in glistering raiment of gold and fine web;her hair wreathed with bay, and in her hand a naked sword withgoodly-wrought golden hilt and polished blue-gleaming blade. 

Face-of-god started up in his sear, and stared like a man new-wakenedfrom a strange dream: because for one moment he deemed verily thatit was the Woman of the Mountain arrayed as he had last seen her, andhe cried aloud 'The Friend, the Friend!'

His father brake out into loud laughter thereat, and clapped his sonon the shoulder and said: 'Yea, yea, lad, thou mayst well say theFriend; for this is thine old playmate whom thou hast been lookinground the hall for, arrayed this eve in such fashion as is meet forher 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 downin his place again: for now he wotted what was toward, and saw thatthis 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 thehall, and the sweet odour of her raiment went from her about thefire-warmed dwelling, and her beauty moved all hearts with love. Sostood she at the high-table; and those two who bore the burden set itdown thereon and drew off the covering, and lo! there was the HolyBoar of Yule on which men were wont to make oath of deeds that theywould do in the coming year, according to the custom of theirforefathers. Then the Bride laid the goodly sword beside the dish, and then went round the table and sat down betwixt Face-of-god andStone-face, and turned kindly to Gold-mane, and was glad; for now washis fair face as its wont was to be. He in turn smiled upon her, forshe 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 oneach side stood the two hornsmen: then these blew up again, whereonthe Alderman stood up and cried:

'Ye sons of the brave who have any deed that ye may be desirous ofdoing, come up, come lay your hand on the sword, and the point of thesword to the Holy Beast, and swear the oath that lieth on yourhearts. '

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 andlaid its point on the Boar, and said:

'I am Bristler, son of Brightling, a man of the Shepherds. Here bythe Holy Boar I swear to follow up the ransackers of Penny-thumb andthe slayers of Rusty. And I take this feud upon me, although they beno good men, because I am of the kin and it falleth to me, sinceothers forbear; and when the Court was hallowed hereon I was away outof the Dale and the Downs. So help me the Warrior, and the God ofthe Earth. '

Then the Alderman nodded his head to him kindly, and reached him outa cup of wine, and as he drank there went up a rumour of praise fromthe hall; and men said that his oath was manly and that he was liketo 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 sworeto help Bristler in his feud, and men thought it well sworn. 

After that came a braggart, a man very gay of his raiment, and sworewith many words that if he lived the year through he would be acaptain over the men of the Plain, and would come back again withmany gifts for his friends in the Dale. This men deemed foolishlysworn, for they knew the man; so they jeered at him and laughed as hewent back to his place ashamed. 

Then swore three others oaths not hard to be kept, and men laughedand 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 dayslittle is the story, and little it availeth to swear a deed ofderring-do: yet three things I swear by this Beast; and first togainsay no man's asking if I may perform it; and next to set rightabove law and mercy above custom; and lastly, if the days change andwar cometh to us or we go to meet it, I will be no backwarder in theonset than three fathoms behind the foremost. So help me theWarrior, and the God of the Face and the Holy Earth!'

Therewith he sat down, and all men shouted for joy of him, and saidthat it was most like that he would keep his oath. 

Last of all uprose Face-of-god and took up the sword and looked atit; and so bright was the blade that he saw in it the image of thegolden braveries which the Bride bore, and even some broken image ofher 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 yearis worn to an end; and that whether the Dalesmen gainsay me or themen beyond the Dale. So help me the Warrior, and the God of the Faceand the Holy Earth!'

Therewith he sat down; and once more men shouted for the love of himand of the Bride, and they said he had sworn well and like achieftain. 

But the Bride noted him that neither were his eyes nor his voice liketo their wont as he swore, for she knew him well; and thereat was sheill at ease, for now whatever was new in him was to her a threat ofevil to come. 

Stone-face also noted him, and he knew the young man better than allothers 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 ifI may find him alone. '

So came the swearing to an end, and they fell to on their meat andfeasted on the Boar of Atonement after they had duly given the Godstheir due share, and the wine went about the hall and men were merrytill 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 weremany 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 WelteringWater, and there betook himself into one of the coins of safety builtover the up-stream piles; there he leaned against the wall and turnedhis face to the Thorp, and fell to pondering on his case. And firsthe thought about his oath, and how that he had sworn to wed theMountain Woman, although his kindred and her kindred should gainsayhim, yea and herself also. Great seemed that oath to him, yet atthat moment he wished he had made it greater, and made all thekindred, yea and the Bride herself, sure of the meaning of the wordsof 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 merelonging that the spring were come and the token from the Mountain. Things seemed too hard for him to deal with, and he between a mightyfolk and two wayward women; and he went nigh to wish that he hadtaken his father's offer and gone down to the Cities; and even had hemet his bane: well were that! And, as young folk will, he set towork making a picture of his deeds there, had he been there. Heshowed himself the stricken fight in the plain, and the press, andthe struggle, and the breaking of the serried band, and himselfamidst the ring of foemen doing most valiantly, and falling there atlast, his shield o'er-heavy with the weight of foemen's spears for aman to uphold it. Then the victory of his folk and the lamentationand praise over the slain man of the Mountain Dales, and the burialof the valiant warrior, the praising weeping folk meeting him at theCity-gate, laid stark and cold in his arms on the gold-hung garlandedbier. 

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 forsooththat is how I am thinking of it, as if I still alive should seemyself dead and famous!'

Then he turned a little and looked at the houses of the Thorp lyingdark about the snowy ways under the starlit heavens of the wintermorning: dark they were indeed and grey, save where here and therethe 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 achamber window. There was scarce a man astir, he deemed, and nosound reached him save the crowing of the cocks muffled by theirhouses, and a faint sound of beasts in the byres. 

Thus he stood a while, his thoughts wandering now, till presently heheard footsteps coming his way down the street and turned towardthem, and lo it was the old man Stone-face. He had seen Gold-mane goout, and had risen and followed him that he might talk with himapart. Gold-mane greeted him kindly, though, sooth to say, he wasbut half content to see him; since he doubted, what was verily thecase, that his foster-father would give him many words, counsellinghim 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 swainsare 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 ofbeasts than elks. Things may ye fall in with there who may not beimpounded in the snow like to elks, but can go light-foot on the topof the soft drift from one place to another. '

Said Gold-mane: 'Father, fear me not; I shall either refrain me fromthe wood, or if I go, I shall go to hunt the wood-deer with otherhunters. But since thou hast come to me, tell me more about thewood, for thy tales thereof are fair. '

'Yea, ' said Stone-face, 'fair tales of foul things, as oft itbefalleth in the world. Hearken now! if thou deemest that what thouseekest shall come readier to thine hand because of the winter andthe snow, thou errest. For the wights that waylay the bodies andsouls of the mighty in the wild-wood heed such matters nothing; yeaand 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 andthe wind was rough; and it was in the likeness of a woman clad insuch raiment as the Bride bore last night, and she trod the snowlight-foot in thin raiment where it would scarce bear the skids of adeft snow-runner. Even so she stood before me; the icy wind blew herraiment round about her, and drifted the hair from her garlanded headtoward me, and she as fair and fresh as in the midsummer days. Upthe fell she fared, sweetest of all things to look on, and beckonedon 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 childand not she. Always when she would be, was she merry and lovely; andeven so is she now, for she is of those that be long-lived. And Iwot that thou hast seen even such an one!'

'Tell me more of thy tales, foster-father, ' said Gold-mane, 'and fearnot for me!'

'Ah, son, ' he said, 'mayst thou have no such tales to tell to thosethat shall be young when thou art old. Yet hearken! We sat in thehall together and there was no third; and methought that the birdssang and the flowers bloomed, and sweet was their savour, though itwas midwinter. A rose-wreath was on her head; grapes were on theboard, and fair unwrinkled summer apples on the day that we feastedtogether. When was the feast? sayst thou. Long ago. What was thehall, thou sayest, wherein ye feasted? I know not if it were on theearth or under it, or if we rode the clouds that even. But on themorrow 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, awanderer rising from the ground. A wanderer through the wood and upthe fell, and up the high mountain, and up and up to the edges of theice-river and the green caves of the ice-hills. A wanderer inspring, in summer, autumn and winter, with an empty heart and aburning never-satisfied desire; who hath seen in the uncouth placesmany an evil unmanly shape, many a foul hag and changing uglysemblance; who hath suffered hunger and thirst and wounding andfever, and hath seen many things, but hath never again seen that fairwoman, or that lovely feast-hall. 

'All praise and honour to the House of the Face, and the bounteousvaliant men thereof! and the like praise and honour to the fair womenwhom they wed of the valiant and goodly House of the Steer!'

'Even so say I, ' quoth Gold-mane calmly; 'but now wend we aback tothe House, for it is morning indeed, and folk will be stirringthere. '

So they turned from the bridge together; and Stone-face was kind andfatherly, and was telling his foster-son many wise things concerningthe life of a chieftain, and the giving-out of dooms and thegathering for battle; to all which talk Face-of-god seemed to hearkengladly, but indeed hearkened not at all; for verily his eyes werebeholding that snowy waste, and the fair woman upon it; even such anone 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, andthe 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 himselfin fetching wood and water, and in sweeping out the Hall, and othersuch works of the early morning. In a little while Hall-face and theother young men and warriors were afoot duly clad, and the Aldermancame from his chamber and greeted all men kindly. Soon meat was setupon the boards, and men broke their fast; and day dawned while theywere 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 seemedhard and enduring. 

Then the eager young men and the hunters, and those who knew themountain best drew together about the hearth, and fell to talking ofthe hunting of the elk; and there were three there who knew both thewoods and also the fells right up to the ice-rivers better than anyother; and these said that they who were fain of the hunting of theelk 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 thework at once and make the most of the short winter daylight. So theywent 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 tohis shut-bed, and stood by his chest, and opened it, and drew out ofit 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 sodeft as his father, who was the deftest of all men of that time andcountry; so that the alien merchants would give him what he would forhis hauberks and helms, whenso he would chaffer with them, which wasbut seldom. So Face-of-god did on this hauberk over his kirtle, andover it he cast his foul-weather weed, so that none might see it: hegirt a strong war-sword to his side, cast his quiver over hisshoulder, and took his bow in his hand, although he had little lustto shoot elks that day, even as Stone-face had said; therewithal hetook 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 thetwenty-fourth. And each man there had his skids and his bow andquiver, and whatso other weapon, as short-sword, or wood-knife, oraxe, seemed good to him. 

So they went out-a-gates, and clomb the stairway in the cliff whichled to the ancient watch-tower: for it was on the lower slopes ofthe fells which lay near to the Weltering Water that they looked tofind the elks, and this was the nighest road thereto. When they hadgotten to the top they lost no time, but went their ways nearly dueeast, making way easily where there were but scattered trees close tothe lip of the sheer cliffs. 

They went merrily on their skids over the close-lying snow, and weresoon up on the great shoulders of the fells that went up from thebank of the Weltering Water: at noon they came into a little dalewherein were a few trees, and there they abided to eat their meat, and were very merry, making for themselves tables and benches of thedrifted snow, and piling it up to windward as a defence against thewind, which had now arisen, little but bitter from the south-east; sothat 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 broughtup with it a drift of fine snow, through which they yet made theirway, but slowly, till the drift grew so thick that they could not seeeach other five paces apart. 

Then perforce they made stay, and gathered together under a bentwhich by good luck they happened upon, where they were sheltered fromthe worst of the drift. There they abode, till in less than anhour's space the drift abated and the wind fell, and in a littlewhile after it was quite clear, with the sun shining brightly and theyoung waxing moon white and high up in the heavens; and the frost washarder than ever. 

This seemed good to them; but now that they could see each other'sfaces they fell to telling over their company, and there was nonemissing save Face-of-god. They were somewhat dismayed thereat, butknew not what to do, and they deemed he might not be far off, eithera little behind or a little ahead; and Hall-face said:

'There is no need to make this to-do about my brother; he can takegood care of himself; neither does a warrior of the Face die becauseof a little cold and frost and snow-drift. Withal Gold-mane is awilful man, and of late days hath been wilful beyond his wont; let usnow find the elks. '

So they went on their ways hoping to fall in with him again. No longstory need be made of their hunting, for not very far from where theyhad taken shelter they came upon the elks, many of them, impounded inthe drifts, pretty much where the deft hunters looked to find them. There then was battle between the elks and the men, till the beastswere all slain and only one man hurt: then they made them sleighsfrom wood which they found in the hollows thereby, and they laid thecarcasses thereon, and so turned their faces homeward, dragging theirprey with them. But they met not Face-of-god either there or on theway home; and Hall-face said: 'Maybe Gold-mane will lie on the fellto-night; and I would I were with him; for adventures oft befall suchfolk when they abide in the wilds. '

Now it was late at night by then they reached Burgstead, so laden asthey were with the dead beasts; but they heeded the night little, forthe moon was well-nigh as bright as day for them. But when they cameto the gate of the Thorp, there were assembled the goodmen and swainsto meet them with torches and wine in their honour. There also wasGold-mane come back before them, yea for these two hours; and hestood clad in his holiday raiment and smiled on them. 

Then was there some jeering at him that he was come back empty-handedfrom the hunting, and that he was not able to abide the wind and thedrift; 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 theyhad deemed it a heavy loss of him if he had been cast away, as somefeared he had been: and his brother Hall-face embraced him andkissed him, and said to him: 'Now the next time that thou farest tothe wood will I be with thee foot to foot, and never leave thee, andthen meseemeth I shall wot of the tale that hath befallen thee, andbelike it shall be no sorry one. '

Face-of-god laughed and answered but little, and they all betook themto the House of the Face and held high feast therein, for as late asthe night was, in honour of this Hunting of the Elk. 

No man cared to question Face-of-god closely as to how or where hehad strayed from the hunt; for he had told his own tale at once assoon as he came home, to wit, that his right-foot skid-strap hadbroken, and even while he stopped to mend it came on that drift andweather; and that he could not move from that place without losinghis way, and that when it had cleared he knew not whither they hadgone because the snow had covered their slot. So he deemed it notunlike that they had gone back, and that he might come up with one ortwo on the way, and that in any case he wotted well that they couldlook after themselves; so he turned back, not going very swiftly. All this seemed like enough, and a little matter except to jestabout, 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 littlelikely that anything shall come of my much questioning; and it is illforcing 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 inthis wise. His skid-strap brake in good sooth, and he stayed to mendit; but when he had done what was needful, he looked up and saw noman nigh, what for the drift, and that they had gone on somewhat; sohe rose to his feet, and without more delay, instead of keeping ontoward the elk-ground and the way his face had been set, he turnedhimself north-and-by-east, and went his ways swiftly towards thatairt, because he deemed that it might lead him to the Mountain-hallwhere he had guested. He abode not for the storm to clear, but sweptoff through the thick of it; and indeed the wind was somewhat at hisback, so that he went the swiftlier. But when the drift was gottento its very worst, he sheltered himself for a little in a hollowbehind a thorn-bush he stumbled upon. As soon as it began to abatehe went on again, and at last when it was quite clear, and the sunshone out, he found himself on a long slope of the fells covered deepwith smooth white snow, and at the higher end a great crag risingbare 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 thehither side; and on the further, three great pine-trees all bent downand mingled together by their load of snow. 

Thitherward he made, as a man might, seeing nothing else to notebefore him; but he had not made many strides when forth from behindthe crag by the pine-trees came a man; and at first Face-of-godthought it might be one of his hunting-fellows gone astray, and hehailed him in a loud voice, but as he looked he saw the sun flashback from a bright helm on the new-comer's head; albeit he kept onhis 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 loosedat Face-of-god, and the arrow came whistling and passed six inches byhis right ear. Then Face-of-god stopped perplexed with his case; forhe was on the deep snow in his skids, with his bow unbent, and heknew not how to bend it speedily. He was loth to turn his back andflee, and indeed he scarce deemed that it would help him. Meanwhileof his tarrying the archer loosed again at him, and this time theshaft flew close to his left ear. Then Face-of-god thought to casthimself down into the snow, but he was ashamed; till there came athird shaft which flew over his head amidmost and close to it. 'Goodshooting on the Mountain!' muttered he; 'the next shaft will beamidst my breast, and who knows whether the Alderman's handiwork willkeep 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 hitherto 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 thearcher came swiftly towards him on his skids with no weapon in hishand save his bow; so that Face-of-god did not draw his sword, butstood wondering. 

As they drew nearer he beheld the face of the new-comer, and deemedthat he had seen it before; and soon, for all that it was hoodedclose by the ill-weather raiment, he perceived it to be the face ofBow-may, ruddy and smiling. 

She laughed out loud again, as she stopped herself within three feetof him, and said:

'Yea, friend Yellow-hair, we heard of the elks and looked to see theehereabouts, and I knew thee at once when I came out from behind thecrag 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 thoushoot those three shafts at me? Surely thou art not so quick as thatwith all thy friends: these be sharp greetings of you Mountain-folk. '

'Thou lad with the sweet mouth, ' she said, 'I like to see thee andhear thee talk, but now must I hasten thy departure; so stand we hereno longer. Let us get down into the wood where we can do off ourskids 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 theslopes 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 notknow surely amidst this snow. Come, no words! thou shalt not have mytale from me till we are in the wood: so the sooner we are there thesooner 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 shesaid:

'Thou art good so do as I bid thee; but see thou, sweet playmate, forall thou art a chieftain's son, thou wert but feather-brained to askme why I shot at thee. I shoot at thee! that were a fine tale totell her this even! Or dost thou think that I could shoot at a bigman 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 bein my company whenso I fare to battle. '

'Indeed, ' she said, 'therein thou sayest but the bare truth: nowhereelse shall I be, and thou shalt find my bow no worse than a goodshield. '

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 wellcontent with thee!'

So on they sped very swiftly, for their way was mostly down hill, sothat they were soon amongst the outskirting trees of the wood, andpresently after reached the edge of the thicket, beyond which theground was but thinly covered with snow. 

There they took off their skids, and went into the thick wood and satdown under a hornbeam tree; and ere Gold-mane could open his mouth tospeak Bow-may began and said:

'Well it was that I fell in with thee, Dalesman, else had there beenmurders of men to tell of; but ever she ordereth all things wisely, though unwisely hast thou done to seek to her. Hearken! dost thouthink that thou hast done well that thou hast me here with my tale?Well, hadst thou busied thyself with the slaying of elks, or withsitting quietly at home, yet shouldest thou have heard my tale, andthou shouldest have seen me in Burgstead in a day or two to tell theeconcerning the flitting of the token. And ill it is that I havemissed it, for fain had I been to behold the House of the Face, andto have seen thee sitting there in thy dignity amidst the kindred ofchieftains. '

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. Butcome, playmate, give me thy tale!'

'Yea, ' she said, 'I must now tell thee in the wild-wood what else Ihad told thee in the Hall. Hearken closely, for this is the message:

'Seek not to me again till thou hast the token; else assuredly wiltthou be slain, and I shall be sorry for many a day. Thereof as now Imay not tell thee more. Now as to the token: When March is worn twoweeks fail not to go to and fro on the place of the Maiden Ward foran 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 thetoken. ' 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 thouknowest the wood; and then mayst thou get on to the smooth snowagain, and so home merrily. Yet, thou grey-eyed fellow, I will havemy pay of thee before I do that last work. '

Therewith she turned about to him and took his head between herhands, and kissed him well favouredly both cheeks and mouth; and shelaughed, albeit the tears stood in her eyes as she said: 'Nowsmelleth the wood sweeter, and summer will come back again. And eventhus 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 theearth: she had taken off her foul-weather gloves while they spake, and he kissed her hand, which was shapely of fashion albeit somewhatbrown, and hard of palm, and he said in friendly wise:

'Thou art a merry faring-fellow, Bow-may, and belike shalt be withala true fighting-fellow. Come now, thou shalt be my sister and I thybrother, in despite of those three shafts across the snow. '

He laughed therewith; she laughed not, but seemed glad, and saidsoberly:

'Yea, I may well be thy sister; for belike I also am of the people ofthe Gods, who have come into these Dales by many far ways. I am ofthe 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 anassured and wonted path, and he followed hard at heel; but histhought went from her for a while; for those words of brother andsister that he had spoken called to his mind the Bride, and theirkindness of little children, and the days when they seemed to havenought to do but to make the sun brighter, and the flowers fairer, and the grass greener, and the birds happier each for the other; anda hard and evil thing it seemed to him that now he should be makingall these things nought and dreary to her, now when he had become aman 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 musthave had this from the Friend's foreseeing; and he longed sore fordeeds to do, wherein all these things might be cleared up and washenclean as it were. 

So passed they through the wood a long way, and it was getting darktherein, 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 manythings. Farewell and live merrily till March comes and the token!'

Therewith she turned and went her ways and was soon out of sight, andhe went lightly through the wood, and then on skids over the hardsnow along the Dale's edge till he was come to the watch-tower, whenthe moon was bright in heaven. 

Thus was he at Burgstead and the House of the Face betimes, andbefore 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 manhad come back hale and merry, seemed not to crave over-much to goback thither. As for the Bride, she was sad, and more thanmisdoubted all; but dauntless as she was in matters that try men'shardihood, she yet lacked heart to ask of Face-of-god what hadbefallen him since the autumn-tide, or where he was with her. So sheput a force upon herself not to look sad or craving when she was inhis company, as full oft she was; for he rather sought her thanshunned her. For when he saw her thus, he deemed things werechanging with her as they had changed with him, and he bethought himof what he had spoken to Bow-may, and deemed that even so he mightspeak with the Bride when the time came, and that she would not begrieved beyond measure, and all would be well. 

Now came on the thaw, and the snow went, and the grass grew all upand down the Dale, and all waters were big. And about this timearose rumours of strange men in the wood, uncouth, vile, andmurderous, and many of the feebler sort were made timorous thereby. 

But a little before March was born came new tidings from theWoodlanders; to wit: There came on a time to the house of a woodlandcarle, a worthy goodman well renowned of all, two wayfarers in thefirst watch of the night; and these men said that they were wendingdown to the Plain from a far-away dale, Rose-dale to wit, which allmen had heard of, and that they had strayed from the way and wereexceeding weary, and they craved a meal's meat and lodging for thenight. 

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 noman had seen any like them before: they were armed, and bore shortbows made of horn, and round targets, and coats-of-fence done overwith horn scales; they had crooked swords girt to their sides, andaxes of steel forged all in one piece, right good weapons. They wereclad in scarlet and had much silver on their raiment and about theirweapons, and great rings of the same on their arms; and all thissilver seemed brand-new. 

Now the Woodland Carle gave them of such things as he had, and waskind and blithe to them: there were in his house besides himselffive men of his sons and kindred, and his wife and three daughtersand two other maids. So they feasted after the Woodlanders' fashion, and went to bed a little before midnight. Two hours after, the carleawoke and heard a little stir, and he looked and saw the guests ontheir feet amidst the hall clad in all their war-gear; and they hadbetwixt them his two youngest daughters, maids of fifteen and twelvewinters, 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 carrythem off. Thereat the goodman, naked as he was, caught up his swordand made at these murder-carles, and or ever they were ware of him hehad hewn down one and turned to face the other, who smote at him withhis steel axe and gave him a great wound on the shoulder, andtherewithal fled out at the open door and forth into the wood. 

The Woodlander made no stay to raise the cry (there was no need, forthe hall was astir now from end to end, and men getting to theirweapons), but ran out after the felon even as he was; and, in spiteof his grievous hurt, overran him no long way from the house beforehe had gotten into the thicket. But the man was nimble and strong, and the goodman unsteady from his wound, and by then the others ofthe household came up with the hue and cry he had gotten two moresore wounds and was just making an end of throttling the felon withhis 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 aknife-thrust in his side; and he was a man of sixty winters. 

But the stranger he had slain outright; and the one whom he hadsmitten 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 toGold-mane more than all. So he and many others took their weaponsand fared up to Wildlake's Way, and so came to the Woodland Carles. But the Woodlanders had borne out the carcasses of those felons andlaid them on the green before Wood-grey's door (for that was the nameof the dead goodman), and they were saying that they would not burysuch accursed folk, but would bear them a little way so that theyshould not be vexed with the stink of them, and cast them into thethicket for the wolf and the wild-cat and the stoat to deal with; andthey should lie there, weapons and silver and all; and they deemed itbase to strip such wretches, for who would wear their raiment or beartheir weapons after them. 

There was a great ring of folk round about them when they ofBurgstead drew near, and they shouted for joy to see theirneighbours, and made way before them. Then the Dalesmen cursed thesemurderers who had slain so good a man, and they all praised hismanliness, whereas he ran out into the night naked and wounded afterhis foe, and had fallen like his folk of old time. 

It was a bright spring afternoon in that clearing of the Wood, andthey looked at the two dead men closely; and Gold-mane, who had beensomewhat silent and moody till then, became merry and wordy; for hebeheld the men and saw that they were utterly strange to him: theywere short of stature, crooked-legged, long-armed, very strong fortheir size: with small blue eyes, snubbed-nosed, wide-mouthed, thin-lipped, very swarthy of skin, exceeding foul of favour. He and allothers wondered who they were, and whence they came, for never hadthey seen their like; and the Woodlanders, who often guestedoutlanders strayed from the way of divers kindreds and nations, saidalso that none such had they ever seen. But Stone-face, who stood byGold-mane, shook his head and quoth he:

'The Wild-wood holdeth many marvels, and these be of them: the spawnof evil wights quickeneth therein, and at other whiles it meltethaway again like the snow; so may it be with these carcasses. '

And some of the older folk of the Woodlanders who stood by hearkenedwhat he said, and deemed his words wise, for they remembered theirancient lore and many a tale of old time. 

Thereafter they of Burgstead went into Wood-grey's hall, or as manyof 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 muchgoodly work of knots and flowers and twining stems the image of theWolf of the Waste, his jaws open and gaping: the wife and daughtersof the goodman and other women of the folk stood about the biersinging some old song in a low voice, and some sobbing therewithal, for the man was much beloved: and much people of the Woodlanders wasin the hall, and it was somewhat dusk within. 

So the Burgstead men greeted that folk kindly and humbly, and againthey fell to praising the dead man, saying how his deed should longbe remembered in the Dale and wide about; and they called him afearless man and of great worth. And the women hearkened, and ceasedtheir crooning and their sobbing, and stood up proudly and raisedtheir heads with gleaming eyes; and as the words of the Burgstead menended, they lifted up their voices and sang loudly and clearly, standing together in a row, ten of them, on the dais of that poorhall, facing the gable and the wolf-adorned tie-beam, heeding noughtas 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 winIs wrack and ruin round the kin. 

Shall the woollen yarn and the flaxen threadBe gear for living men or dead?

The woollen yarn and the flaxen threadShall 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 beholdThis weaving of the moonlight cold?

There where the alien host abidesThe gathering on the Mountain-sides. 

How long aloft shall the fair web flyWhen the bows are bent and the spears draw nigh?

From eve to morn and morn till eveAloft 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 warFrom the men that were to the men that are. 

So sang they: and much were all men moved at their singing, andthere was none but called to mind the old days of the Fathers, andthe years when their banner went wide in the world. 

But the Woodlanders feasted them of Burgstead what they might, andthen went the Dalesmen back to their houses; but on the morrow'smorrow they fared thither again, and Wood-grey was laid in moundamidst a great assemblage of the Folk. 

Many men said that there was no doubt that those two felons were ofthe company of those who had ransacked the steads of Penny-thumb andHarts-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 changedhis mind; for he said that such men as these would have slain firstand ransacked afterwards: and some who loved neither Penny-thumb norHarts-bane said that they would not have been at the pains to choosefor ransacking the two worst men about the Dale, whose loss was noloss to any but themselves. 

As for Gold-mane he knew not what to think, except that his friendsof 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 afair and sunny day an hour before noon; and Face-of-god was in ameadow a scant mile down the Dale from Burgstead. He had beendriving a bull into a goodman's byre nearby, and had had to spendtoil and patience both in getting him out of the fields and into thebyre; 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 pleasantplace, a little meadow to wit, on one side whereof was a greatorchard or grove of sweet chestnuts, which went right up to the feetof the Southern Cliffs: across the meadow ran a clear brook towardsthe Weltering Water, free from big stones, in some places dammed upfor the flooding of the deep pasture-meadow, and with the grassgrowing on its lips down to the very water. There was a low bankjust outside the chestnut trees, as if someone had raised a dykeabout them when they were young, which had been trodden low andspreading through the lapse of years by the faring of many men andbeasts. The primroses bloomed thick upon it now, and here and therealong 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 nighhidden by the blossoms of the meadow-saffron, with daffodilssprinkled 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 happywas his mood; since in two days' wearing he should be pacing theMaiden 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, andstriving as it were to set her image standing on the flowery grassbefore him, till all the beauty of the meadow seemed bare and emptyto him without her. Then it fell into his mind that this had been abeloved trysting-place betwixt him and the Bride, and that often whenthey were little would they come to gather chestnuts in the grove, and thereafter sit and prattle on the old dyke; or in spring when theseason was warm would they go barefoot into the brook, seeking itstreasures of troutlets and flowers and clean-washed agate pebbles. Yea, and time not long ago had they met here to talk as lovers, andsat on that very bank in all the kindness of good days without ablemish, and both he and she had loved the place well for its wealthof blossoms and deep grass and goodly trees and clear running stream. 

As he thought of all this, and how often there he had praised tohimself her beauty, which he scarce dared praise to her, he frownedand slowly rose to his feet, and turned toward the chestnut-grove, asthough he would go thence that way; but or ever he stepped down fromthe dyke he turned about again, and even therewith, like the veryimage and ghost of his thought, lo! the Bride herself coming up fromout the brook and wending toward him, her wet naked feet gleaming inthe sun as they trod down the tender meadow-saffron and brushed pastthe tufts of daffodils. He stood staring at her discomforted, for onthat day he had much to think of that seemed happy to him, and hedeemed that she would now question him, and his mind pondered diversways of answering her, and none seemed good to him. She drew nearand let her skirts fall over her feet, and came to him, her gown hemdragging over the flowers: then she stood straight up before him andgreeted 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 spaketo 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 opento thee. '

She said: 'If I be alive when the time comes this gift thou maystwell give me. '

'Sweet kinswoman, ' said he, 'tell me what it is that thou wouldesthave 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 kinshipaccursed 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 whenthou art wedded, thou wilt give me the second man-child whom thoubegettest. '

He said: 'This shalt thou have, and would that I might give theemuch 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 theGod, 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 meback, it maybe a flower from the bank ye sit upon, or a splinter fromthe dais of the hall wherein ye feast, or maybe a ring or some matterthat the strangers are wont to wear. That shall be the token. '

She spoke slowly, hanging her head adown, but she lifted it presentlyand looked into his face and said:

'Woe's me, woe's me, Gold-mane! How evil is this day, when bewailingme 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 durstnot 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 noword 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 inten. Why askest thou?'

'O friend!' she said, 'is it a new thing that I should ask theewhither thou goest and whence thou comest, and the times of thycoming 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 awayas she had come. 

But as for him he stood there after she was gone in all confusion, asif he were undone: for he felt his manhood lessened that he shouldthus and so sorely have hurt a friend, and in a manner against hiswill. And yet he was somewhat wroth with her, that she had come uponhim so suddenly, and spoken to him with such mastery, and in so fewwords, and he with none to make answer to her, and that she had somarred his pleasure and his hope of that fair day. Then he sat himdown again on the flowery bank, and little by little his heartsoftened, and he once more called to mind many a time when they hadbeen there before, and the plays and the games they had had togetherthere when they were little. And he bethought him of the days thatwere long to him then, and now seemed short to him, and as if theywere all grown together into one story, and that a sweet one. Thenhis breast heaved with a sob, and the tears rose to his eyes andburned and stung him, and he fell a-weeping for that sweet tale, andwept as he had wept once before on that old dyke when there had beensome child's quarrel between them, and she had gone away and lefthim. 

Then after a while he ceased his weeping, and looked about him lestanyone might be coming, and then he arose and went to and fro in thechestnut-grove for a good while, and afterwards went his ways fromthat meadow, saying to himself: 'Yet remaineth to me the morrow ofto-morrow, and that is the first of the days of the watching for thetoken. '

But all that day he was slow to meet the eyes of men; and in the hallthat eve he was silent and moody; for from time to time it came overhim 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-godarose betimes; for it was the first day of his watch, and he was atthe Maiden Ward before the time appointed on a very fair and brightmorning, 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 itbut a lie and a mocking when all is said?'

On the morrow he went thither again, and the morn was wild and stormywith drift of rain, and low clouds hurrying over the earth, thoughfor the sunrise they lifted a little in the east, and the sun came upover the passes, amidst the red and angry rack of clouds. This mornalso gave him no tidings of the token, and he was wroth and perturbedin spirit: but towards evening he said:

'It is well: ten days she gave me, so that she might be able to sendwithout fail on one of them; she will not fail me. '

So again on the morrow he was there betimes, and the morn was windyas on the day before, but the clouds higher and of better promise forthe day. Face-of-god walked to and fro on the Maiden Ward, and as heturned toward Burgstead for the tenth time, he heard, as he deemed, abow-string twang afar off, and even therewith came a shaft flyingheavily like a winged bird, which smote a great standing stone on theother 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, andsaw that there was a piece of thin parchment wrapped about it, whichindeed he was eager to unwrap at once, but forebore; because he wason the highway, and people were already astir, and even then passedby 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 highwaya little till he came to a place where was a footbridge over into themeadow. He crossed thereby and went swiftly till he reached a risingground grown over with hazel-trees; there he sat down among therabbit-holes, the primrose and wild-garlic blooming about him, andthree blackbirds answering one another from the edges of the coppice. Straightway when he had looked and seen none coming he broke thethreads that were wound about the scroll and the arrow, and unrolledthe parchment; and there was writing thereon in black ink of smallletters, but very fair, and this is what he read therein:

Come thou to the Mountain Hall by the path which thou knowest of, onthe morrow of the day whereon thou readest this. Rise betimes andcome armed, for there are other men than we in the wood; to whom thydeath should be a gain. When thou art come to the Hall, thou shaltfind no man therein; but a great hound only, tied to a bench nigh thedais. Call him by his name, Sure-foot to wit, and give him to eatfrom the meat upon the board, and give him water to drink. If theday is then far spent, as it is like to be, abide thou with the houndin 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: thenlead him out and bring him to the north-east corner of the Hall, andhe 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 hescarce knew whither to turn or what to do to make the most of hisjoy. He presently went back to Burgstead and into the House of theFace, where all men were astir now, and the day was clearing. He hidthe 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 hekept his chiefest treasures; but the writing on the scroll he set inhis bosom and so hid it. He went joyfully and proudly, as one whoknoweth more tidings and better than those around him. But Stone-face beheld him, and said 'Foster-son, thou art happy. Is it thatthe spring-tide is in thy blood, and maketh thee blithe with allthings, or hast thou some new tidings? Nay, I would not have ananswer out of thee; but here is good rede: when next thou goest intothe wood, it were nought so ill for thee to have a valiant old carleby thy side; one that loveth thee, and would die for thee if needwere; one who might watch when thou wert seeking. Or else beware!for there are evil things abroad in the Wood, and moreover thebrethren 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 shouldbe before long. So the talk between them fell, and Stone-face wentaway somewhat well-pleased. 

And now was Face-of-god become wary; and he would not draw men's eyesand speech on him; so he went afield with Hall-face to deal with thelambs and the ewes, and did like other men. No less wary was he inthe hall that even, and neither spake much nor little; and when hisfather spake to him concerning the Bride, and made game of him as asomewhat sluggish groom, he did not change countenance, but answeredlightly what came to hand. 

On the morrow ere the earliest dawn he was afoot, and he clad himselfand did on his hauberk, his father's work, which was fine-wrought anda stout defence, and reached down to his knees; and over that he didon a goodly green kirtle well embroidered: he girt his war-sword tohis side, and it was the work of his father's father, and a very goodsword: 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, shortbut strong-shafted and well-steeled. Thus arrayed he left Burgsteadbefore the dawn, and came to Wildlake's Way and betook him to theWoodland. He made no stop or stay on the path, but ate his meatstanding by an oak-tree close by the half-blind track. When he cameto the little wood-lawn, where was the toft of the ancient house, helooked all round about him, for he deemed that a likely place forthose ugly wood-wights to set on him; but nought befell him, thoughhe stooped and drank of the woodland rill warily enough. So hepassed on; and there were other places also where he fared warily, because they seemed like to hold lurking felons; though forsooth thewhole wood might well serve their turn. But no evil befell him, andat 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 scarcebelieving but that he should find the Friend abiding him there: butwhen he pushed the door it gave way before him at once, and heentered and found no man therein, and the walls stripped bare and noshield or weapon hanging on the panels. But the hound he saw tied toa 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, andfed him with flesh from the meat on the board; so the beast becamefriendly and wagged his tail and whined and slobbered his hand. 

Then he went all about the house, and saw and heard no living thingtherein save the mice in the panels and Sure-foot. So he came backto the dais, and sat him down at the board and ate his fill, andthought concerning his case. And it came into his mind that theWoman of the Mountain had some deed for him to do which would try hismanliness and exalt his fame; and his heart rose high and he wasglad, and he saw himself sitting beside her on the dais of a veryfair hall beloved and honoured of all the folk, and none had aught tosay against him or owed him any grudge. Thus he pleased himself inthinking of the good days to come, sitting there till the hall grewdusk and dark and the night-wind moaned about it. 

Then after a while he arose and raked together the brands on thehearth, and made light in the hall and looked to the door. And hefound there were bolts and bars thereto, so he shot the bolts anddrew 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 thathe might lie down athwart the door, and then lay down his hauberkwith 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 moonhad set; yet he deemed that the day was at point of breaking. So hefetched water and washed the night off him, and saw a little glimmerof the dawn. Then he ate somewhat of the meat on the board, and didon 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 manand the hound, just as broke dawn from over the mountains. 

Sure-foot led right into the heart of the pine-wood, and it was darkenough therein, with nought but a feeble glimmer for some while, andlong was the way therethrough; but in two hours' space was theresomething of a break, and they came to the shore of a dark deep tarnon whose windless and green waters the daylight shone fully. Thehound skirted the water, and led on unchecked till the trees began togrow smaller and the air colder for all that the sun was higher; forthey had been going up and up all the way. 

So at last after a six hours' journey they came clean out of thepine-wood, and before them lay the black wilderness of the baremountains, and beyond them, looking quite near now, the great ice-peaks, the wall of the world. It was but an hour short of noon bythis time, and the high sun shone down on a barren boggy moss whichlay betwixt them and the rocky waste. Sure-foot made no stay, butthreaded the ways that went betwixt the quagmires, and in anotherhour led Face-of-god into a winding valley blinded by great rocks, and everywhere stony and rough, with a trickle of water runningamidst of it. The hound fared on up the dale to where the water wasbridged by a great fallen stone, and so over it and up a steep benton the further side, on to a marvellously rough mountain-neck, whilesmere black sand cumbered with scattered rocks and stones, whilesbeset with mires grown over with the cottony mire-grass; here andthere a little scanty grass growing; otherwhere nought but dwarfwillow ever dying ever growing, mingled with moss or red-blossomedsengreen; and all blending together into mere desolation. 

Few living things they saw there; up on the neck a few sheep weregrazing 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 whoowned them. For the rest, the whimbrel laughed across the mires;high up in heaven a great eagle was hanging; once and again a greyfox leapt up before them, and the heath-fowl whirred up from underFace-of-god's feet. A raven who was sitting croaking on a rock inthat first dale stirred uneasily on his perch as he saw them, andwhen they were passed flapped his wings and flew after them croakingstill. 

Now they fared over that neck somewhat east, making but slow waybecause the ground was so broken and rocky; and in another hour'sspace Sure-foot led down-hill due east to where the stony neck sankinto another desolate miry heath still falling toward the east, butwhose further side was walled by a rampart of crags cleft at theirtops 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 tallestpeak scant fifty feet from the face of the heath. 

They made their way through the scattered rocks at the foot of thesecrags, till, just where the rock-wall seemed the closest, the waythrough the stones turned into a path going through it skew-wise; andit was now so clear a path that belike it had been bettered by men'shands. Down thereby Face-of-god followed the hound, deeming that hewas come to the gates of the Shadowy Vale, and the path went downsteeply and swiftly. But when he had gone down a while, the rocks onhis right hand sank lower for a space, so that he could look over andsee 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 blackstone. The plain was grown over with grass, but he could see no treetherein: 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 sunwould never shine on that valley. 

Thus much he saw, and then the rocks rose again and shut it from hissight; and at last they drew so close together over head that he wasin 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 withthe last feeble glimmer of light he thought he saw carved on a smoothspace 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 manwere going once more between sheer black rocks, and the path grewsteeper 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-footbounded eagerly, giving tongue as he went; but Face-of-god stoodstill and looked, for now the whole Dale lay open before him. 

That river ran from north to south, and at the south end the cliffsdrew so close to it that looking thence no outgate could be seen; butat the north end there was as it were a dreary street of rocks, theriver flowing amidmost and leaving little foothold on either side, somewhat as it was with the pass leading from the mountains intoBurgdale. 

Amidmost of the Dale a little toward the north end he saw a doom-ringof black stones, and hard by it an ancient hall builded of the sameblack stone both wall and roof, and thitherward was Sure-foot nowrunning. Face-of-god looked up and down the Dale and could see nobreak in the wall of sheer rock: toward the southern end he saw afew booths and cots built roughly of stone and thatched with turf;thereabout he saw a few folk moving about, the most of whom seemed tobe women and children; there were some sheep and lambs near thesecots, and a herd of fifty or so of somewhat goodly mountain-kine werefeeding higher up the valley. He could look down into the river fromwhere he stood, and he saw that it ran between rocky banks goingstraight down from the face of the meadow, which was rather highabove the water, so that it seemed little likely that the watershould rise over its banks, either in summer or winter; and in summerwas it like to be highest, because the vale was so near to the highmountains 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 sunlightlay upon the grass of the vale below Gold-mane's feet; he wentlightly down the scree, and strode forward over the level grasstoward the Doom-ring, his helm and war-gear glittering bright in thesun. He must needs go through the Doom-ring to come to the Hall, andas he stepped out from behind the last of the big upright-stones, hesaw a woman standing on the threshold of the Hall-door, which was butsome score of paces from him, and knew her at once for the Friend. 

She was clad like himself in a green kirtle gaily embroidered andfitting close to her body, and had no gown or cloak over it; she hada golden fillet on her head beset with blue mountain stones, and herhair hung loose behind her. 

Her beauty was so exceeding, and so far beyond all memory of her thathis 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, smilingand happy-faced, and looking very kindly on him, and she took hishands and said to him:

'Now welcome, Gold-mane, welcome, Face-of-god! and twice welcome artthou and threefold. Lo! this is the day that thou asked for: artthou happy in it?'

He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them timorously, but saidnought; and therewithal Sure-foot came running forth from the Hall, and fell to bounding round about them, barking noisily after themanner of dogs who have met their masters again; and still she heldhis 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 wellwith thee?'

'Yea, ' he said, 'and more than well. '

'Thou seemest to me a goodly warrior, ' she said; 'hast thou met anyfoemen yesterday or this morning?'

'Nay, ' said he, 'none hindered me; thou hast made the ways easy tome. '

She said soberly, 'Such as I might do, I did. But we may not wieldeverything, for our foes are many, and I feared for thee. But comethou into our house, which is ours, and far more ours than the boothbefore the pine-wood. '

She took his hand again and led him toward the door, but Face-of-godlooked up, and above the lintel he saw carved on the dark stone thatimage 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 stoppedto look, pressing the Friend's hand hard as though bidding her noteit. The stone wherein the image was carved was darker than the otherbuilding stones, and might be called black; the jaws of the wood-beast were open and gaping, and had been painted with cinnabar, butwind and weather had worn away the most of the colour. 

Spake the Friend: 'So it is: thou beholdest the token of the Godand 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 thesea of waters. Thou beholdest the sign of our sorrow, the memory ofour wrong; yet is it also the token of our hope. Maybe it shall leadthee far. '

'Whither?' said he. But she answered not a great while, and helooked at her as she stood a-gazing on the image, and saw how thetears stole out of her eyes and ran adown her cheeks. Then againcame the thought to him of Wood-grey's hall, and the women of thekindred standing before the Wolf and singing of him; and though therewas little comeliness in them and she was so exceeding beauteous, hecould not but deem that they were akin to her. 

But after a while she wiped the tears from her face and turned to himand said: 'My friend, the Wolf shall lead thee no-whither but whereI also shall be, whatsoever peril or grief may beset the road or lurkat the ending thereof. Thou shalt be no thrall, to labour while Ilook on. '

His heart swelled within him as she spoke, and he was at point tobeseech her love that moment; but now her face had grown gay andbright again, and she said while he was gathering words to speakwithal:

'Come in, Gold-mane, come into our house; for I have many things tosay to thee. And moreover thou art so hushed, and so fearsome in thymail, 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 forewarnedthee. So would I eat before thee, and sign the meat with the sign ofthe Earth-god's Hammer, to show thee that he is in error concerningme, and that I am a very woman flesh and fell, as my kindred werebefore me. '

He laughed and was exceeding glad, and said: 'Tell me now, kindfriend, dost thou deem that Stone-face's tales are mere mockery ofhis dreams, and that he is beguiled by empty semblances or less? Orare there such Wights in the Waste. '

'Nay, ' she said, 'the man is a true man; and of these things arethere many ancient tales which we may not doubt. Yet so it is thatsuch wights have I never yet seen, nor aught to scare me save evilmen: belike it is that I have been over-much busied in dealing withsorrow and ruin to look after them: or it may be that they feared meand the wrath-breeding grief of the kindred. '

He looked at her earnestly, and the wisdom of her heart seemed toenter into his; but she said: 'It is of men we must talk, and of meand thee. Come with me, my friend. '

And she stepped lightly over the threshold and drew him in. The Hallwas stern and grim and somewhat dusky, for its windows were butsmall: it was all of stone, both walls and roof. There was notimber-work therein save the benches and chairs, a little about thedoors at the lower end that led to the buttery and out-bowers; andthis seemed to have been wrought of late years; yea, the chairsagainst the gable on the dais were of stone built into the wall, adorned with carving somewhat sparingly, the image of the Wolf beingdone over the midmost of them. He looked up and down the Hall, anddeemed it some seventy feet over all from end to end; and he couldsee in the dimness those same goodly hangings on the wall which hehad seen in the woodland booth. 

She led him up to the dais, and stood there leaning up against thearm of one of those stone seats silent for a while; then she turnedand looked at him, and said:

'Yea, thou lookest a goodly warrior; yet am I glad that thou camesthither without battle. Tell me, Gold-mane, ' she said, taking one ofhis 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 ofspear-throwing in this Hall, or shall we wend outside presently thatI may see thee throw?'

'The Hall sufficeth, ' he said. 'Shall I set this steel in the lintelof the buttery door yonder?'

'Yea, if thou canst, ' she said. 

He smiled and took the spear from her, and poised it and shook ittill it quivered again, then suddenly drew back his arm and cast, andthe shaft sped whistling down the dim hall, and smote the aforesaiddoor-lintel and stuck there quivering: then he sprang down from thedais, and ran down the hall, and put forth his hand and pulled itforth from the wood, and was on the dais again in a trice, and castagain, and the second time set the spear in the same place, and thentook his other spear from the board and cast it, and there stood thetwo staves in the wood side by side; then he went soberly down thehall and drew them both out of the wood and came back to her, whileshe stood watching him, her cheek flushed, her lips a little parted. 

She said: 'Good spear-casting, forsooth! and far above what our folkcan do, who be no great throwers of the spear. '

Gold-mane laughed: 'Sooth is that, ' said he, 'or hardly were I hereto 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; andhe 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 lovethee 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 endof the Hall, and in the bower beyond shalt thou find fresh water;there wash the waste from off thee, and do off thine helm andhauberk, and come back speedily and eat with me; for I hunger, and sodost thou. '

He did as she bade him, and came back presently bearing in his handboth helm and hauberk, and he looked light-limbed and trim andlissome, 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 theboard, 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; butfrom the Dale it is, and we be too far now from the dwellings of mento have delicate meat on the board, though to-night when they comeback thy cheer shall be better. Yet even then thou shalt have nosuch dainties as Stone-face hath imagined for thee at the hands ofthe Wood-wight. '

She laughed therewith, and he no less; and in sooth the meat was butsimple, 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 theFriend giveth. '

Then she raised her hand and made the sign of the Hammer over theboard, 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 itwas 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 stithymany days and fashioned a small piece of great mastery. He wasashamed to kiss her again, but he said to himself, 'This is thefairest 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 togrow yet sweeter, and he was bewildered with longing and delight. 

But she stood up and went to an ambrye in the wall and brought fortha horn shod and lipped with silver of ancient fashion, and she pouredwine into it and held it forth and said:

'O guest from the Dale, I pledge thee! and when thou hast drunk to mein turn we will talk of weighty matters. For indeed I bear hopes inmy hands too heavy for the daughters of men to bear; and thou art achieftain's son, and mayst well help me to bear them; so let us talksimply and without guile, as folk that trust one another. '

So she drank and held out the horn to him, and he took the horn andher hand both, and he kissed her hand and said:

'Here in this Hall I drink to the Sons of the Wolf, whosoever theybe. ' Therewith he drank and he said: 'Simply and guilelessly indeedwill I talk with thee; for I am weary of lies, and for thy sake haveI told a many. '

'Thou shalt tell no more, ' she said; 'and as for the health thou hastdrunk, it is good, and shall profit thee. Now sit we here in theseancient seats and let us talk. '

So they sat them down while the sun was westering in the Marchafternoon, 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 themwe know better than ye do, or can; for we were the ransackers ofPenny-thumb and Harts-bane. Thereof will I say more presently. Whatother tidings hast thou to tell of? What oaths were sworn upon theBoar last Yule?'

So he told her of the oath of Bristler the son of Brightling. Shesmiled 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 maytrust Iron-face. And thou, my friend, what oath didst thou swear?'

His face grew somewhat troubled as he said: 'I swore to wed thefairest woman in the world, though the Dalesmen gainsaid me, and theybeyond the Dale. '

'Yea, ' she said, 'and there is no need to ask thee whom thou didstmean by thy "fairest woman, " for I have seen that thou deemest mefair enough. My friend, maybe thy kindred will be against it, andthe kindred of the Bride; and it might be that my kindred would havegainsaid it if things were not as they are. But though all mengainsay 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 wasnothing in his heart but joy and gladness: yet shame of herloveliness 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 thoulookest on me with eyes of love, and thinkest of me as better than Iam; though I am no ill woman and no beguiler. But this is not allthat I have to say to thee, though it be much; for there are morefolk 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 thoucanst, refrain thy joy and thy longing a little, and hearken to whatconcerneth thee and me, and thy people and mine. '

'Fair woman and sweet friend, ' he said, 'thou knowest of a gladnesswhich is hard to bear if one must lay it aside for a while; and of alonging 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. Tellme, then, what were the felons who were slain at Carlstead? Knowestthou of them?'

'Over well, ' she said, 'they are our foes this many a year; and sincewe met last autumn they have become foes of you Dalesmen also. Soonshall ye have tidings of them; and it was against them that I badethee arm yesterday. '

Said Face-of-god: 'Is it against them that thou wouldst have us dobattle 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 ofaffinity with our House; that other day thou didst ask me to tellthee 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 welift 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 onehoof, 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 forour lands, thou seest this Vale in the howling wilderness and hownarrow and poor it is, though it hath been the nurse of warriors intime past. 

'Hearken! Time long ago came the kindred of the Wolf to theseMountains of the World; and they were in a pass in the stony maze andthe utter wilderness of the Mountains, and the foe was behind them innumbers not to be borne up against. And so it befell that the passforked, and there were two ways before our Folk; and one part of themwould 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. Sothey sundered into two companies, and one took one way and oneanother. Now as to those who fared by the southern road, we knew notwhat 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 amidstthe wilderness, and we were weary of fleeing from the over-masteringfoe; and the dale seemed enough, and a refuge, and a place to dwellin, and no man was there before us, and few were like to find it, andwe were but a few. So we dwelt here in this Vale for as wild as itis, the place where the sun shineth never in the winter, and scant isthe summer sunshine therein. Here we raised a Doom-ring and buildedus a Hall, wherein thou now sittest beside me, O friend, and we dwelthere many seasons. 

'We had a few sheep in the wilderness, and a few neat fed down thegrass of the Vale; and we found gems and copper in the rocks about uswherewith at whiles to chaffer with the aliens, and fish we drew fromour river the Shivering Flood. Also it is not to be hidden that inthose days we did not spare to lift the goods of men; yea, whileswould our warriors fare down unto the edges of the Plain and lie inwait there till the time served, and then drive the spoil from underthe very walls of the Cities. Our men were not little-hearted, nordid our women lament the death of warriors over-much, for they werethere to bear more warriors to the Folk. 

'But the seasons passed, and the Folk multiplied in Shadowy Vale, andlivelihood seemed like to fail them, and needs must they seek widerlands. So by ways which thou wilt one day wot of, we came into avalley that lieth north-west of Shadowy Vale: a land like thine ofBurgdale, or better; wide it was, plenteous of grass and trees, wellwatered, full of all things that man can desire. 

'Were there men before us in this Dale? sayest thou. Yea, but notvery many, and they feeble in battle, weak of heart, though strong ofbody. These, when they saw the Sons of the Wolf with weapons intheir hands, felt themselves puny before us, and their hearts failedthem; and they came to us with gifts, and offered to share the Dalebetween them and us, for they said there was enough for both folks. So we took their offer and became their friends; and some of ourHouses wedded wives of the strangers, and gave them their women towife. Therein they did amiss; for the blended Folk as thegenerations passed became softer than our blood, and many wereuntrusty and greedy and tyrannous, and the days of the whoredom fellupon us, and when we deemed ourselves the mightiest then were we thenearest to our fall. But the House whereof I am would never wed withthese Westlanders, and other Houses there were who had affinity withus who chiefly wedded with us of the Wolf, and their fathers had comewith ours into that fruitful Dale; and these were called the RedHand, and the Silver Arm, and the Golden Bushel, and the RaggedSword. Thou hast heard those names once before, friend?'

'Yea, ' he said, and as he spoke the picture of that other day cameback to him, and he called to mind all that he had said, and hishappiness of that hour seemed the more and the sweeter for thatmemory. 

She went on: 'Fair and goodly is that Dale as mine own eyes haveseen, and plentiful of all things, and up in its mountains to theeast are caves and pits whence silver is digged abundantly; thereforeis the Dale called Silver-dale. Hast thou heard thereof, my friend?'

'Nay, ' said Face-of-god, 'though I have marvelled whence ye gat suchfoison of silver. '

He looked on her and marvelled, for now she seemed as if it wereanother woman: her eyes were gleaming bright, her lips were parted;there was a bright red flush on the pommels of her two cheeks as shespake again and said:

'Happy lived the Folk in Silver-dale for many and many winters andsummers: the seasons were good and no lack was there: littlesickness there was and less war, and all seemed better than well. Itis 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 landvery far away: but no further do we know of toward that airt. LiethSilver-dale anywhere nigh to Rose-dale?'

She said: 'It is the next dale to it, yet is it a far journeybetwixt the two, for the ice-sea pusheth a horn in betwixt them; andeven below the ice the mountain-neck is passable to none save a boldcrag-climber, and to him only bearing his life in his hands. But, myfriend, I am but lingering over my tale, because it grieveth me soreto have to tell it. Hearken then! In the days when I had seen butten summers, and my brother was a very young man, but exceedingstrong, and as beautiful as thou art now, war fell on us withoutrumour or warning; for there swarmed into Silver-dale, though not bythe ways whereby we had entered it, a host of aliens, short ofstature, crooked of limb, foul of aspect, but fierce warriors andarmed 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 wewere young in these lands, but used all women whom they took as theirbeastly lust bade them, making them their thralls if they slew themnot. Soon we found that these foemen asked no more of us than all wehad, and therewithal our lives to be cast away or used for theirservice as beasts of burden or pleasure. There then we gathered ourfighting-men and withstood them; and if we had been all of thekindreds of the Wolf and the fruit of the wives of warriors, weshould have driven back these felons and saved the Dale, though itmaybe more than half ruined: but the most part of us were of thatmingled blood, or of the generations of the Dalesmen whom we hadconquered long ago, and stout as they were of body their heartsfailed them, and they gave themselves up to the aliens to be as theiroxen and asses. 

'Why make a long tale of it? We who were left, and could brook deathbut not thraldom, fought it out together, women as well as men, tillthe 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 hadbeen driven up to the easternmost end of the Dale, and up anigh tothe 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; nightwas coming on also, and even those murder-carles were weary withslaying; and, moreover, on this last day, when they saw that they hadwon all, they were fighting to keep, and not to slay, and a fewstubborn carles and queens, of what use would they be, or where wasthe gain of risking life to win them?

'So they forbore us, and night came on moonless and dark; and it wasthe early spring season, when the days are not yet long, and so bynight 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 ourcompany, we were but two hundred and thirty and five of men and womenand children. For there were an hundred and thirty and three grownmen of all ages, and of women grown seventy and five, and one scoreand seven children, whereof I was one; for, as thou mayst deem, itwas easier for grown men with weapons in their hands to escape fromthat slaughter than for women and children. 

'There sat we in yonder Doom-ring and took counsel, and to some itseemed good that we should all dwell together in Shadowy Vale, andbeset the skirts of the foemen till the days should better; butothers deemed that there was little avail therein; and there was amighty 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 thebanquet was made bitter with defeat, yet did the meat seem wholesometo 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 andthe swains and the women and children. Hateful are the folk there, and full of malice, but soft withal and dastardly. Let us go downthither and make ourselves strong amongst them, and sell our valourfor their wealth till we come to rule them, and they make us theirkings, and we establish the Folk of the Wolf amongst the aliens; thenwill 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 mybrother Folk-might (for that is his name in the kindred). And Isorrowed at his departure, for he had borne me thither out of theflames and the clash of swords and the press of battle, and to me hadhe ever been kind and loving, albeit he hath had the Words of hardand 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 morechildren were born, for amongst us were men and women to whom it waslawful to wed with each other. Even with this scanty remnant wasleft some of the life of the kindred of old days; and after we hadbeen 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, andwe only, knew of, and would fall upon the Aliens in Silver-dale asoccasion served, and lift their goods both live and dead; and thisbecame both a craft and a pastime amongst us. Nor may I hide that wesometimes went lifting otherwhere; for in the summer and autumn wewould fare west a little and abide in the woods the season through, and hunt the deer thereof, and whiles would we drive the spoil fromthe scattered folk not far from your Shepherd-Folk; but with theShepherds themselves and with you Dalesmen we meddled not. 

'Now that little wood-lawn with the toft of an ancient dwelling init, wherein, saith Bow-may, thou didst once rest, was one of oursummer abodes; and later on we built the hall under the pine-woodthat 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 invery sooth as if the Spirit of the Wolf was with us, and theroughness of the Waste made us fierce; and law we had not and heedednot, though love was amongst us. '

She stopped awhile and fell a-musing, and her face softened, and sheturned to him with that sweet happy look upon it and said:

'Desolate and dreary is the Dale, thou deemest, friend; and yet forme I love it and its dark-green water, and it is to me as if theFathers of the kindred visit it and hold converse with us; and thereI grew up when I was little, before I knew what a woman was, andstrange communings had I with the wilderness. Friend, when we arewedded, and thou art a great chieftain, as thou wilt be, I shall askof thee the boon to suffer me to abide here at whiles that I mayremember the days when I was little and the love of the kindred waxedin me. '

'This is but a little thing to ask, ' said Face-of-god; 'I would thouhadst asked me more. '

'Fear not, ' she said, 'I shall ask thee for much and many things; andsome 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 sixyears wore, and I was grown a tall slim maiden, fleet of foot andable to endure toil enough, though I never bore weapons, nor havedone. So on a fair even of midsummer when we were together, the mostof us, round about this Hall and the Doom-ring, we saw a tall man inbright war-gear come forth into the Dale by the path that thoucamest, and then another and another till there were two score andseven men-at-arms standing on the grass below the scree yonder; bythat time had we gotten some weapons in our hands, and we stoodtogether to meet the new-comers, but they drew no sword and notchedno shaft, but came towards us laughing and joyous, and lo! it was mybrother Folk-might and his men, those that were left of them, comeback to us from the Westland. 

'Glad indeed was I to behold him; and for him when he had taken me inhis arms and looked up and down the Dale, he cried out: 'In manyfair places and many rich dwellings have I been; but this is the hourthat I have looked for. '

'Now when we asked him concerning Stone-wolf and the others who weremissing (for ten tens of stalwarth men had fared to the Westland), heswept out his hand toward the west and said with a solemn face:"There they lie, and grass groweth over their bones, and we who havecome aback, and ye who have abided, these are now the children of theWolf: there are no more now on the earth. "

'Let be! It was a fair even and high was the feast in the Hall thatnight, and sweet was the converse with our folk come back. A gladman was my brother Folk-might when he heard that for years past wehad been lifting the gear of men, and chiefly of the Aliens inSilver-dale: and he himself was become learned in war and a deftleader of men. 

'So the days passed and the seasons, and we lived on as we might; butwith Folk-might's return there began to grow up in all our heartswhat had long been flourishing in mine, and that was the hope of oneday winning back our own again, and dying amidst the dear groves ofSilver-dale. Within these years we had increased somewhat in number;for if we had lost those warriors in the Westland, and some old menwho had died in the Dale, yet our children had grown up (I have nowseen twenty and one summers) and more were growing up. Moreover, after the first year, from the time when we began to fall upon theDusky Men of Silver-dale, from time to time they who went on suchadventures set free such thralls of our blood as they could fall inwith 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 andtwelve of such men, and a score of women-thralls withal. 

'Now during these seasons, and not very long ago, after I was a womangrown, the thought came to me, and to Folk-might also, that therewere kindreds of the people dwelling anear us whom we might so dealwith that they should become our friends and brothers in arms, andthat through them we might win back Silver-dale. 

'Of Rose-dale we wotted already that the Folk were nought of ourblood, feeble in the field, cowed by the Dusky Men, and at last madethralls to them; so nought was to do there. But Folk-might went toand fro to gather tidings: at whiles I with him, at whiles one ormore of Wood-father's children, who with their father and mother andBow-may have abided in the Vale ever since the Great Undoing. 

'Soon he fell in with thy Folk, and first of all with theWoodlanders, and that was a joy to him; for wot ye what? He got toknow that these men were the children of those of our Folk who hadsundered from us in the mountain passes time long and long ago; andhe loved them, for he saw that they were hardy and trusty, andwarriors at heart. 

'Then he went amongst the Shepherd-Folk, and he deemed them good meneasily stirred, and deemed that they might soon be won to friendship;and he knew that they were mostly come from the Houses of theWoodlanders, so that they also were of the kindred. 

'And last he came into Burgdale, and found there a merry and happyFolk, little wont to war, but stout-hearted, and nowise puny eitherof body or soul; he went there often and learned much about them, anddeemed that they would not be hard to win to fellowship. And hefound that the House of the Face was the chiefest house there; andthat the Alderman and his sons were well beloved of all the folk, andthat they were the men to be won first, since through them should allothers be won. I also went to Burgstead with him twice, as I toldthee erst; and I saw thee, and I deemed that thou wouldest lightlybecome our friend; and it came into my mind that I myself might wedthee, and that the House of the Face thereby might have affinitythenceforth 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 whenthou knowest my thought well? So be it. I saw thee both young andfair; and I knew thee to be the son of a noble, worthy, guileless manand of a beauteous woman of great wits and good rede. And I foundthee to be kind and open-handed and simple like thy father, and likethy mother wiser than thou thyself knew of thyself; and that thouwert desirous of deeds and fain of women. '

She was silent for a while, and he also: then he said: 'Didst thoudraw me to the woods and to thee?'

She reddened and said: 'I am no spell-wife: but true it is thatWood-mother made a waxen image of thee, and thrust through the heartthereof the pin of my girdle-buckle, and stroked it every morningwith an oak-bough over which she had sung spells. But dost thou notremember, Gold-mane, how that one day last Hay-month, as ye wereresting in the meadows in the cool of the evening, there came to youa minstrel that played to you on the fiddle, and therewith sang asong that melted all your hearts, and that this song told of theWild-wood, and what was therein of desire and peril and beguiling anddeath, and love unto Death itself? Dost thou remember, friend?'

'Yea, ' he said, 'and how when the minstrel was done Stone-face fellto telling us more tales yet of the woodland, and the minstrel sangagain 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 tosing to thee and thine, deeming that if thou didst hearken, thouwould'st seek the woodland and happen upon us. '

He laughed and said: 'Thou didst not doubt but that if we met, thoumightest 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 aretalking without guile to each other, mightest thou tell me whereforeit was that Folk-might made that onslaught upon me? For certain itis that he was minded to slay me. '

She said: 'It was sooth what I told thee, that whiles he groweth sobattle-eager that whatso edge-tool he beareth must needs come out ofthe scabbard; but there was more in it than that, which I could nottell thee erst. Two days before thy coming he had been down toBurgstead in the guise of an old carle such as thou sawest him withme in the market-place. There was he guested in your Hall, and oncemore saw thee and the Bride together; and he saw the eyes of lovewherewith she looked on thee (for so much he told me), and deemedthat thou didst take her love but lightly. And he himself looked onher with such love (and this he told me not) that he deemed noughtgood enough for her, and would have had thee give thyself up whollyto her; for my brother is a generous man, my friend. So when I toldhim on the morn of that day whereon we met that we looked to see theethat 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 spearthrough him. " "Wherefore?" said I; "can he serve our turn when he isdead?" Said he: "I care little. Mine own turn will I serve. Thousayest WHEREFORE? I tell thee this stripling beguileth to hertorment the fairest woman that is in the world--such an one as ismeet to be the mother of chieftains, and to stand by warriors intheir day of peril. I have seen her; and thus have I seen her. "Then said I: "Greatly forsooth shalt thou pleasure her by slayinghim!" And he answered: "I shall pleasure myself. And one day sheshall thank me, when she taketh my hand in hers and we go together tothe Bride-bed. " Therewith came over me a clear foresight of thehours to come, and I said to him: "Yea, Folk-might, cast the spearand draw the sword; but him thou shalt not slay: and thou shalt oneday see him standing with us before the shafts of the Dusky Men. " SoI spake; but he looked fiercely at me, and departed and shunned meall that day, and by good hap I was hard at hand when thou drewestnigh our abode. Nay, Gold-mane, what would'st thou with thy sword?Why art thou so red and wrathful? Would'st thou fight with mybrother because he loveth thy friend, thine old playmate, thykinswoman, and thinketh pity of her sorrow?'

He said, with knit brow and gleaming eyes: 'Would the man take heraway from me perforce?'

'My friend, ' she said, 'thou art not yet so wise as not to be a foolat whiles. Is it not so that she herself hath taken herself fromthee, since she hath come to know that thou hast given thyself toanother? Hath she noted nought of thee this winter and spring? Isshe well pleased with the ways of thee?'

He said: 'Thou hast spoken simply with me, and I will do no lesswith thee. It was but four days agone that she did me to wit thatshe knew of me how I sought my love on the Mountain; and she put meto sore shame, and afterwards I wept for her sorrow. '

Therewith he told her all that the Bride had said to him, as he wellmight, 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 fairchangeful mountain-stone, and gave it to him, and said:

'Thou shalt give her this and tell her whence thou hadst it; and tellher 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 soundsof the Dale, from the whistle of the plover down by the water-side tothe far-off voices of the children and maidens about the kine in thelower meadows. At last Gold-mane took up the word and said:

'Sweet friend, tell me the uttermost of what thou would'st have ofme. Is it not that I should stand by thee and thine in the Folk-moteof the Dalesmen, and speak for you when ye pray us for help againstyour foemen; and then again that I do my best when ye and we arearrayed for battle against the Dusky Men? This is easy to do, andgreat 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 forour 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 lamentme?'

'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 hertill she cast her eyes down before him. 

Then at last he spake, and the colour came and went in his face as hesaid: '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 havebeen seeking pleasant and cunning words, and can find none such. Buttell me this if thou wilt: dost thou desire me as I desire thee? oris it that thou wilt suffer me to wed thee and bed thee at last asmere 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 wiltgive 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 Ideem, there are this day but two people in the world, and that isthou 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 withme, and to me there are many in the world; and chiefly the Folk ofthe Wolf, amidst whose very heart I have grown up. Moreover, I canthink of her whom I have supplanted, the Bride to wit; and I knowher, and how bitter and empty her days shall be for a while, and howvain all our redes for her shall seem to her. Yea, I know hersorrow, and see it and grieve for it: so canst not thou, unless thouverily see her before thee, her face unhappy, and her voice changedand hard. Well, I will tell thee what thou askest. When I drew theeto me on the Mountain I thought but of the friendship and brotherhoodto be knitted up between our two Folks, nor did I anywise desire thylove of a young man. But when I saw thee on the heath and in theHall that day, it pleased me to think that a man so fair andchieftain-like should one day lie by my side; and again when I sawthat the love of me had taken hold of thee, I would not have theegrieved because of me, but would have thee happy. And now what shallI say?--I know not; I cannot tell. Yet am I the Friend, as erst Icalled myself. 

'And, Gold-mane, I have seen hitherto but the outward show and imageof thee, and though that be goodly, how would it be if thou didstshame me with little-heartedness and evil deeds? Let me see thee inthe Folk-mote and the battle, and then may I answer thee. '

Then she held her peace, and he answered nothing; and she turned herface from him and said:

'Out on it! have I beguiled myself as well as thee? These are butempty words I have been saying. If thou wilt drag the truth out ofme, this is the very truth: that to-day is happy to me as it is tothee, and that I have longed sore for its coming. O Gold-mane, Ospeech-friend, if thou wert to pray me or command me that I lie inthine arms to-night, I should know not how to gainsay thee. Yet Ibeseech thee to forbear, lest thy death and mine come of it. And whyshould we die, O friend, when we are so young, and the world lies sofair before us, and the happy days are at hand when the Children ofthe Wolf and the kindreds of the Dale shall deliver the Folk, and alldays shall be good and all years?'

They had both risen up as she spake, and now he put forth his handsto her and took her in his arms, wondering the while, as he drew herto him, how much slenderer and smaller and weaker she seemed in hisembrace than he had thought of her; and when their lips met, he feltthat she kissed him as he her. Then he held her by the shoulders atarms' length from him, and beheld her face how her eyes were closedand her lips quivering. But before him, in a moment of time, passeda picture of the life to be in the fair Dale, and all she would givehim there, and the days good and lovely from morn to eve and eve tomorn; and though in that moment it was hard for him to speak, at lasthe spoke in a voice hoarse at first, and said:

'Thou sayest sooth, O friend; we will not die, but live; I will notdrag 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 bythe 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 theair 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 allthat the world hath for a valiant man; and to such words I would nothearken, for in this hour I have no will to die, nor can I think ofdeath. '

She took his hand and led him forth without more words, and they wenthand in hand and paced slowly round the Doom-ring, the light airbreathing upon them till their faces were as calm and quiet as theirwont was, and hers especially as bright and happy as when he hadfirst seen her that day. 

The sun was sinking now, and only sent one golden ray into the valleythrough a cleft in the western rock-wall, but the sky overhead wasbright and clear; from the meadows came the sound of the lowing ofkine 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 theFriend. 

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, andbrought him up to the altar which was amidst of it; and the altar wasa great black stone hewn smooth and clean, and with the image of theWolf carven on the front thereof; and on its face lay the gold ringwhich the priest or captain of the Folk bore on his arm between theGod and the people at all folk-motes. 

So she said: 'This is the altar of the God of Earth, and often hathit been reddened by mighty men; and thereon lieth the Ring of theSons of the Wolf; and now it were well that we swore troth on thatring 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 theirhands, and therewith he spake aloud:

'I am Face-of-god of the House of the Face, and I do thee to wit, OGod of the Earth, that I pledge my troth to this woman, the Sun-beamof the Kindred of the Wolf, to beget my offspring on her, and to livewith 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 theWolf, pledge my troth to Face-of-god to lie in his bed and to bearhis children and none other's, and to be his speech-friend till Idie: 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 eachother long and sweetly, and then turned away from the altar anddeparted from the Doom-ring, going hand in hand together down themeadow, and as they went, the noise of the kine and the children grewnearer and nearer, and presently came the whole company of them rounda ness of the rock-wall; there were some thirty little lads andlasses driving on the milch-kine, with half a score of older maidsand grown women, one of whom was Bow-may, who was lightly andscantily clad, as one who heeds not the weather, or deems all monthsmidsummer. 

The children came running up merrily when they saw the Sun-beam, butstopped short shyly when they noted the tall fair stranger with her. They were all strong and sturdy children, and some very fair, butbrown with the weather, if not with the sun. Bow-may came up toGold-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 artcontent 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 maywell be that the world shall be growing better. '

She held the distaff which she bore in her hand (for she had beenspinning) 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 waryfirmness, as though foemen might be lurking nearby. The Sun-beamsmiled 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 wasdown 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 sopressed to depart from us? Last time we met thou wert not so hastyto sunder. '

They smiled on each other; and Bow-may looked on them and laughedoutright; then a flush showed in her cheeks through the tan of them, and she turned toward the children and the other women who werebusied 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 Ispeak; and now, my friend, I will tell thee something unasked whichhas to do with what e'en now thou didst ask me; for I would have theetrust me wholly, and know me for what I am. Time was I schemed andplanned for this day of betrothal; but now I tell thee it has becomeno longer needful for bringing to pass our fellowship in arms withthy people. Yea yesterday, ere he went on a hunt, whereof he shalltell thee, Folk-might was against it, in words at least; and yet asone who would have it done if he might have no part in it. So, ingood sooth, this hand that lieth in thine is the hand of a wilfulwoman, 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 tobe done, and the troth we have just plighted must be paid for. Sohearken, I bid thee. Dost thou care to know why the wheedling ofthee is no longer needful to us?'

He said: 'A little while ago I should have said, Yea, If thy lipssay the words. But now, O friend, it seemeth as if thine heart werealready become a part of mine, and I feel as if the chieftain weregrowing up in me and the longing for deeds: so I say, Tell me, for Iwere fain to hear what toucheth the welfare of thy Folk and theirfellowship 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 plightedmy troth to a mere goodly lad, but rather to a chieftain and awarrior. Now then hearken! Since I saw thee first in the autumnthis hath happened, that the Dusky Men, increasing both in numbersand insolence, have it in their hearts to win more than Silver-dale, and it is years since they have fallen upon Rose-dale and conqueredit, 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 willlook into Burgdale before long. They are already abroad in thewoods, and were it not for the fear of the Wolf they would be thickertherein, and faring wider; for we have slain many of them, comingupon 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 placeslest the Wolf howl on them. Yet beware! for they will gather innumbers 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 mustnow fight for it; and in that battle must ye needs join yourselves tous, 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 willhelp certain strangers and guests and thereby win some gain toyourselves, but whether ye have the hearts to fight for yourselves, and the wits to be the fellows of tall men and stout warriors whohave 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 needsfight in our battle. I have no longer aught to do to wheedle thee tolove 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 willI fail thee in the battle. I am not little-hearted, though I wouldhave given myself to thee for no reward. '

'It is well, ' said the Sun-beam; 'nought is undone by that which Ihave done. Moreover, it is good that we have plighted troth to-day. For Folk-might will presently hear thereof, and he must needs abidethe 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 thewarriors 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 gogreet them; they will rejoice in thee. '

So they went thither, and there stood eighty and seven men on thegrass below the scree and Folk-might their captain; and besides somevaliant women, and a few carles who were on watch on the waste, and ahalf score who had been left in the Dale, these were all the warriorsof the Wolf. They were clad in no holiday raiment, not even Folk-might, but were in sheep-brown gear of the coarsest, like tohusbandmen late come from the plough, but armed well and goodly. 

But when the twain drew near, the men clashed their spears on theirshields, 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 greetedhim and said:

'Hail, son of the Alderman! Here hast thou come into the ancientabode 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 clearedsomewhat and he said:

'Dalesman, it behoveth thy people to bestir them if ye would live andsee good days. Hath my sister told thee what is toward? Or whatsayest thou?'

'Hail to thee, son of the Wolf!' said Face-of-god. 'Thy sister hathtold me all; and even if these Dusky Felons were not our foe-menalso, 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 handtowards the warriors and up and down toward the Dale:

'These be my folk, and these only: and as to peace, only those of usknow of it who are old men. Yet is it well; and if we and yetogether be strong enough to bring back good days to the feeble menwhom the Dusky Ones torment in Silver-dale it shall be better yet. '

Then he turned about to his sister, and looked keenly into her eyestill she reddened, and took her hand and looked at the wrist andsaid:

'O sister, see I not the mark on thy wrist of the Ring of the God ofthe Earth? Have not oaths been sworn since yesterday?'

'True it is, ' she said, 'that this man and I have plighted trothtogether 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 hastfailed in. '

Said Face-of-god somewhat wrathfully: 'I shall keep it, whether thoubiddest me to keep it or break it. '

'That is well, ' said Folk-might, 'and then for all that hath gonebefore thou mayest in a manner pay, if thou art dauntless before thefoe. '

'I look to be no blencher in the battle, ' said Face-of-god; 'that isnot the fashion of our kindred, whosoever may be before us. Yea, andeven were it thy blade, O mighty warrior of the Wolf, I would do mybest to meet it in manly fashion. '

As he spake he half drew forth Dale-warden from his sheath, lookingsteadily into the eyes of Folk-might; and the Sun-beam looked uponhim 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 thegood blade: I see not the day when we twain shall hew at eachother. '

Then in a while he spake again:

'Thou must pardon us if our words are rough; for we have stood inrough places, where we had to speak both short and loud, whereasthere was much to do. But now will we twain talk of matters thatconcern chieftains who are going on a hard adventure. And ye women, do ye dight the Hall for the evening feast, which shall be the feastof the troth-plight for you twain. This indeed we owe thee, O guest;for little shall be thine heritage which thou shalt have with mysister, 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, andcarrying 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 byWood-grey's house. The carle cast them on the ground and then kneltdown and fell to telling them over; and then looked up and said:'Twelve yesterday in the wood where the battle was going on; and thismorning seven by the tarn in the pine-wood and six near this easternedge 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. Comenow apart with me, Face-of-god. '

So the others went their ways toward the Hall, while Folk-might ledthe Burgdaler to a sheltered nook under the sheer rocks, and therethey sat down to talk, and Folk-might asked Gold-mane closely of themuster of the Dalesmen and the Shepherds and the Woodland Caries, andhe was well pleased when Face-of-god told him of how many could marchto a stricken field, and of their archery, and of their weapons andtheir goodness. 

All this took some time in the telling, and now night was coming onapace, and Folk-might said:

'Now will it be time to go to the Hall; but keep in thy mind thatthese Dusky Men will overrun you unless ye deal with them betimes. These are of the kind that ye must cast fear into their hearts byfalling on them; for if ye abide till they fall upon you, they arelike 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 youwhereas ye shall fall on them unawares and destroy them as boys dowith 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 andmarket 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 outfor the slayer of Rusty and the ransacker of Harts-bane and Penny-thumb; and therefor shall I offer good blood-wite and theft-wite; andthy father shall take that; for he is a just man. Then shall I tellmy 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 beempty and the white swords be dancing in the air, and spears and axesshall 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 toFace-of-god and said:

'Come, guest, the windows of the Hall are yellow; let us to thefeast. 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 follyand my sister a worse one. But now forget that, and feast. '

Gold-mane arose, not very well at ease, for the man seemedoverbearing; yet how might he fall upon the Sun-beam's kindred, andthe captain of these new brethren in arms? So he spake not. ButFolk-might said to him:

'Yet I would not have thee forget that I was wroth with thee when Isaw thee to-day; and had it not been for the coming battle I haddrawn 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 Ishall tell thee that there is little manliness in thy chiding. Forhow 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 seeyou two standing together; and thou canst not give the Bride to me asI give my sister to thee. For I have seen her, and I have seen herlooking at thee; and I know that she will not have it so. '

Then they went on together toward the Hall, and Face-of-god wassilent 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 maybethe end. Now be we merry!'

So they went into the Hall together, and there was the Sun-beamgloriously arrayed, as erst in the woodland bower, and Face-of-godsat on the dais beside her, and the uttermost sweetness of desireentered into his soul as he noted her eyes and her mouth, that weregrown so kind to him, and her hand that strayed toward his. 

The Hall was full of folk, and all those warriors were there withWood-father and his sons, and Wood-mother, and Bow-may and many otherwomen; and Gold-mane looked down the Hall and deemed that he hadnever seen such stalwarth bodies of men, or so bold and meet forbattle: as for the women he had seen fairer in Burgdale, but thesewere fair of their own fashion, shapely and well-knit, and strong-armed and large-limbed, yet sweet-voiced and gentle withal. Nay, thevery lads of fifteen winters or so, whereof a few were there, seemedbold and bright-eyed and keen of wit, and it seemed like that if thewarriors fared afield these would be with them. 

So wore the feast; and Folk-might as aforetime amongst the healthscalled on men to drink to the Jaws of the Wolf, and the Red Hand, andthe Silver Arm, and the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged Sword. But nowhad Face-of-god no need to ask what these meant, since he knew thatthey were the names of the kindreds of the Wolf. They drank also tothe troth-plight and to those twain, and shouted aloud over thehealth and clashed their weapons: and Gold-mane wondered what echoof that shout would reach to Burgstead. 

Then sang men songs of old time, and amongst them Wood-wont stoodwith his fiddle amidst the Hall and Bow-may beside him, and they sangin turn to it sweetly and clearly; and this is some of what theysang:

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 thissong was made by a minstrel concerning a foray in the early days oftheir first abode in Shadowy Vale, and how in good sooth a maiden ledthe fray and was the captain of the warriors:

'Erst, ' she said, 'this was counted as a wonder; but now we are sofew that it is no wonder though the women will do whatsoever theymay. '

So they talked, and Gold-mane was very happy; but ere the good-nightcup was drunk, Folk-might spake to Face-of-god and said:

'It were well that ye rose betimes in the morning: but thou shaltnot go back by the way thou camest. Wood-wise and another shall gowith thee, and show thee a way across the necks and the heaths, whichis rough enough as far as toil goes, but where thy life shall besafer; and thereby shalt thou hit the ghyll of the Weltering Water, and so come down safely into Burgdale. Now that we are friends andfellows, it is no hurt for thee to know the shortest way to ShadowyVale. What thou shalt tell concerning us in Burgdale I leave thetale thereof to thee; yet belike thou wilt not tell everything till Icome to Burgstead at the spring market-tide. Now must I presently tobed; for before daylight to-morrow must I be following the hunt alongwith 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; andforsooth every week they draw nigher to this Dale; and some day theyshould happen upon us if we were not to look to it, and then wouldthere be a murder great and grim; therefore we scour the heaths roundabout, and the skirts of the woodland, and we fall upon these felonsin 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 theWestland; whiles in wolf-skins; whiles in white glittering gear, likethe Wights of the Waste: and in all guises these felons, for alltheir fierce hearts, fear us, and flee from us, and we follow andslay them, and so minish their numbers somewhat against the great dayof battle. '

'Tell me, ' said Gold-mane; 'when we fall upon Silver-dale shall theirthralls, the old Dale-dwellers, fight for them or for us?'

Said Folk-might: 'The Dusky Men will not dare to put weapons intothe hands of their thralls. Nay, the thralls shall help us; forthough they have but small stomach for the fight, yet joyfully whenthe fight is over shall they cut their masters' throats. '

'How is it with these thralls?' said Gold-mane. 'I have never seen athrall. '

'But I, ' said Folk-might, 'have seen a many down in the Cities. Andthere were thralls who were the tyrants of thralls, and held the whipover them; and of the others there were some who were not very hardlyentreated. But with these it is otherwise, and they all beargrievous pains daily; for the Dusky Men are as hogs in a garden oflilies. 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, andthey begrudge the delight of others therein. Therefore their thrallsknow no rest or solace; their reward of toil is many stripes, and thehealing of their stripes grievous toil. To many have they appointedto dig and mine in the silver-yielding cliffs, and of all the tasksis that the sorest, and there do stripes abound the most. Suchthralls art thou happy not to behold till thou hast set them free; aswe shall do. '

'Tell me again, ' said Face-of-god; 'Is there no mixed folk betweenthese Dusky Men and the Dalesmen, since they have no women of theirown, but lie with the women of the Dale? Moreover, do not the poorfolk of the Dale beget and bear children, so that there are thrallsborn of thralls?'

'Wisely thou askest this, ' said Folk-might, 'but thereof shall I tellthee, that when a Dusky Carle mingles with a woman of the Dale, thechild which she beareth shall oftenest favour his race and not hers;or else shall it be witless, a fool natural. But as for the childrenof these poor thralls; yea, the masters cause them to breed if sotheir masterships will, and when the children are born, they keepthem 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 morebeastly, and their thralls more hapless and down-trodden; and now atlast is come the time either to do or to die, as ye men of Burgdaleshall speedily find out. But now must I go sleep if I am to be whereI look to be at sunrise to-morrow. '

Therewith he called for the sleeping-cup, and it was drunk, and allmen fared to bed. But the Sun-beam took Gold-mane's hand ere theyparted, 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 erehe slept as if his own kindred were slipping away from him and hewere becoming a child of the Wolf. 'And yet, ' said he to himself, 'Iam become a man; for my Friend, now she no longer telleth me to do orforbear, and I tremble. Nay, rather she is fain to take the wordfrom me; and this great warrior and ripe man, he talketh with me asif I were a chieftain meet for converse with chieftains. Even so itis 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 forWood-wise: he was clad in his war-gear, and had his quiver at hisback and his bow in his hand, for Wood-father's children were allgood 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 thenight off of thee in our bath of the Shivering Flood and to put thymouth to the milk-bowl; but time for nought else: for I and Bow-mayare appointed thy fellows for the road, and it were well that we wereback home speedily. '

So Face-of-god leapt up and went forth from the Hall, and Wood-wiseled to where was a pool in the river with steps cut down to it in therocky bank. 

'This, ' said Wood-wise, 'is the Carle's Bath; but the Queen's islower down, where the water is wider and shallower below the littlemid-dale force. '

So Gold-mane stripped off his raiment and leapt into the ice-coldpool; and they had brought his weapons and war-gear with them; sowhen he came out he clad and armed himself for the road, and thenturned with Wood-wise toward the outgate of the Dale; and soon theysaw two men coming from lower down the water in such wise that theywould presently cross their path, and as yet it was little more thantwilight, so that they saw not at first who they were, but as theydrew 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 hadfirst seen her, her hair was wet and dripping with the river, herface fresh and rosy: she carried in her two hands a great bowl ofmilk, and stepped delicately, lest she should spill it. But Bow-maywas clad in her war-gear with helm and byrny, and a quiver at herback, and a bended bow in her hand. So they greeted each otherkindly, 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 shesmiled on him and drank, and the others after her till the bowl wasempty: then Bow-may put her hand on Wood-wise's shoulder, and theyled on toward the outgate, while those twain followed them hand inhand. But the Sun-beam said:

'This then is the new day I spoke of, and lo! it bringeth oursundering with it; yet shall it be no longer than a day when all issaid, and new days shall follow after. And now, my friend, I shallsee thee no later than the April market; for doubt not that I shallgo thither with Folk-might, whether he will or not. Also as I ledthee out of the house when we last met, so shall I lead thee out ofthe 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 onthe waste are rough. And now I bid thee have courage while my handholdeth thine. For afterwards I need not bid thee anything; for thouwilt have enough to do when thou comest to thy Folk, and must needsthink more of warriors then than of maidens. '

He looked at her and longed for her, but said soberly: 'Thou artkind, O friend, and thinkest kindly of me ever. But methinks it werenot well done for thee to wend with me over a deal of the waste, andcome 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 thatFolk-might hath gone forth toward the north-west, where he looketh tofall in with a company of the foemen. His battle shall be a guardunto us. '

'I pray thee turn back at the top of the outgate, ' said he, 'and benot venturesome. Thou wottest that the pitcher is not broken thefirst time it goeth to the well, nor maybe the twentieth, but at lastit cometh not back. '

She said: 'Nevertheless I shall have my will herein. And it is buta little way I will wend with thee. '

Therewith were they come to the scree, and talk fell down betweenthem as they clomb it; but when they were in the darksome passage ofthe rocks, and could scarce see one another, Face-of-god said:

'Where then is another outgate from the Dale? Is it not up thewater?'

'Yea, ' she said, 'and there is none other: at the lower end therocks rise sheer from out the water, and a little further down is agreat force thundering betwixt them; so that by no boat or raft mayye come out of the Dale. But the outgate up the water is called theRoad of War, as this is named the Path of Peace. But now are allways 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 herbreath 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 amongstmen of war, amongst outlaws who seek violence; thou hast heard me bidmy brother to count the slain, and I shrinking not; thou knowest (forI have told thee) how I have schemed and schemed for victoriousbattle. Yet I would not have thee think of me as a Chooser of theSlain, a warrior maiden, or as of one who hath no joy save in thebattle whereto she biddeth others. O friend, the many peaceful hoursthat I have had on the grass down yonder, sitting with my rock andspindle in hand, the children round about my knees hearkening to someold story so well remembered by me! or the milking of the kine in thedewy summer even, when all was still but for the voice of the waterand the cries of the happy children, and there round about me werethe dear and beauteous maidens with whom I had grown up, happy amidstall 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 ifwe had won all we needed; as if war and turmoil were over, after theyhad brought about peace and good days for our little folk. 

'And as for the days that be, are they not as that rugged pass, fullof bitter winds and the voice of hurrying waters, that leadeth yonderto Silver-dale, as thou hast divined? and there is nought good in itsave that the breath of life is therein, and that it leadeth topleasant places and the peace and plenty of the fair dale. '

'Sweet friend, ' he said, 'what thou sayest is better than well: fortime shall be, if we come alive out of this pass of battle and bitterstrife, when I shall lead thee into Burgdale to dwell there. Andthou wottest of our people that there is little strife and grudgingamongst them, and that they are merry, and fair to look on, both menand women; and no man there lacketh what the earth may give us, andit is a saying amongst us that there may a man have that which hedesireth save the sun and moon in his hands to play with: and ofthis gladness, which is made up of many little matters, what storymay be told? Yet amongst it shall I live and thou with me; and illindeed it were if it wearied thee and thou wert ever longing for someday of victorious strife, and to behold me coming back from battlehigh-raised on the shields of men and crowned with bay; if thine earsmust ever be tickled with the talk of men and their songs concerningmy warrior deeds. For thus it shall not be. When I drive the herdsit shall be at the neighbours' bidding whereso they will; not necksof men shall I smite, but the stalks of the tall wheat, and the bolesof the timber-trees which the woodreeve hath marked for felling; thestilts of the plough rather than the hilts of the sword shall hardenmy hands; my shafts shall be for the deer, and my spears for thewood-boar, till war and sorrow fall upon us, and I fight for theceasing of war and trouble. And though I be called a chief and ofthe blood of chiefs, yet shall I not be masterful to the goodman ofthe Dale, but rather to my hound; for my chieftainship shall be thatI shall be well beloved and trusted, and that no man shall grudgeagainst me. Canst thou learn to love such a life, which to meseemeth lovely? And thou? of whom I say that thou art as if thouwert 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 daylightwas bright about them; there she stayed her feet a moment and turnedto him and said:

'All this should I love even now, if the grief of our Folk were buthealed, and hereafter shall I learn yet more of thy well-belovedface. '

Therewith she laid her face to his and kissed him fondly, and put hishand to her side and held it there, saying: 'Soon shall we be one inbody and in soul. '

And he laughed with joy and pride of life, and took her hand and ledher on again, and said:

'Yet feel the cold rings of my hauberk, my friend; look at the spearsthat cumber my hand, and at Dale-warden hanging by my side. Thoushalt 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 standingbeside her bending his bow. Bow-may smiled on Gold-mane and rose up, and they all went on together, turning so that they went nearlyalongside 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; forif ye wend a little further as our faces are turned, ye come to thecrags over the place where the Shivering Flood goeth out of ShadowyVale. There when ye have clomb a little may'st thou stand on theedge of the rock-wall, and look down and behold the Flood swirlingand eddying in the black gorge of the rocks, and see presently thereek of the force go up, and hear the thunder of the waters as theypour over it: and all this about us now is as the garden of ourhouse--is it not so, Bow-may?'

'Yea, ' said she, 'and there are goodly cluster-berries to be gottenhereabout in the autumn; many a time have the Sun-beam and I reddenedour lips with them. Yet is it best to be wary when war is abroad andhot withal. '

'Yea, ' said the Sun-beam, 'and all this place comes into the story ofour House: lo! Gold-mane, two score paces before us a little on ourright hand those five grey stones. They are called the Rocks of theElders: for there in the first days of our abiding in Shadowy Valethe Elders were wont to come together to talk privily upon ourmatters. '

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 herright hand, notch a shaft on her bent bow, and Wood-wise, who was onhis 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-maycried 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 yonderout 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 helmand 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 aloud wild cry--Ha! ha! ha! ha! How-ow-ow!--ending in a long andexceeding great whoop like nought but the wolf's howl. Now Gold-manethinking swiftly, in a moment of time, as war-meet men do, judgedthat if the Sun-beam were hurt (and she had made no cry), it were yetwiser to fall on the foe before turning to tend her, or else allmight 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 hisshoulder, and two others were just in act of loosing at him. In amoment, as he rushed at them, one shaft went whistling by him, andthe other glanced from off his target; he cast a spear as he boundedon, and saw it smite one of the shooters full in the naked face, andsaw 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 theirshort steel axes. He thrust out his target against them, and thenlet the weight of his body come on his other spear, and drave itthrough the second shooter's throat, and even therewith was smittenon the helm so hard that, though the Alderman's work held out, hefell to his knees, holding his target over his head and striving todraw forth Dale-warden; in that nick of time a shaft whistled closeby his ear, and as he rose to his feet again he saw his foemanrolling over and over, clutching at the ling with both hands. Thenrang out again the terrible wolf-whoop from Wood-wise's mouth, andboth he and Bow-may loosed a shaft, for the two other foes had turnedtheir backs and were fleeing fast. Again Bow-may hit the clout, andthe Dusky Man fell dead at once, but Wood-wise's arrow flew over thefelon's shoulder as he ran. Then in a trice was Gold-mane boundingafter him like the hare just roused from her form; for it came intohis 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 companydown upon the Vale-dwellers. 

Strong and light-foot as any was Face-of-god, and though he wascumbered with his hauberk, yet was Iron-face's handiwork far lighterthan the war-coat of the Dusky Man, and the race was soon over. Thefelon turned breathless to meet Gold-mane, who drave his targetagainst him and cast him to earth, and as he strove to rise smote offhis head at one stroke; for Dale-warden was a good sword and theDalesman as fierce of mood as might be. There he let the felon lie, and, turning, walked back swiftly toward the Elders' Rocks, and foundthere Wood-wise and the dead foemen, for the carle had slain thewounded, and he was now drawing the silver arm-rings off the slainmen; for all these Dusky Felons bore silver arm-rings. But Bow-maywas walking towards the Sun-beam, and thitherward followed Gold-manespeedily. 

He found her sitting on a tussock of grass close by where she hadfallen, her face pale, her eyes eager and gleaming; she looked up athim 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? Suchdeeds make maidens pale. '

Said Bow-may: 'If ye will have the truth, Gold-mane, she is not wontto grow pale when battle is nigh her. Look you, she hath had thegift of a new delight, and findeth it sweeter and softer than she hadany thought of; and now hath she feared lest it should be taken fromher. '

'Bow-may saith but the sooth, ' said the Sun-beam simply, 'and kind itis 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 idleshooters of the Dusky Ones, whereabouts nigh to thee went theirshafts?'

Said the Sun-beam: 'One just lifted the hair by my left ear, andthat was not so ill-aimed; as for the other, it pierced my raiment bymy right knee, and pinned me to the earth, so that I tottered andfell, 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 rentstherein; 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 carlesshall surely come up from the Vale: because they will have heardWood-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 deadfelons and cast them where they be not seen if perchance any morestray hereby. For if they wind them, they may well happen on thepath down to the Vale. Also, my friend, it were well if thou wert tobid a good few of the carles that are in the Vale to keep watch andward about here, lest there be more foemen wandering about thewaste. '

She said: 'Thou art wise in war, Gold-mane; I will do as thoubiddest me. But soothly this is a perilous thing that the Dusky Menare 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 themsomewhere a good way aloof, so as to draw them off from wanderingover the waste. Also I will do my best to busy them when I am homein Burgdale. '

Therewith came up Wood-wise, and fell to talk with them; and his mindit was that these foemen were but a band of strayers, and had had noinkling of Shadowy Vale till they had heard them talking together asthey came up the path from the Vale, and that then they had made thatambush behind the Elders' Rocks, so that they might slay the men, andthen bear off the woman. He said withal that it would be best tocarry their corpses further on, so that they might be cast over thecliffs into the fierce stream of the Shivering Flood. 

Amidst this talk came up men from the Vale, a score of them, wellarmed; and they ran to meet the wayfarers; and when they heard whathad befallen, they rejoiced exceedingly, and were above all glad thatFace-of-god had shown himself doughty and deft; and they deemed hisrede wise, to set a watch thereabouts till Folk-might came home, andsaid 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 daynot over-long. '

Then she turned to Face-of-god and put her hand on his shoulder, andbrought her face close to his and spake to him softly:

'Doth this second parting seem at all strange to thee, and that I amnow so familiar to thee, I whom thou didst once deem to be a verygoddess? And now thou hast seen me redden before thine eyes becauseof 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 ifI were altogether such a maiden as ye warriors hang about for a ninedays' wonder, and then all is over save an aching heart--wilt thou doso with me? Tell me, have I not belittled myself before thee as if Iasked thee to scorn me? For thus desire dealeth both with maid andman. '

He said: 'In all this there is but one thing for me to say, and thatis 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 mydeeds and think well of them. Now is my heart full of joy, and onething only weigheth on it; and that is that my kinswoman the Bridebegrudgeth our love together. For this is the thing that of allthings 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 evenbefore all these that are looking on; for there is nought to belittleus therein, since we be troth-plight. '

And indeed those folk stood all round about them gazing on them, buta little aloof, that they might not hear their words if they wereminded to talk privily. For they had long loved the Sun-beam, andnow 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 hastethereover; and those men deemed that but meet and right, and clashedtheir weapons on their shields in token of their joy. 

Then Face-of-god turned about and strode out of the ring of men, withBow-may and Wood-wise beside him, and they went on their journey overthe necks towards Burgstead. But the Sun-beam turned slowly fromthat place toward the Vale, and two of the stoutest carles went alongwith her to guard her from harm, and she went down into the Valepondering all these things in her heart. 

Then the other carles dragged off the corpses of the Dusky Men tillthey had brought them to the sheer rocks above the Shivering Flood, and there they tossed them over into the boiling caldron of theforce, and so departed taking with them the silver arm-rings of theslain to add to the tale. 

But when they came back into the Vale the Sun-beam duly ordered thatwatch and ward to keep the ingate thereto, and note all that shouldbefall 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 thenafterwards turning somewhat to the west. They soon had to climb avery high and steep bent going up to a mountain-neck; and the wayover the neck was rough indeed when they were on it, and they toiledout of it into a barren valley, and out of the valley again on to arough neck; and such-like their journey the day long, for they weregoing athwart all those great dykes that went from the ice-mountainstoward the lower dales like the outspread fingers of a hand or theroots of a great tree. And the ice-mountains they had on their lefthands and whiles at their backs. 

They went very warily, with their bows bended and spear in hand, butsaw no man, good or bad, and but few living things. At noon theyrested in a valley where was a stream, but no grass, nought butstones and sand; but where they were at least sheltered from thewind, which was mostly very great in these high wastes; and thereBow-may drew meat and wine from a wallet she bore, and they ate anddrank, and were merry enough; and Bow-may said:

'I would I were going all the way with thee, Gold-mane; for I longsore to let my eyes rest a while on the land where I shall one daylive. '

'Yea, ' said Face-of-god, 'art thou minded to dwell there? We shallbe glad of that. '

'Whither are thy wits straying?' said she; 'whether I am minded to itor 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 wordsthan she will, and time presses now: Wood-father and Wood-mother, and I and my two brethren and this woman have ever been about andanigh the Sun-beam; and we deem that war and other troubles have madeus of closer kin to her than we were born, whether ye call itbrotherhood or what not, and never shall we sunder from her in lifeor in death. So when thou goest to Burgdale with her, there shall webe. '

Then was Face-of-god glad when he found that they deemed his weddingso 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 whenwe were at handy-strokes e'en now--is it but a cry of thine own or isit of thy Folk, and shall I hear it again?'

'Thou may'st look to hear it many a time, ' said Wood-wise, 'for it isthe cry of the Wolf. Seldom indeed hath battle been joined where menof our blood are, but that cry is given forth. Come now, to theroad!'

So they went their ways and the road worsened upon them, and toilsomewas the climbing up steep bents and the scaling of doubtful paths inthe cliff-sides, so that the journey, though the distance of it werenot so long to the fowl flying, was much eked out for them, and itwas not till near nightfall that they came on the ghyll of theWeltering Water some six miles above Burgstead. Forsooth Wood-wisesaid that the way might be made less toilsome though far longer byturning back eastward a little past the vale where they had rested atmidday; and that seemed good to Gold-mane, in case they should bewending hereafter in a great company between Burgdale and ShadowyVale. 

But now those two went with Face-of-god down a path in the side ofthe cliff whereby him-seemed he had gone before; and they came downinto 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 andtrusty faring-fellows. 

'Bow-may, ' said he, 'thou saidst a while ago that thou wouldst befain to look on Burgdale; and indeed it is fair and lovely, and yemay soon be in it if ye will. Ye shall both be more than welcome tothe house of my father, and heartily I bid you thither. For night ison 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 ifthou camest to any harm, and thou also, fellow Wood-wise. Daylightis a good faring-fellow over the waste. '

Said Bow-may: 'Thou art kind, Gold-mane, and that is thy wont, Iknow; and fain were I to-night of the candles in thine hall. But wemay not tarry; for thou wottest how busy we be at home; and Sun-beamneedeth me, if it were only to make her sure that no Dusky Man isbearing off thine head by its lovely locks. Neither shall we journeyin the mirk night; for look you, the moon yonder. '

'Well, ' said Face-of-god, 'parting is ill at the best, and I would Icould 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 thegift; 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 waybelike; 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 aguerdon 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 thismorning. '

'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 hishandiwork, and Wood-wise a good sword of the same, then were I a gladwoman, and this man a happy carle. '

Said Gold-mane: 'I am well pleased at thine asking, and so shallIron-face be when he heareth of thine archery; and how that Hall-facewere now his only son but for thy close shooting. But now must I tothe way; for my heart tells me that there may have been tidings inBurgstead 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 willbe 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 thestony tangle about the Weltering Water, which was now at middleheight, 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. Thenhe went upon his way, which was rough enough to follow by night, though the moon was shining brightly high aloft. Yet as he knew hisroad he made but little of it all, and in somewhat more than an hourand a half was come out of the pass into the broken ground at thehead of the Dale, and began to make his way speedily under the brightmoonlight toward the Gate, still going close by the water. But as hewent he heard of a sudden cries and rumour not far from him, unwontedin that place, where none dwelt, and where the only folk he mightlook to see were those who cast an angle into the pools and eddies ofthe Water. Moreover, he saw about the place whence came the criestorches moving swiftly hither and thither; so that he looked to hearof new tidings, and stayed his feet and looked keenly about him onevery side; and just then, between his rough path and the shimmer ofthe dancing moonlit water, he saw the moon smite on somethinggleaming; so, as quietly as he could, he got his target on his arm, and shortened his spear in his right hand, and then turned sharplytoward 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; anaxe gleamed bright in the moon, and he caught a great stroke on histarget, and therewith drave his left shoulder straight forward, sothat the man before him fell over into the water with a mightysplash; for they were at the very edge of the deepest eddy of theWater. Then he spun round on his heel, heeding not that anotherstroke had fallen on his right shoulder, yet ill-aimed, and not withthe full edge, so that it ran down his byrny and rent it not. So hesent the thrust of his spear crashing through the face and skull ofthe 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 aclear shout not far aloof, 'For the Face, for the Face! For the Burgand the Face!' He muttered, 'So ends the day as it begun, ' andshouted loud again, 'For the Burg and the Face!' And in a minutemore came breaking forth from the stone-heaps into the moonlit spacebefore the water the tall shapes of the men of Burgstead, the redtorchlight and the moonlight flashing back from their war-gear andweapons; for every man had his sword or spear in hand. 

Hall-face was the first of them, and he threw his arms about hisbrother and said: 'Well met, Gold-mane, though thou comest amongstus like Stone-fist of the Mountain. Art thou hurt? With whom hastthou 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 andcandle. '

'Two felons were they, ' said Hall-face, 'even such as ye saw lyingdead at Wood-grey's the other day. '

'Then may ye sheathe your swords and go home, ' said Gold-mane, 'forone lieth at the bottom of the eddy, and the other, thy feet arewell-nigh treading on him, Hall-face. '

Then arose a rumour of praise and victory, and they brought thetorches nigh and looked at the fallen man, and found that he wasstark dead; so they even let him lie there till the morrow, and allturned about toward the Thorp; and many looked on Face-of-god andwondered concerning him, whence he was and what had befallen him. Indeed, they would have asked him thereof, but could not get at himto ask; but whoso could, went as nigh to Hall-face and him as theymight, 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 woodseeking some adventure early in the morning the day beforeyesterday?'

'Sooth is that, ' said Face-of-god, 'and I came to Shadowy Vale, andthence am I come this morning. '

Said Hall-face: 'I know not Shadowy Vale, nor doth any of us. Thisis a new word. How say ye, friends, doth any man here know ofShadowy Vale?'

They all said, 'Nay. '

Then said Hall-face: 'Hast thou been amongst mere ghosts andmarvels, 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 forit), I will tell thee that I found there no marvels or strangewights, but a folk of valiant men; a folk small in numbers, but greatof heart; a folk come, as we be, from the Fathers and the Gods. Andthis, moreover, is to be said of them, that they are the foes ofthese felons of whom ye were chasing these twain. And these sameDusky Men of Silver-dale would slay them every man if they might; andif we look not to it they will soon be doing the same by us; for theyare many, and as venomous as adders, as fierce as bears, and as foulas swine. But these valiant men, who bear on their banner the imageof the Wolf, should be our fellows in arms, and they have good willthereto; and they shall show us the way to Silver-dale by blindpaths, so that we may fall upon these felons while they dwell theretormenting the poor people of the land, and thus may we destroy themas 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 deemedthem but a minstrel's tale; for Silver-dale we know not, of whichthou speakest so glibly, nor the Dusky Men, any more than the ShadowyVale. Howbeit, things have befallen these two last days so strangeand 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 thattidings 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 themore, as meseemeth it is not yet done, and that thou thyself shaltshare in the ending of it. It was the day before yesterday, that isthe day when thou departedst into the woods on that adventure whereofthou 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 themorning, but after sunrise, to the number of a score: we looked tomeet a bear and a she-bear with cubs in a certain place; for one ofthe Woodlanders, a keen hunter, had told us of their lair. Also wewere wishful to slay some of the wild-swine, the yearlings, if wemight. Therefore, though we had no helms or shields or coats offence, 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 Iwas one, bore our battle-swords, as we are wont ever to do, be thefoe beast or man. 

'Thus armed we went up Wildlake's Way and came to Carlstead, wherehalf-a-score Woodlanders joined themselves to us, so that we became aband. 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, forthe Woodlanders led us by crooked paths, but two hours wore away inour going, till we came to the place where they looked to find thebears. It is a place that may well be noted, for it is unlike thewood round about. There is a close thicket some two furlongs aboutof thorn and briar and ill-grown ash and oak and other trees, plantedby the birds belike; and it stands as it were in an island amidst ofa wide-spreading woodlawn of fine turf, set about in the most goodlyfashion with great tall straight-boled oak-trees, that seem to havebeen planted of set purpose by man's hand. Yea, dost thou know theplace?'

'Methinks I do, ' said Gold-mane, 'and I seem to have heard theWoodlanders give it a name and call it Boars-bait. '

'That may be, ' said Hall-face. 'Well, there we were, the dogs andthe men, and we drew nigh the thicket and beset it, and doubted notto find prey therein: but when we would set the dogs at the thicketto enter it, they were uneasy, and would not take up the slot, butgrowled and turned about this way and that, so that we deemed thatthey winded some fierce beast at our flanks or backs. 

'Even so it was, and fierce enough and deadly was the beast; forsuddenly we heard bow-strings twang, and shafts came flying; andIron-shield of the Upper Dale, who was close beside me, leapt up intothe air and fell down dead with an arrow through his back. Then Ibethought me in the twinkling of an eye, and I cried out, "The foeare on us! take the cover of the tree-boles and be wary! For theBurg and the Face! For the Burg and the Face!"

'So we scattered and covered ourselves with the oak-boles, butbesides Iron-shield, who was slain outright, two goodmen were sorelyhurt, to wit Bald-face, a man of our house, and Stonyford of theLower Dale. 

'I looked from behind my tree-bole, a great one; and far off down theglades I saw men moving, clad in gay raiment; but nearer to me, not ahundred yards from my cover, I saw an arm clad in scarlet come outfrom behind a tree-bole, so I loosed at it, and missed not; forstraight there tottered out from behind the tree one of those duskyfoul-favoured men like to those that were slain by Wood-grey. I hadanother shaft ready notched, so I loosed and set the shaft in histhroat, and he fell. 

'Straightway was a yelling and howling about us like the cries ofscalded curs, and the oak-wood swarmed thick with these felonsrushing on us; for it seems that the man whom I had slain was a chiefamongst them, or we judged so by his goodly raiment. 

'Methought then our last day was come. What could we do but runtogether again after we had loosed at a venture, and so withstandthem sword and spear in hand? Some fell beneath our shot, but notmany, for they came on very swiftly. 

'So they fell on us; but for all their fierceness and their numbersthey might not break our array, and we slew four and hurt many bysword-hewing and spear-casting and push of spear; and five of us werehurt and one slain by their dart-casting. So they drew off from us alittle, 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 saidthat we would all die together if needs must; and verily the stourwas hard. 

'Yet hearken! In that nick of time rose up a strange cry not farfrom 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 rangagain. 

'At first we deemed that here were come fresh foemen, and that wewere undone indeed; but when they heard it, the foe-men before usfaltered and gave way, and at last turned their backs and fled, andwe followed, keeping well together still: thereby the more part ofthese men escaped us, for they fled wildly here and there from thosewho bore that cry with them; so we knew that our work was being donefor us; therefore we stood, and saw tall men clad in sheep-brown weedrunning through the glades pursuing those felons and smiting themdown, till both fleers and pursuers passed out of our sight like menin a dream, or as when ye roll up a pictured cloth to lay it in thecoffer. 

'But to Stone-face's mind those brown-clad men were the Wights of theWood that be of the Fathers' blood, and our very friends; and whensome 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 hadbut just escaped from the first. Sooth to say, moreover, we haddivers 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 anoak sapling which he had torn from the thicket; but he had not slainthem, and by now they were just awakening from their swoon, and weresitting up looking round them with fierce rolling eyes, expecting thestroke, for Raven of Longscree was standing over them with a nakedwar-sword in his hand. But now that our blood was cool, we were lothto slay them as they lay in our hands; so we bound them and broughtthem away with us; and our own dead we carried also on such biers aswe might lightly make there, and with them three that were sogrievously hurt that they might not go afoot, these we left atCarlstead: 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 theHewer, a Woodlander. 

'So came we sadly at eventide to Burgstead with the two deadBurgdalers, and the captive felons, and the wounded of us that mightgo afoot; and ye may judge that they of Burgdale and our fatherdeemed these tidings great enough, and wotted not what next shouldbefall. Stone-face would have had those two felons slain there andthen; for no true tale could we get out of them, nor indeed any wordat all. But the Alderman would not have it so; and he deemed theymight 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 thatnew folk have gathered on our skirts. 

'So the captives were shut up in the red out-bower of our house; andour father was minded that thou mightest tell us somewhat of themwhen thou wert come home. But about dusk to-day the word went thatthey had broken out and gotten them weapons and fled up the Dale; andso it was. 

'But to-morrow morning will a Gate-thing be holden, and there it willbe 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'sttell 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 willabout it; yet when all is said, it will come to much the same tale asI have already told thee. Yet belike, if ye are minded to take upthe sword to defend you, I may tell you in what wise to lay hold onthe hilts. '

'And that is well, ' said Hall-face, 'and no less do I look for ofthee. But lo! here are we come to the Gate of the Burg that abidethbattle. '

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 greatgates were shut, and only a wicket was open, and a half score ofstout men in all their war-gear were holding ward thereby. They gaveplace to Hall-face and his company, albeit some of the wardersfollowed them through the wicket that they might hear the story told. 

The street was full of folk, both men and women, talking togethereagerly concerning all these tidings, and when they saw the men ofthe Hue-and-cry they came thronging about them, so that they mightscarce 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 iscome back with us; give place a little, that we may come into ourhouse. '

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 theyentered into the Hall, and saw much folk therein; and men weresitting at table, for supper was not yet over. But when they saw thenew-comers they mostly rose up from the board and stood silent tohear 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 thetidings. The runaways are slain; and it was Face-of-god who slewthem 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 thedais, while the others of the Hue-and-cry gat them seats where theymight at the endlong tables. 

But when Face-of-god came up on to the dais, there sat Iron-facelooking down on the thronged Hall with a ruddy cheerful countenance, and beside him sat the Bride; for he had caused her to be broughtthither when he had heard of the tidings of battle. She was daintilyclad in a flame-coloured kirtle embroidered with gold about the bosomand sleeves, and there was a fillet of golden roses on her ruddyhair. Her eyes shone bright and eager, and the pommels of her cheekswere flushed and red contrary to their wont. Needs must Gold-manesit by her, and when he came close to her he knew not what to do, buthe put forth his hand to her, yet with a troubled countenance; for hefeared her grief mingled with her beauty: as for her, she wavered inher mind whether she should forbear to touch him or not; but she sawthat men about were looking at them, and especially was Iron-facelooking on her: therefore she stood up and took Gold-mane's hand andkissed his face as she had been wont to do, and by then was her faceas white as paper; and her anguish pierced his heart, so that hewell-nigh groaned for grief of her. But Iron-face looked on her andsaid kindly:

'Kinswoman, thou art pale; thou hast feared for thy mate amidst allthese tidings of war, and still fearest for him. But pluck up aheart; for the man is a deft warrior for all his fair face, whichthou 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 theearth will not be a desert to thee even then. '

She looked at Iron-face, and the colour was come back to her facesomewhat, and she said:

'It is true; I have feared for him; for he goeth into perilousplaces. But for thee, thou art kind, and I thank thee for it. '

And therewith she kissed Iron-face and sat down in her place, andstrove to overmaster her grief, that her face might not be changed byit; for now were thoughts of battle, and valiant hopes arising inmen's hearts; and it seemed to her too grievous if she should marthat feast on the eve of battle. 

But Iron-face kissed and embraced his son and said: 'Art thou latecome from the waste? Hast thou seen new things? We look to have anotable tale from thee; though here also have been tidings, and it isnot unlike that we shall presently have new work on our hands. '

'Father, ' quoth Face-of-god, 'I deem that when thou hast heard mytale thou wilt think no less of it than that there are valiant folkto be holpen, poor folk to be delivered, and evil folk to be sweptfrom off the face of the earth. '

'It is well, son, ' said Iron-face. 'I see that thy tale is long; letit alone for to-night. To-morrow shall we hold a Gate-thing, andthen shall we hear all that thou hast to tell. Now eat thy meat anddrink a bowl of wine, and comfort thy troth-plight maiden. '

So Gold-mane sat down by the Bride, and ate and drank as he needsmust; but he was ill at ease and he durst not speak to her. For, onthe one hand, he thought concerning his love for the Sun-beam, andhow sweet and good a thing it was that she should take him by thehand and lead him into noble deeds and great fame, caressing him sosoftly and sweetly the while; and, on the other hand, there sat theBride beside him, sorrowful and angry, begrudging all that sweetnessof love, as though it were something foul and unseemly; and heavy onhim lay the weight of that grudge, for he was a man of a friendlyheart. 

Stone-face sat outward from him on the other side of the Bride; andhe leaned across her towards Gold-mane and said:

'Fair shall be thy tale to-morrow, if thou tellest us all thineadventure. 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 heardit, there shall be so many other things to tell of, that my taleshall seem of little account to thee--even as the saw saith that onenail driveth out the other. '

'Yea, ' said Stone-face, 'but one tale belike shall be knit up withthe others, as it fareth with the figures that come one after otheron the weaver's cloth; though one maketh not the other, yet onecometh of the other. '

Said Face-of-god: 'Wise art thou now, foster-father, but thou shaltbe wiser yet in this matter by then a month hath worn: and to-morrowshalt thou know enough to set thine hands a-work. '

So the talk fell between them; and the night wore, and the men ofBurgdale feasted in their ancient hall with merry hearts, littleweighed down by thought of the battle that might be and the troubleto 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, andthe Hall was astir and there was no little throng therein, the Bridecame up to him; for she had slept in the House of the Face by thebidding of the Alderman; and she spake to him before all men, andbade him come forth with her into the garden, because she would speakto him apart. He yeasaid her, though with a heavy heart; and to thefolk about that seemed meet and due, since those twain were deemed tobe troth-plight, and they smiled kindly on them as they went out ofthe Hall together. 

So they came into the garden, where the pear-trees were blossomingover the spring lilies, and the cherries were showering their flowerson the deep green grass, and everything smelled sweetly on the warmwindless spring morning. 

She led the way, going before him till they came by a smooth grasspath between the berry bushes, to a square space of grass about whichwere barberry trees, their first tender leaves bright green in thesun against the dry yellowish twigs. There was a sundial amidmost ofthe grass, and betwixt the garden-boughs one could see the long greyroof of the ancient hall; and sweet familiar sounds of the nestingbirds and men and women going on their errands were all about in thescented 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 inher voice:

'I ask thee if thou hast brought me the token whereon thou shaltswear to give me that gift. '

'Yea, ' said he; and therewith drew the ring from his bosom, and heldit 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 waswarm 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 itfrom off her finger for thee, and bade me bear thee a message. '

Her face flushed red: 'Yea, ' she said, 'and doth she send me amessage? Then doth she know of me, and ye have talked of metogether. 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 oathto me; lay thine hand on this ring and on this brazen plate wherebythe sun measures the hours of the day for happy folk, and swear bythe spring-tide of the year and all glad things that find a mate, andby 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-plateand said:

'By the spring-tide and the live things that long to multiply theirkind; by the God of the Earth that rejoiceth in the life of man, Iswear to give to my kinswoman the Bride the second man-child that Ibeget; to be hers, to leave or cherish, to love or hate, as her willmay bid her. ' Then he looked on her soberly and said: 'It is dulysworn; is it enough?'

'Yea, ' she said; but he saw how the tears ran out of her eyes andwetted the bosom of her kirtle, and she hung her head for shame ofher 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 itill done to stay there and behold her sorrow; and he knew not how toget him gone, and be glad elsewhere, and leave her alone. 

Then, as if she had read his thought, she looked up at him and saidsmiling a little amidst of her tears:

'I bid thee stay by me till the flood is over; for I have yet a wordto say to thee. '

So he stood there gazing down on the grass in his turn, and notdaring to raise his eyes to her face, and the minutes seemed long tohim: 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, andwhy, and what thou deemest will come of it?'

He said: 'I will tell the truth as I know it, because thou askest itof me, and not because I would excuse myself before thee. What haveI done? Yesterday I plighted my troth to wed the woman that I metlast autumn in the wood. And why? I wot not why, but that I longedfor 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 theworld 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 ourdeath. '

She said: 'And even so long shall I be sorry: so far are wesundered now. Alas! who looked for it? And whither shall I turn tonow?'

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 thatare in the Dale? Shall not these things avail thee? Much may growout of them; and thou with the mighty heart, so faithful andcompassionate!'

She said: 'What sayest thou? What may grow out of them? Yea, Ihave heard those rumours as a man sick to death heareth men talk oftheir business down in the street while he lieth on his bed; andalready 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 theaiding of the valiant, and the deliverance of the hapless?'

'Nay, ' she said, 'there is nought to me. I cannot think of it to-daynor 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 sayestright; it is not thou that hast done this, but the woman who sent methe ring and the message of an old saw. O that she should be born tosunder us! How hath it befallen that I am now so little to thee andshe so much?'

And again she was silent; and after a while Face-of-god spake kindlyand softly and said: 'Kinswoman, wilt thou for ever begrudge ourlove? this grudge lieth heavy on my soul, and it is I alone that haveto bear it. '

She said: 'This is but a light burden for thee to bear, when thouhast 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--norshall do ever. '

Then she held her peace a long while, nor did he speak one word: andthey were so still, that a robin came hopping about them, close tothe hem of her kirtle, and a starling pitched in the apple-tree hardby and whistled and chuckled, turning about and about, heeding themnought. Then at last she lifted up her face from looking on thegrass and said: 'These are idle words and avail nothing: one thingonly I know, that we are sundered. And now it repenteth me that Ihave shown thee my tears and my grief and my sickness of the earthand those that dwell thereon. I am ashamed of it, as if thou hadstsmitten me, and I had come and shown thee the stripes, and said, Seewhat thou hast done! hast thou no pity? Yea, thou pitiest me, andwilt 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 meback to life, and I shall once more take heed of the joy and sorrowof my people. Nay, it is most like that this I shall feign to doeven now. But if to-morrow be a new day, it is to-day now and notto-morrow, and so shall it be for long. Hereof belike we shall talkno more, thou and I. For as the days wear, the dealings between usshall be that thou shalt but get thee away from my life, and I shallbe nought to thee but the name of a kinswoman. Thus should it beeven wert thou to strive to make it otherwise; and thou shalt NOTstrive. So let all this be; for this is not the word I had to say tothee. But hearken! now are we sundered, and it irketh me beyondmeasure 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 nolonger. So I shall declare unto men that I will not wed thee; andbelike they may wonder why it is, till they see thee wedded to theWoman of the Mountain. Art thou content that so it shall be?'

Said Face-of-god: 'Nay, thou shalt not take this all upon thyself; Ialso shall declare unto the Folk that I will wed none but her, theMountain-Woman. '

She said: 'This shalt thou not do; I forbid it thee. And I WILLtake it all upon myself. Shall I have it said of me that I am unmeetto 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 whatsoeverI may say, thou shalt hold thy peace. This at least thou may'st dofor 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 shameof seeming to be thy cast-off; but because it is I who needs mustbear all the sorrow of our sundering; and I have the will to bear itgreater and heavier, that I may be as the women of old time, and theythat have come from the Gods, lest I belittle my life with malice andspite and confusion, and it become poisonous to me. Be at peace! beat peace! And leave all to the wearing of the years; and forget notthat which thou hast sworn!'

Therewith she turned and went from that green place toward the Houseof the Face, walking slowly through the garden amongst the sweetodours, beneath the fair blossoms, a body most dainty and beauteousof fashion, but the casket of grievous sorrow, which all thatgoodliness availed not. 

But Face-of-god lingered in that place a little, and for that littlewhile the joy of his life was dulled and overworn; and the daysbefore his wandering on the mountain seemed to him free and carelessand happy days that he could not but regret. He was ashamed, moreover, that this so unquenchable grief should come but of him, andthe 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 deedsthereof. But presently his thought wandered from all this, and as heturned away from the sundial and went his ways through the garden, hecalled to mind his longing for the day of the spring market, when heshould see the Sun-beam again and be cherished by the sweetness ofher love. 

CHAPTER XXV. OF THE GATE-THING AT BURGSTEAD

But now must he hasten, for the Gate-thing was to be holden two hoursbefore noon; so he betook him speedily to the Hall, and took hisshield and did on a goodly helm and girt his sword to his side, formen must needs go to all folk-motes with their weapons and clad inwar-gear. Thus he went forth to the Gate with many others, and therealready were many folk assembled in the space aforesaid betwixt theGate of the Burg and the sheer rocks on the face of which were thesteps that led up to the ancient Tower on the height. The Aldermanwas sitting on the great stone by the Gate-side which was hisappointed place, and beside him on the stone bench were the sixWardens of the Burg; but of the six Wardens of the Dale there werebut three, for the others had not yet heard tell of the battle or hadgot the summons to the Thing, since they had been about theirbusiness down the Dale. 

Face-of-god took his place silently amongst the neighbours, but menmade way for him, so that he must needs stand in front, facing hisfather and the Wardens; and there went up a murmur of expectationround about him, both because the word had gone about that he had atale of new tidings to tell, and also because men deemed him theirbest and handiest man, though he was yet so young. 

Now the Alderman looked around and beheld a great throng gatheredtogether, and he looked on the shadow of the Gate which thesouthering sun was casting on the hard white ground of the Thing-stead, and he saw that it had just taken in the standing-stone whichwas in the midst of the place. On the face of the said stone wascarven the image of a fighting man with shield on arm and axe inhand; for it had been set there in old time in memory of the man whohad bidden the Folk build the Gate and its wall, and had showed themhow to fashion it: for he was a deft house-smith as well as a greatwarrior; and his name was Iron-hand. So when the Alderman saw thatthis stone was wholly within the shadow of the Gate he knew that itwas the due time for the hallowing-in of the Thing. So he bade oneof the wardens who sat beside him and had a great slug-horn slungabout him, to rise and set the horn to his mouth. 

So that man arose and blew three great blasts that went bellowingabout the towers and down the street, and beat back again from theface of the sheer rocks and up them and over into the wild-wood; andthe sound of it went on the light west-wind along the lips of theDale toward the mountain wastes. And many a goodman, when he heardthe voice of the horn in the bright spring morning, left spade or axeor plough-stilts, or the foddering of the ewes and their younglings, and turned back home to fetch his sword and helm and hasten to theThing, though he knew not why it was summoned: and women wendingover 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 ofthe ford, and the threat of coming trouble smote heavy on theirhearts, for they knew that great tidings must be towards if a Thingmust needs be summoned so close to the Great Folk-mote. 

But now the Alderman stood up and spake amidst the silence thatfollowed the last echoes of the horn:

'Now is hallowed in this Gate-thing of the Burgstead Men and the Menof the Dale, wherein they shall take counsel concerning matters latebefallen, that press hard upon them. Let no man break the peace ofthe Holy Thing, lest he become a man accursed in holy places from theplain up to the mountain, and from the mountain down to the plain; aman not to be cherished of any man of good will, not be holpen withvictuals or edge-tool or draught-beast; a man to be sheltered underno roof-tree, and warmed at no hearth of man: so help us the Warriorand 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; andhe sat down again, and there was silence for a space. But presentlycame thrusting forward a goodman of the Dale, who seemed as if he hadcome hurriedly to the Thing; for his face was running down withsweat, his wide-rimmed iron cap sat awry over his brow, and he wasgirt 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 asI was going afield I met on the way a man akin to me, Fox of Upton towit, and he told me that men were being summoned to a Gate-thing. SoI turned back home, and caught up any weapon that came handy, andhere I am, Alderman, asking thee of the tidings which hath driventhee to call this Thing so hard on the Great Folk-mote, for I knowthem 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 menof Burgstead and the Dale, that we had not called this Gate-thing sohard on the Great Folk-mote had not great need been to look intotroublous matters. Long have ye dwelt in peace, and it is years onyears now since any foeman hath fallen on the Dale: but, as ye willbear in mind, last autumn were there ransackings in the Dale andamidst of the Shepherds after the manner of deeds of war; and ittroubleth us that none can say who wrought these ill deeds. Next, but a little while agone, was Wood-grey, a valiant goodman of theWoodlanders, slain close to his own door by evil men. These men wetook at first for mere gangrel felons and outcasts from their ownfolk: though there were some who spoke against that from thebeginning. 

'But thirdly are new tidings again: for three days ago, while someof the folk were hunting peaceably in the Wild-wood and thinking noevil, 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 ofour neighbours were hurt, and three slain outright; and now markthis, that those who there fell upon our folk were clad and armedeven as the two felons that slew Wood-grey, and moreover were likethem in aspect of body. Now stand forth Hall-face my son, and answerto 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 overhis shoulder, and seemed a doughty warrior. And Iron-face said tohim:

'Tell me, son, those whom ye met in the wood, and of whom ye broughthome two captives, how much like were they to the murder-carles atWood-grey's?'

Said Hall-face: 'As like as peas out of the same cod, and to oureyes all those whom we saw in the wood might have been sons of onefather and one mother, so much alike were they. '

'Yea, ' said the Alderman; 'now tell me how many by thy deeming fellupon you in the wood?'

Said Hall-face: 'We deemed that if they were any less thanthreescore, 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 thosethree?'

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 ofwolves, and thereat the foemen turned and fled, and there followed onthe fleers tall men clad in sheep-brown raiment, who smote them downas they fled. '

'Here then is the story, neighbours, ' said the Alderman, 'and ye maysee thereby that if those slayers of Wood-grey were outcast, theirband is a great one; but it seemeth rather that they were men of afolk whose craft it is to rob with the armed hand, and to slay therobbed; and that they are now gathering on our borders for war. Yet, moreover, they have foemen in the woods who should be fellows-in-armsof us. How sayest thou, Stone-face? Thou art old, and hast seenmany wars in the Dale, and knowest the Wild-wood to its innermost. 

'Alderman, ' said Stone-face, 'and ye neighbours of the Dale, maybethese foes whom ye have met are not of the race of man, but aretrolls and wood-wights. Now if they be trolls it is ill, for then isthe world growing worser, and the wood shall be right perilous forthose who needs must fare therein. Yet if they be men it is a worsematter; for the trolls would not come out of the waste into thesunlight of the Dale. But these foes, if they be men, are lustingafter our fair Dale to eat it up, and it is most like that they aregathering a huge host to fall upon us at home. Such things I haveheard of when I was young, and the aspect of the evil men who overranthe kindreds of old time, according to all tales and lays that I haveheard, 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, andthat, O Alderman, is thy son whom I have fostered, Face-of-god towit. Bid him answer to thy questioning, and tell us what he hathseen and heard of late; then shall we verily know the whole story asfar as it can be known. '

Then men pressed round, and were eager to hear what Face-of-god wouldbe saying. But or ever the Alderman could begin to question him, thethrong was cloven by new-comers, and these were the men who had beensent to bring home the corpses of the Dusky Men: so they had castloaded hooks into the Weltering Water, and had dragged up him whomFace-of-god had shoved into the eddy, and who had sunk like a stonejust where he fell, and now they were bringing him on a bier alongwith him who had been slain a-land. They were set down in the placebefore the Alderman, and men who had not seen them before lookedeagerly on them that they might behold the aspect of their foemen;and nought lovely were they to look on; for the drowned man wasalready bleached and swollen with the water, and the other, his facewas all wryed and twisted with that spear-thrust in the mouth. 

Then the Alderman said: 'I would question my son Face-of-god. Lethim stand forth!'

And therewith he smiled merrily in his son's face, for he wasstanding 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 wereslain at Carlstead; or if thou knowest aught of their folk?'

Said Face-of-god: 'Yesterday I saw six others like to these both inarray and of body, and three of them I slew, for we were in battlewith them early in the morning. '

There was a murmur of joy at this word, since all men took thesefelons 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, 'andthey slew the other three; or rather a woman of them slew thefelons. '

'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 ofthe Gods and the Fathers, valiant men, and guest-cherishing: richhave they been, and now are poor: and their poverty cometh of thesesame felons, who mastered them by numbers not to be withstood. As towhere they dwell: when I say the name of their dwelling-place menmock at me, as if I named some valley in the moon: yet came I toBurgdale thence in one day across the mountain-necks led by sureguides, and I tell thee that the name of their abode is ShadowyVale. '

'Yea, ' said Iron-face, 'knoweth any man here of Shadowy Vale, orwhere it is?'

None answered for a while; but there was an old man who was sittingon the shafts of a wain on the outskirts of the throng, and when heheard 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 hearose, 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 thysweet speech and thy minstrelsy; whereof I mind me well in the timewhen I was young and thou no longer young. '

'So it is, ' said the Fiddle. 'Now hearken! When I was very young Iheard of a vale lying far away across the mountain-necks; a valewhere the sun shone never in winter and scantily in summer; for mysworn foster-brother, Fight-fain, a bold man and a great hunter, hadhappened upon it; and on a day in full midsummer he brought methither; and even now I see the Vale before me as in a picture; amarvellous place, well grassed, treeless, narrow, betwixt greatcliff-walls of black stone, with a green river running through ittowards 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 ofthe like stones, over whose door was carven the image of a wolf withred gaping jaws, and within it (for we entered into it) were stonebenches on the dais. Thence we came away, and thither again we wentin late autumn, and so dusk and cold it was at that season, that weknew not what to call it save the valley of deep shade. But its realname we never knew; for there was no man there to give us a name ortell us any tale thereof; but all was waste there; the wimbrellaughed across its water, the raven croaked from its crags, the eaglescreamed over it, and the voices of its waters never ceased; and thuswe left it. So the seasons passed, and we went thither no more: forFight-fain died, and without him wandering over the waste was irksometo me; so never have I seen that valley again, or heard men tellthereof. 

'Now, neighbours, have I told you of a valley which seemeth to beShadowy 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 ShadowyVale?'

'Yea, on all points, ' said Face-of-god; 'he hath put before me apicture of the valley. And whereas he saith, that in his youth itwas waste, this also goeth with my knowledge thereof. For once wasit peopled, and then was waste, and now again is it peopled. '

'Tell us then more of the folk thereof, ' said the Alderman; 'are theymany?'

'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 afair dale called Silver-dale, the name whereof will be to you as aname in a lay; and there were they wealthy and happy. Then fell uponthem this murderous Folk, whom they call the Dusky Men; and theyfought and were overcome, and many of them were slain, and manyenthralled, and the remnant of them escaped through the passes of themountains and came back to dwell in Shadowy Vale, where theirforefathers had dwelt long and long ago; and this overthrow befellthem ten years agone. But now their old foemen have broken out fromSilver-dale and have taken to scouring the wood seeking prey; so theyfall upon these Dusky Men as occasion serves, and slay them withoutpity, as if they were adders or evil dragons; and indeed they beworse. And these valiant men know for certain that their foemen arenow of mind to fall upon this Dale and destroy it, as they have donewith others nigher to them. And they will slay our men, and lie withour women against their will, and enthrall our children, and tormentall those that lie under their hands till life shall be worse thandeath to them. Therefore, O Alderman and Wardens, and ye neighboursall, it behoveth you to take counsel what we shall do, and thatspeedily. '

There was again a murmur, as of men nothing daunted, but intent ontaking some way through the coming trouble. But no man said aughttill 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 talebefore. '

'Yea, ' said his son, 'but I knew it not, or but little of it, tilltwo days agone. In the autumn I wandered in the woodland, and on thefell I happened on a few of this folk dwelling in a booth by thepine-wood; and they were kind and guest-fain with me, and gave memeat and drink and lodging, and bade me come to Shadowy Vale in thespring, when I should know more of them. And that was I fain of; forthey are wise and goodly men. But I deemed no more of those that Isaw there save as men who had been outlawed by their own folk fordeeds that were unlawful belike, but not shameful, and were bidingtheir time of return, and were living as they might meanwhile. Butof the whole Folk and their foemen knew I no more than ye did, tilltwo days agone, when I met them again in Shadowy Vale. Also I thinkbefore long ye shall see their chieftain in Burgstead, for he hath aword for us. Lastly, my mind it is that those brown-clad men whohelped Hall-face and his company in the wood were nought but men ofthis Earl-kin seeking their foemen; for indeed they told me that theyhad come upon a battle in the woodland wherein they had slain theirfoemen. Now have I told you all that ye need to know concerningthese matters. '

Again was there silence as Iron-face sat pondering a question for hisson; then a goodman of the Upper Dale, Gritgarth to wit, spake andsaid:

'Gold-mane mine, tell us how many is this folk; I mean theirfighting-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 thatwill fight, whoever says them nay; and many of these are little worsein 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 wintersold whom ye may not hinder to fight if anything is a-doing. '

'This is no great host, ' said the Alderman; 'yet if they deem thereis little to lose by fighting, and nought to gain by sitting still, they may go far in winning their desire; and that more especially ifthey may draw into their quarrel some other valiant Folk more innumber 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 aughtto 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 thefield, either on mine own legs or on the legs of some four-footbeast, I would strike, if it were but one stroke, on these pests ofthe earth. And, Alderman, meseemeth we shall do amiss if we bid notthe Earl-folk of Shadowy Vale to be our fellows in arms in thisadventure. For look you, how few soever they be, they will be sureto know the ways of our foemen, and the mountain passes, and thesurest 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 ofthe Dusky Men who should so mar their happy life in the Dale wasgrowing up in them, and the more that hatred waxed, the more waxedtheir love of those valiant ones. 

Now Red-coat of Waterless spake again: he was a big man, both talland broad, ruddy-faced and red-haired, some forty winters old. Hesaid:

'Life hath been well with us of the Lower Dale, and we deem that wehave much to lose in losing it. Yet ill would the bargain be to buylife with thralldom: we have been over-merry hitherto for that. Therefore I say, to battle! And as to these men, these well-wishersof Face-of-god, if they also are minded for battle with our foes, wewere fools indeed if we did not join them to our company, were theybut one score instead of six. '

Men shouted again, and they said that Red-coat had spoken well. Thenone after other the goodmen of the Dale came and gave their word forfellowship in arms with the Men of Shadowy Vale, if there were suchas Face-of-god had said, which they doubted not; and amongst themthat spake were Fox of Nethertown, and Warwell, and Gritgarth, andBearswain, and Warcliff, and Hart of Highcliff, and Worm ofWillowholm, and Bullsbane, and Highneb of the Marsh: all these werestout 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 haveheard, 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 shieldeight long hundreds of men well-armed, and of the Shepherd-Folk fourhundreds, and of the Woodlanders two hundreds; and this is a goodlyhost if it be well ordered and wisely led. Now am I your Aldermanand your Doomster, and I can heave up a sword as well as anothermaybe, nor do I think that I shall blench in the battle; yet Imisdoubt me that I am no leader or orderer of men-of-war: thereforeye will do wisely to choose a wiser man-at-arms than I be for yourWar-leader; and if at the Great Folk-mote, when all the Houses andKindreds are gathered, men yeasay your choosing, then let him abide;but if they naysay it, let him give place to another. For timepresses. Will ye so choose?'

'Yea, yea!' cried all men. 

'Good is that, neighbours, ' said the Alderman. 'Whom will ye havefor 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, Iwill say that ye will do wisely to take him; for he is both deft ofhis hands and brisk; and moreover, of this matter he knoweth morethan all we together. Now therefore I declare him your War-leadertill the time of the Great Folk-mote. '

Then all men shouted with great glee and clashed their weapons; butsome few put their heads together and spake apart a little while, andthen one of them, Red-coat of Waterless to wit, came forward andsaid: 'Alderman, some of us deem it good that Stone-face, the oldman wise in war and in the ways of the Wood, should be named as acounsellor to the War-leader; and Hall-face, a very brisk and strongyoung 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 declaredStone-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 andgrudge hereafter. '

None spake save the Fiddle, who said: 'Alderman and War-leader, onething would I say: that if these foemen are anywise akin to thoseoverrunners of the Folks of whom the tales went in my youth (for Ialso as well as Stone-face mind me well of those tales concerningthem), it shall not avail us to sit still and await their onset. Forthen may they not be withstood, when they have gathered head andburst out and over the folk that have been happy, even as the watersthat overtop a dyke and cover with their muddy ruin the deep greengrass and the flower-buds of spring. Therefore my rede is, as soonas may be to go seek these folk in the woodland and wheresoever elsethey may be wandering. What sayest thou, Face-of-god?'

'My rede is as thine, ' said he; 'and to begin with, I do now callupon ten tens of good men to meet me in arms at the beginning ofWildlake's Way to-morrow morning at daybreak; and I bid my brotherHall-face to summon such as are most meet thereto. For this I deemgood, that we scour the wood daily at present till we hear freshtidings from them of Shadowy Vale, who are nigher than we to thefoemen. 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 thatwhich is nearest to our hands. Yet have we to deal with the matterof the fellowship with the Folk whom Face-of-god hath seen. This isa 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 withthis folk, or shall we abide the chieftain's coming?'

'By my rede, ' said Face-of-god, 'we shall abide his coming: forfirst, though I might well make my way thither, I doubt if I couldgive any the bearings, so that he could come there without me; andbelike I am needed at home, since I am become War-leader. Moreover, when your messenger cometh to Shadowy Vale, he may well chance tofind neither the chieftain there, nor the best of his men; for whilesare they here, and whiles there, as they wend following after theDusky 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 givebefore this Gate-thing sundereth?'

But no man came forward, and all men seemed well content and of goodheart; 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 thebreaking-up of the Thing, there came a stir in the throng and itopened, and a warrior came forth into the innermost of the ring ofmen, arrayed in goodly glittering War-gear; clad in such wise that atunicle of precious gold-wrought web covered the hauberk all but thesleeves thereof, and the hem of it beset with blue mountain-stonessmote against the ankles and well-nigh touched the feet, shod withsandals gold-embroidered and gemmed. This warrior bore a goodlygilded helm on the head, and held in hand a spear with gold-garlandedshaft, and was girt with a sword whose hilts and scabbard both wereadorned with gold and gems: beardless, smooth-cheeked, exceedingfair of face was the warrior, but pale and somewhat haggard-eyed:and those who were nearby beheld and wondered; for they saw thatthere was come the Bride arrayed for war and battle, as if she were amessenger from the House of the Gods, and the Burg that endureth forever. 

Then she fell to speech in a voice which at first was somewhat hoarseand broken, but cleared as she went on, and she said:

'There sittest thou, O Alderman of Burgdale! Is Face-of-god thy sonanywhere nigh, so that he can hear me?'

But Iron-face wondered at her word, and said: 'He is beside thee, ashe should be. ' For indeed Face-of-god was touching her, shoulder toshoulder. But she looked not to the right hand nor the left, butsaid:

'Hearken, Iron-face! Chief of the House of the Face, Alderman of theDale, and ye also, neighbours and goodmen of the Dale: I am a womancalled the Bride, of the House of the Steer, and ye have heard that Ihave 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; norwill I wed with him, nor any other, but will wend with you to thewar, and play my part therein according to what might is in me; norwill 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 hisbrows and said:

'Maiden, what are these words? What have we done to thee? Have Inot been to thee as a father, and loved thee dearly? Is not my songoodly and manly and deft in arms? Hath it not ever been the wont ofthe House of the Face to wed in the House of the Steer? and in thesetwo Houses there hath never yet been a goodlier man and a loveliermaiden than are ye two. What have we done then?'

'Ye have done nought against me, ' she said, 'and all that thou sayestis sooth; yet will I not wed with Face-of-god. '

Yet fiercer waxed the face of the Alderman, and he said in a loudvoice:

'But how if I tell thee that I will speak with thy kindred of theSteer, and thou shalt do after my bidding whether thou wilt orwhether thou wilt not?'

'And how will ye compel me thereto?' she said. 'Are there thralls inthe Dale? Or will ye make me an outlaw? Who shall heed it? Or Ishall 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 heforgat 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, whathast thou to say? Wilt thou let this woman go without a word? Whathath 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 tohim; whose hand was always seeking his, whose eyes were everfollowing 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 thingsshall change around us. I have looked about me and seen men happyand women content, and children weary for mere mirth and joy. And Ihave thought, in a day, or two days or three, all this shall bechanged, and the women shall be, some anxious and wearied withwaiting, some casting all hope away; and the men, some shall comeback to the garth no more, and some shall come back maimed anduseless, and there shall be loss of friends and fellows, and mirthdeparted, and dull days and empty hours, and the children wanderingabout marvelling at the sorrow of the house. All this I saw beforeme, and grief and pain and wounding and death; and I said: Shall Ibe any better than the worst of the folk that loveth me? Nay, thisshall never be; and since I have learned to be deft with mine handsin all the play of war, and that I am as strong as many a man, and ashardy-hearted as any, I will give myself to the Warrior and the Godof 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 burdenof my people, in the battle and out of it; and know every sorrow thatthe Dale hath; and cast aside as a grievous and ugly thing the bed ofthe warrior that the maiden desires, and the toying of lips and handsand soft words of desire, and all the joy that dwelleth in the Castleof Love and the Garden thereof; while the world outside is sick andsorry, and the fields lie waste and the harvest burneth. Even sohave I sworn, even so will I do. '

Her eyes glittered and her cheek was flushed, and her voice was clearand ringing now; and when she ended there arose a murmur of praisefrom the men round about her. But Iron-face said coldly:

'These are great words; but I know not what they mean. If thou wiltto the field and fight among the carles (and that I would not naysay, for it hath oft been done and praised aforetime), why shouldest thounot 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 haddied out of it now, and she looked weary and hapless as she answeredhim slowly:

'I will not wed with Face-of-god, but will fare afield as a virgin ofwar, as I have sworn to the Warrior. '

Then waxed Iron-face exceeding wroth, and he rose up before all menand cried loudly and fiercely:

'There is some lie abroad, that windeth about us as the gossamers inthe lanes of an autumn morning. '

And therewith he strode up to Face-of-god as though he had nought todo with the Thing; and he stood before him and cried out at him whileall men wondered:

'Thou! what hast thou done to turn this maiden's heart to stone? Whois it that is devising guile with thee to throw aside this worthywedding 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 allmen. 

Then the blood mounted to Iron-face's head, and he forgat folk andkindred and the war to come, and he cried so that all the place rangwith the words of his anger:

'Thou dastard! I see thee now; it is thou that hast done this, andnot the maiden; and now thou hast made her bear a double burden, andset 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 lastwinter. I am no fool; I know thee. Where hast thou hidden thestranger woman?'

Therewith he drew forth his sword and hove it aloft as if to hew downFace-of-god, who spake not nor flinched nor raised a hand from hisside. But the Bride threw herself in front of Gold-mane, while therearose 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 draggeddown the sword, and the big carle, Red-coat of Waterless, came upbehind him and cast his arms about his middle and drew him back; andpresently he looked around him, and slowly sheathed his sword, andwent back to his place and sat him down; and in a little while thenoise abated and swords were sheathed, and men waxed quiet again, andthe Alderman arose and said in a loud voice, but in the wonted way ofthe head man of the Thing:

'Here hath been trouble in the Holy Thing; a violent man hathtroubled it, and drawn sword on a neighbour; will the neighbours givethe dooming hereof into the hands of the Alderman?'

Now all knew Iron-face, and they cried out, 'That will we. ' So hespake again:

'I doom the troubler of the Peace of the Holy Thing to pay a fine, towit double the blood-wite that would be duly paid for a full-grownfreeman of the kindreds. '

Then the cry went up and men yeasaid his doom, and all said that itwas 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 shapeand come amongst us, and have bewitched us, so that friends and kinhave wrangled. And meseemeth that this is through the wizardry ofthese 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 ourwork; for there is much to do. '

All men yeasaid that; and Forkbeard of Lea went with those who hadborne 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 amI old enough to be thy father; so will I give thee a rede, and saythis: Face-of-god thy son is no liar or dastard or beguiler, but heis 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 hiskindness and love, and to such men as this many things happen. Moreover, he hath now become our captain, and is a deft warrior withhis hands, and as I deem, a sober and careful leader of men;therefore we need him and his courage and his skill of leading. Sorage not against him as if he had done an ill deed not to beforgiven--whatever he hath done, whereof we know not--for life islong before him, and most like we shall still have to thank him formany good deeds towards us. As for the maiden, she is both lovelyand wise. She hath a sorrow at her heart, and we deem that we knowwhat it is. Yet hath she not lied when she said that she would bearthe burden of the griefs of the people. Even so shall she do; andwhether she will, or whether she will not, that shall heal her owngriefs. For to-morrow is a new day. Therefore, if thou do after myrede, thou wilt not meddle betwixt these twain, but wilt remember allthat we have to do, and that war is coming upon us. And when that isover, we shall turn round and behold each other, and see that we arenot wholly what we were before; and then shall that which were hardto forgive, be forgotten, and that which is remembered be easy toforgive. '

So he spake; and Iron-face sat still and put his left hand to hisbeard as one who pondereth; but the Bride looked in the face of theold man the Fiddle, and then she turned and looked at Gold-mane, andher face softened, and she stood before the Alderman, and bent downbefore him and held out both her hands to him the palms upward. Thenshe said: 'Thou hast been wroth with me, and I marvel not; for thyhope, and the hope which we all had, hath deceived thee. But kindindeed hast thou been to me ere now: therefore I pray thee take itnot amiss if I call to thy mind the oath which thou swearedst on theHoly Boar last Yule, that thou wouldst not gainsay the prayer of anyman if thou couldest perform it; therefore I bid thee naysay notmine: 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 todeal so with my folk that they shall not hinder me. Also I pray theethat thou wilt put no shame upon Face-of-god my playmate and mykinsman, nor show thine anger to him openly, even if for a littlewhile thy love for him be abated. No more than this will I ask ofthee. '

All men who heard her were moved to the heart by her kindness and thesweetness of her voice, which was like to the robin singing suddenlyon a frosty morning of early winter. But as for Gold-mane, his heartwas smitten sorely by it, and her sorrow and her friendliness grievedhim out of measure. 

But Iron-face answered after a little while, speaking slowly andhoarsely, and with the shame yet clinging to him of a man who hasbeen 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; norhast thou asked me a thing which is over-hard. Yet indeed I wouldthat 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 thatthe 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, andwent about their business. 

And the talk of men it was that the breaking of the troth-plightbetween those twain was ill; for they loved Face-of-god, and as forthe Bride they deemed her the Dearest of the kindreds and the Jewelof the Folk, and as if she were the fairest and the kindest of allthe Gods. Neither did the wrath of Iron-face mislike any; but theysaid he had done well and manly both to be wroth and to let his wrathrun off him. As to the war which was to come, they kept a good heartabout it, and deemed it as a game to be played, wherein they mightshow themselves deft and valiant, and so get back to their merry lifeagain. 

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 halfwere gathered together on Wildlake's Way; and Face-of-god orderedthem into three companies. He made Hall-face leader over the firstone, and bade him hold on his way northward, and then to make forBoars-bait and see if he should meet with anything thereabout wherethe battle had been. Red-coat of Waterless he made captain of thesecond band; and he had it in charge to wend eastward along the edgeof the Dale, and not to go deep into the wood, but to go as far as hemight within the time appointed, toward the Mountains. Furthermore, he bade both Hall-face and Red-coat to bring their bands back toWildlake's Way by the morrow at sunset, where other goodmen should become to take the places of their men; and then if he and his companywere back again, he would bid them further what to do; but if not, asseemed likely, then Hall-face's band to go west toward the Shepherdcountry half a day's journey, and so back, and Red-coat's east alongthe Dale's lip again for the like time, and then back, so that theremight be a constant watch and ward of the Dale kept against theFelons. 

All being ordered Gold-mane led his own company north-east throughthe thick wood, thinking that he might so fare as to come nigh toSilver-dale, or at least to hear tidings thereof. This intent hetold 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 godown to Hell in his lifetime and come back safe with a tale thereof. However, whither thou wilt lead, thither will I follow, thoughassured death waylayeth us. '

And the old carle was joyous and proud to be on this adventure, andsaid, that it was good indeed that his foster-son had with him a manwell stricken in years, who had both seen many things, and learnedmany, and had good rede to give to valiant men. 

So they went on their ways, and fared very warily when they weregotten beyond those parts of the wood which they knew well. By thistime they were strung out in a long line; and they noted their roadcarefully, blazing the trees on either side when there were trees, and piling up little stone-heaps where the trees failed them. ForStone-face said that oft it befell men amidst the thicket and thewaste to be misled by wights that begrudged men their lives, so thatthey went round and round in a ring which they might not depart fromtill they died; and no man doubted his word herein. 

All day they went, and met no foe, nay, no man at all; nought but thewild things of the wood; and that day the wood changed little aboutthem from mile to mile. There were many thickets across their roadwhich they had to go round about; so that to the crow flying over thetree-tops the journey had not been long to the place where night cameupon them, and where they had to make the wood their bedchamber. 

That night they lighted no fire, but ate such cold victual as theymight carry with them; nor had they shot any venison, since they hadwith them more than enough; they made little noise or stir thereforeand fell asleep when they had set the watch. 

On the morrow they arose betimes, and broke their fast and went theirways till noon: by then the wood had thinned somewhat, and there waslittle underwood betwixt the scrubby oak and ash which were prettynigh all the trees about: the ground also was broken, and here andthere rocky, and they went into and out of rough little dales, mostof which had in them a brook of water running west and southwest; andnow Face-of-god led his men somewhat more easterly; and still forsome while they met no man. 

At last, about four hours after noon, when they were going lesswarily, because they had hitherto come across nothing to hinder them, rising over the brow of a somewhat steep ridge, they saw down in thevalley below them a half score of men sitting by the brook-sideeating and drinking, their weapons lying beside them, and along withthem stood a woman with her hands tied behind her back. 

They saw at once that these men were of the Felons, so they that hadtheir bows bent, loosed at them without more ado, while the othersran in upon them with sword and spear. The felons leapt up and ranscattering down the dale, such of them as were not smitten by theshafts; but he who was nighest to the woman, ere he ran, turned andcaught up a sword from the ground and thrust it through her, and thenext moment fell across the brook with an arrow in his back. 

No one of the felons was nimble enough to escape from the fleet-foothunters of Burgdale, and they were all slain there to the number ofeleven. 

But when they came back to the woman to tend her, she breathed herlast in their hands: she was a young and fair woman, black-hairedand dark-eyed. She had on her body a gown of rich web, but noughtelse: she had been bruised and sore mishandled, and the Burgdalecarles wept for pity of her, and for wrath, as they straightened herlimbs on the turf of the little valley. They let her lie there alittle, whilst they searched round about, lest there should be anyother poor soul needing their help, or any felon lurking thereby; butthey found nought else save a bundle wherein was another rich gownand divers woman's gear, and sundry rings and jewels, and therewithalthe weapons and war-gear of a knight, delicately wrought after theWestland fashion: these seemed to them to betoken other foul deedsof these murder-carles. So when they had abided a while, they laidthe dead woman in mould by the brook-side, and buried with her theother woman's attire and the knight's gear, all but his sword andshield, which they had away with them: then they cast the carcassesof the felons into the brake, but brought away their weapons and thesilver rings from their arms, which they wore like all the others ofthem whom they had fallen in with; and so went on their way to thenorth-east, full of wrath against those dastards of the Earth. 

It was hard on sunset when they left the valley of murder, and theywent no long way thence before they must needs make stay for thenight; and when they had arrayed their sleeping-stead the moon wasup, and they saw that before them lay the close wood again, for theyhad made their lair on the top of a little ridge. 

There then they lay, and nought stirred them in the night, andbetimes on the morrow they were afoot, and entered the abovesaidthicket, wherein two of them, keen hunters, had been aforetime, buthad not gone deep into it. Through this wood they went all daytoward 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 asmall plain, or shallow dale rather, with no great trees in it, butthorn-brakes here and there where the ground sank into hollows; alittle river ran through the midst of it, and winded round about aheight 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 woodbegan 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 andthe water, they espied a man standing in the river near the bank, whosaw them not, because he was stooping down intent on something in thebank or under it: so they gat them speedily down into the hollowwithout noise, that they might get some tidings of the man. 

Then Face-of-god bade his men abide hidden under the bushes and stoleforward quietly up the further bank of the hollow, his target on hisarm and his spear poised. When he was behind the last bush on thetop of the bent he was within half a spear-cast of the water and theman; so he looked on him and saw that he was quite naked except for aclout about his middle. 

Face-of-god saw at once that he was not one of the Dusky Men; he wasa black-haired man, but white-skinned, and of fair stature, thoughnot 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 westeringsunlight, he threw up a fish on to the bank, and looked uptherewithal, and beheld the weaponed man glittering, and uttered acry, but fled not when he saw the spear poised for casting. 

Then Face-of-god spake to him and said: 'Come hither, Woodsman! wewill not harm thee, but we desire speech of thee: and it will notavail thee to flee, since I have bowmen of the best in the hollowyonder. '

The man put forth his hands towards him as if praying him to forbearcasting, and looked at him hard, and then came dripping from out thewater, and seemed not greatly afeard; for he stooped down and pickedup the trouts he had taken, and came towards Face-of-god stringingthe last-caught one through the gills on to the withy whereon werethe others: and Face-of-god saw that he was a goodly man of somethirty 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 amuch 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 fromRose-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 thouhelp us against them?'

The man knit his brows and said: 'Yea, if ye will give me your wordnot to suffer me to fall into their hands alive. But whence artthou, to be so bold?'

Said Face-of-god: 'We are of Burgdale; and I will swear to thee onthe edge of the sword that thou shalt not fall alive into the handsof the Dusky Men. '

'Of Burgdale have I heard, ' said the man; 'and in sooth thou seemestnot such a man as would bewray a hapless man. But now had I bestbring you to some lurking-place where ye shall not be easily found ofthese devils, who now oft-times scour the woods hereabout. '

Said Face-of-god: 'Come first and see my fellows; and then if thouthinkest we have need to hide, it is well. '

So the man went side by side with him towards their lair, and as theywent Gold-mane noted marks of stripes on his back and sides, andsaid: 'Sorely hast thou been mishandled, poor man!'

Then the man turned on him and said somewhat fiercely: 'Said I notthat I had been a thrall of the Dusky Men? how then should I haveescaped tormenting and scourging, if I had been with them for butthree days?'

As he spake they came about a thorn-bush, and there were the Burgdalemen 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 tohurt me. '

'Poor man!' said Face-of-god; 'these are thy friends, unless thoubewrayest us. '

Then he cried aloud to his folk: 'Here is now a good hap! this is arunaway thrall of the Dusky Men; of him shall we hear tidings; socherish him all ye may. '

So the carles thronged about him and bestirred themselves to helphim, and one gave him his surcoat for a kirtle, and another cast acloak about him; and they brought him meat and drink, such as theyhad ready to hand: and the man looked as if he scarce believed inall this, but deemed himself to be in a dream. But presently heturned to Face-of-god and said:

'Now I see so many men and weapons I deem that ye have no need toskulk in caves to-night, though I know of good ones: yet shall ye dowell not to light a fire till moon-setting; for the flame ye maylightly hide, but the smoke may be seen from far aloof. '

But they bade him to meat, and he needed no second bidding but atelustily, and they gave him wine, and he drank a great draught andsighed as for joy. Then he said in a trembling voice, as though hefeared a naysay:

'If ye are from Burgdale ye shall be faring back again presently; andI pray you to take me with you. '

Said Face-of-god: 'Yea surely, friend, that will we do, and rejoicein thee. '

Then he drank another cup which Warcliff held out to him, and spakeagain: 'Yet if ye would abide here till about noon to-morrow, ormayhappen 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 themthat ye shall have small gain of their company; for poor wretchedfolk they be, like to myself. Yet since ye seek for tidings, hereinmight they do you more service than I; for amongst them are some whocame out of the hapless Dale within this moon; and it is six monthssince I escaped. Moreover, though they may look spent and outwornnow, yet if ye give them a little rest, and feed them well, theyshall yet do many a day's work for you: and I tell you that if yetake them for thralls, and put collars on their necks, and use themno worse than a goodman useth his oxen and his asses, beating themnot save when they are idle or at fault, it shall be to them as ifthey were come to heaven out of hell, and to such goodhap as theyhave not thought of, save in dreams, for many and many a day. Andthus I entreat you to do because ye seem to me to be happy andmerciful men, who will not begrudge us this happiness. '

The carles of Burgdale listened eagerly to what he said, and theylooked at him with great eyes and marvelled; and their hearts weremoved with pity towards him; and Stone-face said:

'Herein, O War-leader, need I give thee no rede, for thou mayst seeclearly that all we deem that we should lose our manhood and becomethe dastards of the Warrior if we did not abide the coming of thesepoor men, and take them back to the Dale, and cherish them. '

'Yea, ' said Wolf of Whitegarth, 'and great thanks we owe to this manthat he biddeth us this: for great will be the gain to us if webecome so like the Gods that we may deliver the poor from misery. Now must I needs think how they shall wonder when they come toBurgdale 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 theDale, but therein are all men friends and neighbours, and even soshall ye be. '

And he fell a-musing, when he bethought him of how little he hadknown of sorrow. 

But that man, when he beheld the happy faces of the Burgdalers, andhearkened to their friendly voices, and understood what they said, and he also was become strong with the meat and drink, he bowed hishead adown and wept a long while; and they meddled not with him, tillhe turned again to them and said:

'Since ye are in arms, and seem to be seeking your foemen, I supposeye wot that these tyrants and man-quellers will fall upon you inBurgdale ere the summer is well worn. '

'So much we deem indeed, ' said Face-of-god, 'but we were fain to hearthe 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 therewere fair dales to the south which they would overrun. Man would sayto man: We were over many in Silver-dale, and we needed morethralls, because those we had were lessening, and especially thewomen; now are we more at ease in Rose-dale, though we have sentthralls to Silver-dale; but yet we can bear no more men from thenceto 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, whetherwe come back to Rose-dale or no. Such talk did I hear then with mineown ears: but some of those whom I shall bring to you to-morrowshall know better what is doing, since they have fled from Rose-dalebut a few days. Moreover, there is a man and a woman who have fledfrom Silver-dale itself, and are but a month from it, journeying allthe time save when they must needs hide; and these say that theirmasters have got to know the way to Burgdale, and are minded for itbefore the winter, as I said; and nought else but the ways thither dothey desire to know, since they have no fear. '

By then was night come, and though the moon was high in heaven, andlighted all that waste, the Burgdalers must needs light a fire forcooking their meat, whatsoever that woodsman might say; moreover, thenight was cold and somewhat frosty. A little before they had come tothat place they had shot a fat buck and some smaller deer, but ofother meat they had no great store, though there was wine enough. Sothey lit their fire in the thickest of the thorn-bush to hide it allthey might, and thereat they cooked their venison and the troutswhich the runaway had taken, and they fell to, and ate and drank andwere merry, making much of that poor man till him-seemed he wasgotten into the company of the kindest of the Gods. 

But when they were full, Face-of-god spake to him, and asked him hisname; and he named himself Dallach; but said he: 'Lord, this isaccording to the naming of men in Rose-dale before we wereenthralled: but now what names have thralls? Also I am notaltogether of the blood of them of Rose-dale, but of better and morewarrior-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 aweek's journey, making all diligence, and not being forced to hideand skulk like those runaways, ye shall come to the mouth thereoflying 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 cragsmenwith 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 agothere was a valiant folk dwelling therein, who were lords of thewhole dale, and that they were vanquished by the Dusky Men: butwhether they were all slain and enthralled we wot not; but we deem itotherwise. As for me it is of their blood that I am partly come; formy father's father came thence to settle in Rose-dale, and wedded awoman 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 agreat 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 softand delicate: for the Dale is exceeding fertile, and beareth wealthin abundance, both corn and oil and wine and fruit, and of beasts forman's service the best that may be. Would that there had beenbattle, and that I had died therein with those that had a heart tofight; 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 daywhen the Dusky Men bade us pay them tribute and give them houses todwell in and lands to live by. Then had we weapons in our hands, butno 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. Whatbefell, sayst thou? We sat quiet; we went about our work in fear andtrembling, for grim and hideous were they to look on. At first theymeddled not much with us, save to take from our houses what theywould of meat and drink, or raiment, or plenishing. And all this wedeemed we might bear, and that we needed no more than to toil alittle more each day so as to win somewhat more of wealth. But soonwe found that it would not be so; for they had no mind to till theteeming earth or work in the acres we had given them, or to sit atthe loom, or hammer in the stithy, or do any manlike work; it was wethat must do all that for their behoof, and it was altogether forthem that we laboured, and nought for ourselves; and our bodies wereonly so much our own as they were needful to be kept alive forlabour. Herein were our tasks harder than the toil of any mules orasses, save for the younger and goodlier of the women, whom theywould keep fair and delicate to be their bed-thralls. 

'Yet not even so were our bodies safe from their malice: for thesemen were not only tyrants, but fools and madmen. Let alone thatthere were few days without stripes and torments to satiate theirfury or their pleasure, so that in all streets and nigh any housemight you hear wailing and screaming and groaning; but moreover, though a wise man would not willingly slay his own thrall any morethan his own horse or ox, yet did these men so wax in folly andmalice, that they would often hew at man or woman as they met them inthe way from mere grimness of soul; and if they slew them it waswell. Thereof indeed came quarrels enough betwixt master and master, for they are much given to man-slaying amongst themselves: but whatprofit to us thereof? Nay, if the dead man were a chieftain, thenwoe betide the thralls! for thereof must many an one be slain on hisgrave-mound to serve him on the hell-road. To be short: we haveheard of men who be fierce, and men who be grim; but these we mayscarce believe us to be men at all, but trolls rather; and ill willit be if their race waxeth in the world. '

The Burgdale men hearkened with all their ears, and wondered thatsuch things could befall; and they rejoiced at the work that laybefore them, and their hearts rose high at the thought of battle inthat behalf, and the fame that should come of it. As for therunaway, they made so much of him that the man marvelled; for theydealt with him like a woman cherishing a son, and knew not how to bekind 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 goodwatch, and if ye will be ruled by me, ye will kindle no fire on themorrow, for the smoke riseth thick in the morning air, and is as abeacon. As for me, I shall leave you here to rest, and I myself willfare 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; buthe said: 'Nay, the moon is high, and it is as good as daylight tome, who could find my way even by starlight; and your tarrying hereis nowise safe. Moreover, if I could find those folk and bring thempart of the way by night and cloud it were well; for if we were takenagain, 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 Icome to Burgdale there will be time enough for resting and slumber. '

Said Face-of-god: 'Shall I not wend with thee to see these peopleand the lairs wherein they hide?'

The man smiled: 'Nay, earl, ' said he, 'that shall not be. For wotye what? If they were to see me in company of a man-at-arms theywould deem that I was bringing the foe upon them, and would flee, ormayhappen would fall upon us. For as for me, when I saw thee, thouwert close anigh me, so I knew thee to be no Dusky Man; but theywould see the glitter of thine arms from afar, and to them allweaponed men are foemen. Thou, lord, knowest not the heart of athrall, nor the fear and doubt that is in it. Nay, I myself mustcast off these clothes that ye have given me, and fare naked, lestthey mistrust me. Only I will take a spear in my hand, and sling aknife round my neck, if ye will give them to me; for if the worsthappen, I will not be taken alive. '

Therewith he cast off his raiment, and they gave him the weapons andwished him good speed, and he went his way twixt moonlight andshadow; but the Burgdalers went to sleep when they had set a watch. 

Early in the morning they awoke, and the sun was shining and thethrushes singing in the thorn-brake, and all seemed fair andpeaceful, and a little haze still hung about the face of the burgover the river. So they went down to the water and washed the nightfrom off them; and thence the most part of them went back to theirlair among the thorn-bushes: but four of them went up the dale intothe oak-wood to shoot a buck, and five more they sent out to watchtheir skirts around them; and Face-of-god with old Stone-face wentover a ford of the stream, and came on to the lower slope of theburg, and so went up it to the top. Thence they looked about to seeif aught were stirring, but they saw little save the waste and thewood, which on the north-east was thick of big trees stretching out along way. Their own lair was clear to see over its bank and thebushes thereof, and that misliked Face-of-god, lest any foe shouldclimb the burg that day. The morning was clear, and Face-of-godlooking north-and-by-west deemed he saw smoke rising into the airover the tree-covered ridges that hid the further distance towardthat airt, though further east uphove the black shoulders of theGreat that Waste and the snowy peaks behind them. The said smoke wasnot such as cometh from one great fire, but was like a thin veilstaining the pale blue sky, as when men are burning ling on theheath-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 Iwere 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 theeare these elves and wood-wights, that we meet them not? Grim thingsthere are in the woods, and things fair enough also: but meseemeththat the trolls and the elves of thy young years have been frightedaway. '

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, orget them away far off into the outermost wilds, where few men evercome. '

'Yea, ' said Face-of-god, 'that may well be. But deemest thou by thattoken that we shall be vanquished?'

'As for us, I know not, ' said Stone-face; 'but thy friends of ShadowyVale have been vanquished. Moreover, concerning these felons whomnow we are hunting, are we all so sure that they be men? Certain itis, that when I go into battle with them, I shall smite with no morepity than my sword, as if I were smiting things that may not feel thewoes of man. '

Said Face-of-god: 'Yea, even so shall it be with me. But whatthinkest thou of these runaways? Shall we have tidings of them, orshall Dallach bring the foe upon us? It was for the sake of thatquestion that I have clomb the burg: and that we might watch theland about us. '

'Nay, ' said Stone-face, 'I have seen many men, and I deem of Dallachthat he is a true man. I deem we shall soon have tidings of hisfellows; and they may have seen the elves and wood-wights: I wouldfain ask them thereof, and am eager to see them. '

Said Face-of-god: 'And I somewhat dread to see them, and their ragsand their misery and the weals of their stripes. It irked me to seeDallach when he first fell to his meat last night, how he ate like adog for fear and famine. How shall it be, moreover, when we havethem in the Dale, and they fall to the deed of kind there, as theyneeds must. Will they not bear us evil and thrall-like men?'

'Maybe, ' said Stone-face, 'and maybe not; for they have been thrallsbut for a little while: and I deem that in no long time shall ye seethem much bettered by plenteous meat and rest. And after all issaid, this Dallach bore him like a valiant man; also it was valiantof 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 shallbe our guests, and there be no Dusky Men amongst them. Come, let ushome!'

So Face-of-god looked and beheld from the height of the burg shapesof men grey and colourless creeping toward the lair from sunshine toshadow, like wild creatures shy and fearful of the hunter, or so hedeemed of them. 

So he turned away, angry and sad of heart, and the twain went downthe burg and across the water to their camp, having seen little totell of from the height. 

When they came to their campment there were their folk standing in aring round about Dallach and the other runaways. They made way forthe War-leader and Stone-face, who came amongst them and beheld theRunaways, that they were many more than they looked to see; for theywere of carles one score and three, and of women eighteen, all toldsave Dallach. When they saw those twain come through the ring of menand perceived that they were chieftains, some of them fell down ontheir knees before them and held out their joined hands to them, andkissed the Burgdalers' feet and the hems of their garments, while thetears streamed out of their eyes: some stood moving little andstaring before them stupidly: and some kept glancing from face toface of the well-liking happy Burgdale carles, though for a whileeven 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 diversconditions, and chiefly of three: and first there were seven ofRose-dale and five of Silver-dale late come to the wood (of theseSilver-dalers Dallach had told but of two, for the other three werebut just come). Of these twelve were seven women, and all, save twoof the women, were clad in one scanty kirtle or shirt only; for suchwas the wont of the Dusky Men with their thralls. They had broughtaway 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 theworst of all; they were so timorous and cringing, and most of themheavy-eyed and sullen and down-looking. Many of them had beengrievously mishandled: one man had had his left hand smitten off;another was docked of three of his toes, and the gristle of his noseslit up; one was halt, and four had been ear-cropped, nor did anylack weals of whipping. Of the Silver-dale new-comers the three menwere the worst of all the Runaways, with wild wandering eyes, butsullen also, and cringing if any drew nigh, and would not look anyonein the face, save presently Face-of-god, on whom they were soon fondto 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 thelast days of weather in the wood; for they had been bed-thralls ofthe Dusky Men. 

Such were the new-comers to the wood. But others had been, likeDallach, months therein; it may be said that there were eighteen ofthese, carles and queens together. Little raiment they had amongstthem, and some were all but stark naked, so that on these might wellbe seen as on Dallach the marks of old stripes, and of these alsowere there men who had been shorn of some member or other, and theywere all burnt and blackened by the weather of the woodland; yet forall their nakedness, they bore themselves bolder and more manlikethan the later comers, nor did they altogether lack weapons takenfrom 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 thewood instead of months; weather-beaten indeed were these, shaggy andrough-skinned like wild men of kind. Some of them had madethemselves skin breeches or clouts, some went stark naked; of weaponsof the Dale had they few, but they bore bows of hazel or wych-elmstrung with deer-gut, and shafts headed with flint stones; stavesalso of the same fashion, and great clubs of oak or holly: some ofthem also had made them targets of skin and willow-twigs, for thesewere the warriors of the Runaways: they had a few steel knivesamongst them, but had mostly learned the craft of using sharp flintsfor 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 theywere, and without hope of meeting their fellows again, they wentproudly and boldly amongst the others, overtopping them by the headand more. For the greater part of these men were somewhat short ofstature, though by nature strong and stout of body. 

It must be told that though Dallach had thus gotten all these manyRunaways together, yet had they not been dwelling together as onefolk; for they durst not, lest the Dusky Men should hear thereof andfall upon them, but they had kept themselves as best they could incaves and in brakes three together or two, or even faring alone asDallach did: only as he was a strong and stout-hearted man, he wentto and fro and wandered about more than the others, so that heforegathered with most of them and knew them. He said also that hedoubted not but that there were more Runaways in the wood, but thesewere all he could come at. Divers who had fled had died from time totime, and some had been caught and cruelly slain by their masters. They were none of them old; the oldest, said Dallach, scant of fortywinters, though many from their aspect might have been old enough. 

So Face-of-god looked and beheld all these poor people; and said tohimself, that he might well have dreaded that sight. For here was hebrought face to face with the Sorrow of the Earth, whereof he hadknown nought heretofore, save it might be as a tale in a minstrel'ssong. And when he thought of the minutes that had made the hours, and the hours that had made the days that these men had passedthrough, his heart failed him, and he was dumb and might not speak, though he perceived that the men of Burgdale looked for speech fromhim; but he waved his hand to his folk, and they understood him, forthey 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, andthey set them down on the grass and made themselves their carvers andserving-men, and bade them eat what they would of such as there was. Yet, indeed, it grieved the Burgdalers again to note how these folkwere driven to eat; for they themselves, though they were merry folk, were exceeding courteous at table, and of great observance ofmanners: whereas these poor Runaways ate, some of them like hungrydogs, and some hiding their meat as if they feared it should be takenfrom them, and some cowering over it like falcons, and scarce anywith a manlike pleasure in their meal. And, their eating over, themore part of them sat dull and mopish, and as if all things wereforgotten 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 toturn your faces to Burgdale without more tarrying. For we are over-nigh to Rose-dale, being but thus many in company. But when we cometo our next resting-place, then shall bring thee to speech with thelast-comers from Silver-dale; for there they talk with the tongue ofthe 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 theysat or lay upon the grass at rest for a little while: but him-seemedas 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 eyesand rolled down their cheeks. But those older Runaways of Silver-dale were not crouched down like most of the others, but strode upand down like beasts in a den; yet were the tears on the face of oneof these. Then Face-of-god constrained himself, and spake to thefolk, and said: 'We are now over-nigh to our foes of Rose-dale tolie here any longer, being too few to fall upon them. We will comehither again with a host when we have duly questioned these men whohave sought refuge with us: and let us call yonder height the Burgof the Runaways, and it shall be a landmark for us when we are on theroad to Rose-dale. '

Then the Burgdalers bade the Runaways courteously and kindly to ariseand take the road with them; and by that time were their men all comein; and four of them had venison with them, which was needful, ifthey were to eat that night or the morrow, as the guests had eatenthem 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 concerningRose-dale and its Dusky Men. Dallach told him that these were not somany as they were masterful, not being above eight hundreds of men, all fighting-men. As to women, they had none of their own race, butlay with the Daleswomen at their will, and begat children of them;and all or most of the said children favoured the race of theirbegetters. Of the men-children they reared most, but the women-children they slew at once; for they valued not women of their ownblood: but besides the women of the Dale, they would go at whiles inbands to the edges of the Plain and beguile wayfarers, and bring backwith them thence women to be their bed-thralls; albeit some of thesewere bought with a price from the Westland men. 

As to the number of the folk of Rose-dale, its own folk, he said theywould number some five thousand souls, one with another; of whom somethousand might be fit to bear arms if they had the heart thereto, asthey had none. Yet being closely questioned, he deemed that theymight fall on their masters from behind, if battle were joined. 

He said that the folk of Rose-dale had been a goodly folk before theywere enthralled, and peaceable with one another, but that now it wasa sport of the Dusky Men to set a match between their thralls tofight it out with sword and buckler or otherwise; and the vanquishedman, if he were not sore hurt, they would scourge, or shear somemember from him, or even slay him outright, if the match between theowners were so made. And many other sad and grievous tales he toldto Face-of-god, more than need be told again; so that the War-leaderwent along sorry and angry, with his teeth set, and his hand on thesword-hilt. 

Thus they went till night fell on them, and they could scarce see thesigns they had made on their outward journey. Then they made stay ina little valley, having set a watch duly; and since they were by thistime far from Rose-dale, and were a great company as regardedscattered bands of the foe, they lighted their fires and cooked theirvenison, and made good cheer to the Runaways, and so went to sleep inthe wild-wood. 

When morning was come they gat them at once to the road; and if theBurgdalers were eager to be out of the wood, their eagerness was asnought to the eagerness of the Runaways, most of whom could not beeasy now, and deemed every minute lost unless they were wending on tothe Dale; so that this day they were willing to get over the moreground, whereas they had not set out on their road till afternoonyesterday. 

Howsoever, they rested at noontide, and Face-of-god bade Dallachbring him to speech with others of the Runaways, and first that hemight talk with those three men of the kindreds who had fled fromSilver-dale in early days. So Dallach brought them to him; but hefound that though they spake the tongue, they were so few-spoken fromwildness and loneliness, at least at first, that nought could comefrom 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 thatpresent day. However, as to what Dallach had said concerning theDusky Men, they strengthened his words; and they said that the DuskyMen took no delight save in beholding torments and misery, and thatthey doubted if they were men or trolls. They said that since theyhad dwelt in the wood they had slain not a few of the foemen, waylaying them as occasion served, but that in this warfare they hadlost two of their fellows. When Face-of-god asked them of theirdeeming of the numbers of the Dusky Men, they said that before thosebands had broken into Rose-dale, they counted them, as far as theycould call to mind, at about three thousand men, all warriors; andthat somewhat less than one thousand had gone up into Rose-dale, andsome had died, and many had been cast away in the wild-wood, theirfellows knew not how. Yet had not their numbers in Silver-dalediminished; because two years after they (the speakers) had fled, came three more Dusky Companies or Tribes into Silver-dale, and eachof these tribes was of three long hundreds; and with their coming hadthe cruelty and misery much increased in the Dale, so that thethralls began to die fast; and that drave the Dusky Men beyond theborders of Silver-dale, so that they fell upon Rose-dale. When askedhow many of the kindreds might yet be abiding in Silver-dale, theirfaces clouded, and they seemed exceeding wroth, and answered, thatthey would willingly hope that most of those that had not been slainat the time of the overthrow were now dead, yet indeed they fearedthere were yet some alive, and mayhappen not a few women. 

By then must they get on foot again, and so the talk fell betweenthem; but when they made stay for the night, after they had donetheir meat, Face-of-god prayed Dallach bring to him some of thelatest-come folk from Silver-dale, and he brought to him the man andthe 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 andwildness, he was no less so from mere dulness and weariness ofmisery; but the woman's tongue went glibly enough, and it seemed topleasure her to talk about her past miseries. As aforesaid, she wasbetter clad than most of those of Rose-dale, and indeed might becalled gaily clad, and where her raiment was befouled or rent, it wasfrom the roughness of the wood and its weather, and not from thethralldom. She was a young and fair woman, black-haired and grey-eyed. She had washed herself that day in a woodland stream whichthey had crossed on the road, and had arrayed her garments as trimlyas she might, and had plucked some fumitory, wherewith she had made agarland 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 lookedon her greedily. The Burgdale carles drew near to her to hearken herstory, and looked kindly on the twain. She smiled on them, butespecially on Face-of-god, and said:

'Thou hast sent for me, lord, and I wot well thou wouldst hear mytale shortly, for it would be long to tell if I were to tell itfully, and bring into it all that I have endured, which has beenbitter enough, for all that ye see me smooth of skin and well-likingof body. I have been the bed-thrall of one of the chieftains of theDusky Men, at whose house many of their great men would assemble, sothat ye may ask me whatso ye will; as I have heard much talk and maycall it to mind. Now if ye ask me whether I have fled because of theshame that I, a free woman come of free folk, should be a mere thrallin the bed of the foes of my kin, and with no price paid for me, Imust needs say it is not so; since over long have we of the Dale beenthralls to be ashamed of such a matter. And again, if ye deem that Ihave fled because I have been burdened with grievous toil and beendriven thereto by the whip, ye may look on my hands and my body andye will see that I have toiled little therewith: nor again did Iflee because I could not endure a few stripes now and again; for suchusage do thralls look for, even when they are delicately kept for thesake 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. Butbefore me lay death both assured and horrible; so I took mine owncounsel, 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 thehouse and down the Dale by night and cloud, and hid for one whole dayin the Dale itself, where I trembled and feared, so that I deemed Ishould 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 thenight again we fled and reached the wild-wood before dawn, and well-nigh fell into the hands of those who were hunting us, and hadoutgone 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-mealover the land. This carle knew the passes of the wood, because hehad followed his master therein, who was a great hunter in thewastes, contrary to the wont of these men, and he had lain a night onthe burg yonder; therefore he brought me thither, because he knewthat thereabout was plenty of prey easy to take, and he had a bowwith him; and there we fell in with others of our folk who had fledbefore, and with Dallach; who e'en now told us what was hard tobelieve, that there was a fair young man like one of the Gods leadinga band of goodly warriors, and seeking for us to bring us into apeaceful and happy land; and this man would not have gone with himbecause 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 anycase, for I was weary of the wood and its roughness and toil, andthat if I had a new master he would scarcely be worse than my old onewas at his best, and him I could endure. So I went, and glad andglad I am, whatever ye will do with me. And now will I answer whatsoye 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 ifshe had heard any words to remember of late days concerning theaffairs of the Dusky Men and their intent; and he said:

'I pray thee, sister, be truthful in thine answer, for somewhat liethon it. '

She said: 'How could I speak aught but the sooth to thee, O lovelylord? The last word spoken hereof I mind me well: for my master hadbeen mishandling me, and I was sullen to him after the smart, and hemocked and jeered me, and said: Ye women deem we cannot do withoutyou, but ye are fools, and know nothing; we are going to conquer anew land where the women are plenty, and far fairer than ye be; andwe shall leave you to fare afield like the other thralls, or work inthe digging of silver; and belike ye wot what that meaneth. Also hesaid that they would leave us to the new tribe of their folk, farwilder than they, whom they looked for in the Dale in about a moon'swearing; so that they needs must seek to other lands. Also this sametalk would we hear whenever it pleased any of them to mock us theirbed-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 slainin the wood?'

'Yea, ' she said, and turned pale therewith and caught her breath asone choking; but said in a little while:

'This alone was it hard for me to tell thee amongst all the I griefsI have borne, whereof I might have told thee many tales, and will doone day if thou wilt suffer it; but fear makes this hard for me. Forin very sooth this was the cause of my fleeing, that my master wasbrought in slain by an arrow in the wood; and he was to be borne tobale and burned in three days' wearing; and we three bed-thralls ofhis, and three of the best of the men-thralls, were to be burnedquick on his bale-fire after sore torments; therefore I fled, and hida knife in my bosom, that I might not be taken alive; but sweet waslife 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 hadI noted it in my terror. The death of others, who were slain beforehim, and the loss of many, we knew not how, made them more bitterlycruel with us. '

And again was she weeping; but Face-of-god said kindly to her: 'Weepno more, sister, for now shall all thy troubles be over; I feel in myheart that we shall overcome these felons, and make an end of them, and there then is Burgdale for thee in its length and breadth, orthine own Dale to dwell in freely. '

'Nay, ' she said, 'never will I go back thither!' and she turned roundto him and kissed his feet, and then arose and turned a little towardher mate; and the carle caught her by the hand and led her away, andseemed glad so to do. 

So once again they fell asleep in the woods, and again the nextmorning fared on their way early that they might come into Burgdalebefore nightfall. When they stayed a while at noontide and ate, Face-of-god again had talk with the Runaways, and this time withthose of Rose-dale, and he heard much the same story from them thathe had heard before, told in divers ways, till his heart was sickwith the hearing of it. 

On this last day Face-of-god led his men well athwart the wood, sothat he hit Wildlake's Way without coming to Carl-stead; and he camedown into the Dale some four hours after noon on a bright day oflatter March. At the ingate to the Dale he found watches set, themen 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 innumber in the oak-wood nigh to Boars-bait, and had slain some andchased the rest, since they found it hard to follow them home as theyran for the tangled thicket: of the Burgdalers had two been slainand 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 alongthe Portway, the Runaways mingling with the Dalesmen. Strange showedamidst the health and wealth of the Dale the rags and misery andnakedness of the thralls, like a dream amidst the trim gaiety ofspring; and whomsoever they met, or came up with on the road, whatsohis business might be, could not refrain himself from following them, but mingled with the men-at-arms, and asked them of the tidings; andwhen they heard who these poor people were, even delivered thralls ofthe Foemen, they were glad at heart and cried out for joy; and manyof the women, nay, of the men also, when they first came across thatmisery from out the heart of their own pleasant life, wept for pityand love of the poor folk, now at last set free, and blessed theswords that should do the like by the whole people. 

They went slowly as men began to gather about them; yea, some of thegood folk that lived hard by must needs fare home to their houses tofetch cakes and wine for the guests; and they made them sit down andrest on the green grass by the side of the Portway, and eat and drinkto cheer their hearts; others, women and young swains, while theyrested went down into the meadows and plucked of the spring flowers, and twined them hastily with deft and well-wont fingers into chapletsand garlands for their heads and bodies. Thus indeed they coveredtheir nakedness, till the lowering faces and weather-beaten skins ofthose hardly-entreated thralls looked grimly out from amidst theknots of cowslip and oxlip, and the branches of the milk-whiteblackthorn bloom, and the long trumpets of the daffodils, of the huethat wrappeth round the quill which the webster takes in hand whenshe would pleasure her soul with the sight of the yellow growing uponthe dark green web. 

So they went on again as the evening was waning, and when they weregotten within a furlong of the Gate, lo! there was come theminstrelsy, the pipe and the tabor, the fiddle and the harp, and thefolk that had learned to sing the sweetest, both men and women, andRedesman 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 anduplifted spears; and then the flower-bedecked misery of the Runaways, men and women going together, gaunt, befouled, and hollow-eyed, withhere and there a flushed cheek or gleaming eye, or tear-bedewed face, as the joy and triumph of the eve pierced through their wontedweariness of grief; then the rest of the warriors, and lastly themingled crowd of Dalesfolk, tall men and fair women gaily arrayed, clean-faced, clear-skinned, and sleek-haired, with glancing eyes andruddy lips. 

And now Redesman turned about to the music and drew his bow acrosshis fiddle, and the other bows ran out in concert, and the harpsfollowed the story of them, and he lifted up his voice and sang thewords of an old song, and all the singers joined him and blendedtheir voices with his. And these are some of the words which theysang:

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, leaningagainst 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 onher head and a sword girt to her side in token of her oath to theGod. She had been in Hall-face's company in that last battle, andhad done a man's service there, fighting very valiantly, but had notbeen 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 andlooked forth on the throng, and when her eyes beheld the Runawaysamidst of the weaponed carles of Burgdale, her face flushed, and hereyes filled with tears as she stood, partly wondering, partly deemingwhat they were. She waited till Stone-face came by her, and then shetook the old man by the sleeve, and drew him apart a little and saidto him: 'What meaneth this show, my friend? Who hath clad thesefolk thus strangely; and who be these three naked tall ones, sofierce-looking, but somewhat noble of aspect?'

For indeed those three men of the kindreds, when they had gotten intothe Dale, and had rested them, and drunk a cup of wine, and when theyhad seen the chaplets and wreaths of the spring-flowers wherewiththey were bedecked, and had smelt the sweet savour of them, fell towalking proudly, heeding not their nakedness; for no rag had theyupon them save breech-clouts of deer-skin: they had changed weaponswith the Burgdale carles; and one had gotten a great axe, which hebore over his shoulder, and the shaft thereof was all done about withcopper; and another had shouldered a long heavy thrusting-spear, andthe third, an exceeding tall man, bore a long broad-bladed war-sword. Thus they went, brown of skin beneath their flower-garlands, theirlong hair bleached by the sun falling about their shoulders; highthey strode amongst the shuffling carles and tripping women of thelater-come thralls. But when they heard the music, and saw that theywere coming to the Gate in triumph, strange thoughts of old memoriesswelled 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 theRunaways whose hearts were cheered and softened: already were manyof them coming back to life, as they felt their worn bodies caressedby the clear soft air of Burgdale, and the sweetness of the flowersthat hung about them, and saw all round about the kind and happyfaces 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 thathath so dight them; and they are the images of what we shall be if welove foul life better than fair death, and so fall into the hands ofthe Felons, who were the masters of these men. As for the tall nakedmen, they are of our own blood, and kinsmen to Face-of-god's newfriends; and they are of the best of the vanquished: it was in earlydays 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 shallall be well. '

Therewith she smiled on him, and he departed, and she stood a littlewhile, as the throng moved on and was swallowed by the Gate, andlooked after them; and for all her pity for the other folk, shethought chiefly of those fearless tall men who were of the blood ofthose with whom it was lawful to wed. 

There she stood as the wind dried the tears upon her cheeks, thinkingof the sorrow which these folk had endured, and their stripes andmocking, their squalor and famine; and she wondered and looked on herown fair and shapely hands with the precious finger-rings thereon, and on the dainty cloth and trim broidery of her sleeve; and shetouched her smooth cheek with the back of her hand, and smiled, andfelt the spring sweet in her mouth, and its savour goodly in hernostrils; and therewith she called to mind the aspect of her lovelybody, as whiles she had seen it imaged, all its full measure, in theclear pool at midsummer, or piece-meal, in the shining steel of theWestland mirror. She thought also with what joy she drew the breathof life, yea, even amidst of grief, and of how sweet and pure andwell-nurtured she was, and how well beloved of many friends and thewhole folk, and she set all this beside those woeful bodies andlowering faces, and felt shame of her sorrow of heart, and the painit had brought to her; and ever amidst shame and pity of all thatmisery rose up before her the images of those tall fierce men, and itseemed to her as if she had seen something like to them in some dreamor imagination of her mind. 

So came the Burgdalers and their guests into the street of Burgsteadamidst 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 heand the Runaways alone were in the midst of it; and he spake in aloud voice and said:

'Men of the Dale and the Burg, these folk whom here ye see in such asorry plight are they whom our deadly foes have rejoiced to torment;let us therefore rejoice to cherish them. Now let those men comeforth who deem that they have enough and more, so that they may eachtake into their houses some two or three of these friends such aswould be fain to be together. And since I am War-leader, and havethe right hereto, I will first choose them whom I will lead into theHouse of the Face. And lo you! will I have this man (and he laid hishand on Dallach), who is he whom I first came across, and who found usall these others, and next I will have yonder tall carles, the threeof 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 Dallachalready 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 Imay bring them to the House of the Steer, and try if there be notsome good days yet to be found for them, wherein they shall butremember the past grief as an ugly dream. '

Then Face-of-god looked on her, and him-seemed he had never seen herso fair; and all the shame wherewith he had beheld her of late wasgone from him, and his heart ran over with friendly love towards heras she looked into his face with kindly eyes; and he said:

'Kinswoman, take thy choice as thy kindness biddeth, and happy shallthey be whom thou choosest. '

She bowed her head soberly, and chose from among the guests fourwomen of the saddest and most grievous, and no man of their kindredspake for going along with them; then she went her ways home, leadingone of them by the hand, and strange was it to see those twain goingthrough sun and shade together, that poor wretch along with thegoodliest 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, andanother two, and another three, and often would a man crave to gowith a woman or a woman with a man, and it was not gainsaid them. Sowere all the guests apportioned, and ill-content were those goodmenthat 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 hewill, and shall dwell with thee and me month about; but this firstmonth 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, wellfed and well clad and kindly cherished, it was marvellous how theywere bettered in aspect of body, and it began to be seen of them thatthey were well-favoured people, and divers of the women exceedinggoodly, black-haired and grey-eyed, and very clear-skinned and white-skinned; most of them were young, and the oldest had not seen aboveforty winters. They of Rose-dale, and especially such as had firstfled away to the wood, were very soon seen to be merry and kindlyfolk; but they who had been longest in captivity, and notably thosefrom Silver-dale who were not of the kindreds, were for a long timesullen and heavy, and it availed little to trust to them for thedoing of work; albeit they would follow about their friends ofBurgdale with the love of a dog; also they were, divers of them, somewhat thievish, and if they lacked anything would liefer take itby stealth than ask for it; which forsooth the Burgdale men took notamiss, but deemed of it as a jest rather. 

Very few of the Runaways had any will to fare back to their oldhomes, or indeed could be got to go into the wood, or, after a day ortwo, to say any word of Rose-dale or Silver-dale. In this and othermatters the Burgdalers dealt with them as with children who must havetheir way; for they deemed that their guests had much time to makeup; 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 cheerfulcountenance. 

As for Dallach and the three Silver-dale men of the kindred, theywent gladly whereas the Burgdale men would have them; and half ascore 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 Faceclad in glorious raiment, and therewith were Dallach and the men ofSilver-dale, washen and docked of their long hair, after the fashionof warriors who bear the helm; and they were clad in gay attire, withbattle-swords girt to their sides and gold rings on their arms. Somewhat stern and sad-eyed were those Silver-dalers yet, though theylooked on those about them kindly and courteously when they met theireyes; and Face-of-god yearned towards them when he called to mind thebeauty and wisdom and loving-kindness of the Sun-beam. They were, asaforesaid, strong men and tall, and one of them taller than anyamidst that house of tall men. Their names were Wolf-stone, thetallest, and God-swain, and Spear-fist; and God-swain the youngestwas of thirty winters, and Wolf-stone of forty. They came into theHall in such wise, that when they were washed and attired, and allmen were assembled in the Hall, and the Alderman and the chieftainssitting 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 helooked but a stripling beside that huge man. 

And when the men in the Hall beheld such goodly warriors, andremembered their grief late past, they all stood up and shouted forjoy of them. But Face-of-god passed up the Hall with them, and stoodbefore the dais and said:

'O Alderman of the Dale and Chief of the House of the Face, here Ibring 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 ourfriends, and stand beside us in the day of battle. Therefore I say, take these guests and me together, or put us all to the doortogether; and if thou wilt take them, then show them to such placesas thou deemest meet. '

Then stood up the Alderman and said:

'Men of Silver-dale and Rose-dale, I bid you welcome! Be ye ourfriends, and abide here with us as long as seemeth good to you, andshare in all that is ours. Son Face-of-god, show these warriors toseats on the dais beside thee, and cherish them as well as thouknowest how. '

Then Face-of-god brought them up on to the dais and sat down on theright hand of his father, with Dallach on his right hand, and thenWolf-stone out from him; then sat Stone-face, that there might be aman of the Dale to talk with them and serve them; and on his righthand first Spear-fist and then God-swain. And when they were all satdown, and the meat was on the board, Iron-face turned to his sonFace-of-god and took his hand, and said in a loud voice, so that manymight hear him:

'Son Face-of-god, son Gold-mane, thou bearest with thee both ill luckand good. Erewhile, when thou wanderedst out into the Wild-wood, seeking thou knewest not what from out of the Land of Dreams, thoudidst but bring aback to us grief and shame; but now that thou hastgone forth with the neighbours seeking thy foemen, thou hast comeaback to us with thine hands full of honour and joy for us, and wethank 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 theGuests: and all men were exceeding joyous thereat, when they calledto mind his wrath at the Gate-thing, and they shouted for gladness asthey drank that health, and the feast became exceeding merry in theHouse of the Face; and as to the war to come, it seemed to them as ifit 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-faceas to what were best to be done, and they sat on the dais in the Hallto talk it over. 

Short was the time that had worn since that day in Shadowy Vale, forit was but eight days since then; yet so many things had befallen inthat time, and, to speak shortly, the outlook for the Burgdalers hadchanged so much, that the time seemed long to all the three, andespecially to Face-of-god. 

It was yet twenty days till the Great Folk-mote should beholden, andto Hall-face the time seemed long enough to do somewhat, and hedeemed it were good to gather force and fall on the Dusky Men inRose-dale, since now they had gotten men who could lead them thenighest way and by the safest passes, and who knew all the ways ofthe foemen. But to Stone-face this rede seemed not so good; for theywould have to go and come back, and fight and conquer, in less timethan twenty days, or be belated of the Folk-mote, and meanwhile muchmight happen. 

'For, ' said Stone-face, 'we may deem the fighting-men of Rose-dale tobe little less than one thousand, and however we fall on them, evenif it be unawares at first, they shall fight stubbornly; so that wemay not send against them many less than they be, and that shallstrip Burgdale of its fighting-men, so that whatever befalls, we thatbe left shall have to bide at home. '

Now was Face-of-god of the same mind as Stone-face; and he saidmoreover: 'When we go to Rose-dale we must abide there a whileunless 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 inSilver-dale, and they shall join themselves to those of Rose-dale whohave fled before you, and between them they shall destroy the unhappypeople therein; for ye cannot take them all away with you: and thatshall they do all the more now, when they look to have new thralls inBurgdale, both men and women. And this we may not suffer, but mustabide till we have met all our foemen and have overcome them, so thatthe poor folk there shall be safe from them till they have learnedhow 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 andWoodlanders, and appoint a day for the Muster and Weapon-show of allour Folk, and that day to be the day before the Spring Market, thatis to say, four days before the Great Folk-mote, and meantime that wekeep sure watch about the border of the wood, and now and again scourthe wood, so as to clear the Dale of their wandering bands. '

'Yea, ' said Hall-face; 'and I pray thee, brother, let me have anhundred of men and thy Dallach, and let us go somewhat deep into thewood towards Rose-dale, and see what we may come across; peradventureit might be something better than hart or wild-swine. '

Said Face-of-god: 'I see no harm therein, if Dallach goeth with theefreely; for I will have no force put on him or any other of theRunaways. Yet meseemeth it were not ill for thee to find the road toRose-dale; for I have it in my mind to send a company thither to givethose Rose-dale man-quellers somewhat to do at home when we fall uponSilver-dale. Therefore go find Dallach, and get thy men together atonce; for the sooner thou art gone on thy way the better. But this Ibid thee, go no further than three days out, that ye may be back homebetimes. '

At this word Hall-face's eyes gleamed with joy, and he went out fromthe 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 himcall it Thicket-clearer, and he would not leave it any moment of theday or night, but would lay it under his pillow at night as a childdoes with a new toy; and now he was leaning against a buttress anddrawing the said sword half out of the scabbard and poring over itsblade, which was indeed fair enough, being wrought with dark greywaving 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'swork which thou lovest so, a journey which shall rejoice it. '

'Yea, ' said Dallach, 'I suppose that thou wouldest fare on thybrother's footsteps, and deemest that I am the man to lead thee onthe road, and even farther than he went; and though it might bethought by some that I have seen enough of Rose-dale and the partsthereabout for one while, yet will I go with thee; for now am I a managain, body and soul. '

And therewith he drew Thicket-clearer right out of his sheath andwaved him in the air. And Hall-face was glad of him and said he waswell 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 withDallach and an hundred and two score men. 

But as for Face-of-god, he fared up and down the Dale following theWar-arrow, and went into all houses, and talked with the folk, bothyoung and old, men and women, and told them closely all that hadbetid and all that was like to betide; and he was well pleased withthat which he saw and heard; for all took his words well, and werenought afeard or dismayed by the tidings; and he saw that they wouldnot hang aback. Meantime the days wore, and Hall-face came not backtill 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 himDallach 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 thirdday, and thereby came on five carles of the Runaways--men who hadmissed 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 hadtold the others: so now they were hanging about the Burg of theRunaways hoping somewhat that he might come again; and they met theBurgdalers full of joy, and brought them trouts that they had caughtin 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 bynight and cloud they came on a campment of the Dusky Men, who wereleading home these seven poor wretches, runaways whom they hadcaught, that they might slay them most evilly in Rose-stead. SoHall-face fell on the Dusky Men, and delivered their captives, butslew not all the foe, and they that fled brought pursuers on them whocame up with them the next day, so near was Rose-dale, though theymade all diligence homeward. The Burgdalers must needs turn andfight with those pursuers, and at last they drave them aback so thatthey might go on their ways home. They let not the grass growbeneath their feet thereafter, till they were assured by meeting aband of the Woodlanders, who had gone forth to help them, and withwhom they rested a little. But neither so were they quite done withthe foemen, who came upon them next day a very many: these howeverthey and the Woodlanders, who were all fresh and unwounded and veryvaliant, speedily put to the worse; and so they came on to Burgstead, leaving those of them who were sorest hurt to be tended by theWoodlanders at Carlstead, who, as might be looked for, deal with themvery lovingly. 

It was in the first fight that they suffered that loss of slain andwounded; and therein the newly delivered thralls fought valiantlyagainst 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, solittle 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 doneunwisely to let him go that journey; for the slaying of a few DuskyMen was but a light gain to set against the loss of so manyBurgdalers; yet was he glad of the deliverance of those Runaways, anddeemed it a gain indeed. But henceforth would he hold all still tillhe should have tidings of Folk-might; so nought was done thereaftersave the warding of the Dale, from the country of the Shepherds tothe Waste above the Eastern passes. 

But Face-of-god himself went up amongst the Shepherds, and abode witha goodman hight Hound-under-Greenbury, who gathered to him the folkfrom the country-side, and they went up on to Greenbury, and sat onthe green grass while he spoke with them and told them, as he hadtold the others, what had been done and what should be done. Andthey heard him gladly, and he deemed that there would be no blenchingin them, for they were all in one tale to live and die with theirfriends of Burgdale, and they said that they would have no other wordsave that to bear to the Great Folk-mote. 

So he went away well-pleased, and he fared on thence to theWoodlanders, and guested at the house of a valiant man hightWargrove, who on the morrow morn called the folk together to a greenlawn of the Wild-wood, so that there was scarce a soul of them thatwas not there. Then he laid the whole matter before them; and if theDalesmen had been merry and ready, and the Shepherds stout-heartedand friendly, yet were the Wood-landers more eager still, so thatevery hour seemed long to them till they stood in their war-gear; andthey told him that now at last was the hour drawing nigh which theyhad dreamed of, but had scarce dared to hope for, when the lost wayshould be found, and the crooked made straight, and that which hadbeen broken should be mended; that their meat and drink, and sleepingand waking, and all that they did were now become to them but themeans of living till the day was come whereon the two remnants of thechildren of the Wolf should meet and become one Folk to live or dietogether. 

Then went Face-of-god back to Burgstead again, and as he stood anighthe Thing-stead once more, and looked down on the Dale as he hadbeheld it last autumn, he bethought him that with all that had beendone and all that had been promised, the earth was clearing of hertrouble, and that now there was nought betwixt him and the happy daysof life which the Dale should give to the dwellers therein, save thegathering hosts of the battle-field and the day when the last wordshould be spoken and the first stroke smitten. So he went down on tothe Portway well content. 

Thereafter till the day of the Weapon-show there is nought to tellof, save that Dallach and the other wounded men began to grow wholeagain; 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 THEIRNEIGHBOURS

Now on the day appointed for the Weapon-show came the Folk flock-mealto the great and wide meadow that was cleft by Wildlake as it ran tojoin the Weltering Water. Early in the morning, even before sunrise, had the wains full of women and children begun to come thither. Alsothere came little horses and asses from the Shepherd country with oneor two or three damsels or children sitting on each, and by wain-sideor by beast strode the men of the house, merry and fair in their war-gear. The Woodlanders, moreover, man and woman, elder and swain andyoung damsel, streamed out of the wood from Carlstead, eager to makethe day begin before the sunrise, and end before his setting. 

Then all men fell to pitching of tents and tilting over of wains; forthe April sun was hot in the Dale, and when he arose the meads weregay with more than the spring flowers; for the tents and the tiltswere stained and broidered with many colours, and there was none whohad not furbished up his war-gear so that all shone and glittered. And many wore gay surcoats over their armour, and the women were cladin all their bravery, and the Houses mostly of a suit; for one boreblue and another corn-colour, and another green, and another brazil, and so forth, and all gleaming and glowing with broidery of gold andbright hues. But the women of the Shepherds were all clad in white, embroidered with green boughs and red blossoms, and the Woodlandwomen wore dark red kirtles. Moreover, the women had set garlands offlowers on their heads and the helms of the men, and for the mostpart they were slim of body and tall and light-limbed, and as daintyto look upon as the willow-boughs that waved on the brook-side. 

Thither had the goodmen who were guesting the Runaways brought theirguests, even now much bettered by their new soft days; and much thepoor folk marvelled at all this joyance, and they scarce knew wherethey were; but to some it brought back to their minds days of joyancebefore the thralldom and all that they had lost, so that their heartswere heavy a while, till they saw the warriors of the kindredsstreaming into the mead and bethought them why they carried steel. 

Now by then the sun was fully up there was a great throng on thePortway, and this was the folk of the Burg on their way to theWeapon-mead. The men-at-arms were in the midst of the throng, and atthe head of them was the War-leader, with the banner of the Facebefore him, wherein was done the image of the God with the ray-ringedhead. But at the rearward of the warriors went the Alderman and theBurg-wardens, before whom was borne the banner of the Burg picturedwith the Gate and its Towers; but in the midst betwixt those two wasthe banner of the Steer, a white beast on a green field. 

So when the Dale-wardens who were down in the meadow heard the musicand beheld who were coming, they bade the companies of the Dale andthe Shepherds and the Woodlanders who were down there to pitch theirbanners in a half circle about the ingle of the meadow which was madeby the streams of Wildlake and the Weltering Water, and gather tothem to be ordered there under their leaders of scores and half-hundreds and hundreds; and even so they did. But the banners of theDale without the Burg were the Bridge, and the Bull, and the Vine, and the Sickle. And the Shepherds had three banners, to witGreenbury, and the Fleece, and the Thorn. 

As for the Woodlanders, they said that they were abiding their greatbanner, but it should come in good time; 'and meantime, ' said they, 'here are the war-tokens that we shall fight under; for they are goodenough banners for us poor men, the remnant of the valiant of timepast. ' Therewith they showed two great spears, and athwart the onewas tied an arrow, its point dipped in blood, its feathers singedwith fire; and they said, 'This is the banner of the War-shaft. '

On the other spear there was nought; but the head thereof was greatand long, and they had so burnished the steel that the sun smote outa ray of light from it, so that it might be seen from afar. And theysaid: 'This is the Banner of the Spear! Down yonder where theravens are gathering ye shall see a banner flying over us. Thereshall fall many a mother's son. '

Smiled the Dale-wardens, and said that these were good banners tofight under; and those that stood nearby shouted for the valiancy ofthe Woodland Carles. 

Now the Dale-wardens went to the entrance from the Portway to themeadow, and there met the Men of the Burg, and two of them went oneon either side of the War-leader to show him to his seat, and theothers abode till the Alderman and Burg-wardens came up, and thenjoined themselves to them, and the horns blew up both in the meadowand on the road, and the new-comers went their ways to theirappointed places amidst the shouts of the Dalesmen; and the women andchildren and old men from the Burg followed after, till all the meadwas covered with bright raiment and glittering gear, save within thering of men at the further end. 

So came the War-leader to his seat of green turf raised in the ingleaforesaid; and he stood beside it till the Alderman and Wardens hadtaken their places on a seat behind him raised higher than his; belowhim 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 shieldwhereon to write. 

On the left side of Face-of-god stood the men of the Face allglittering in their arms, and amongst them were Wolf-stone and histwo fellows, but Dallach was not yet whole of his hurts. On hisright were the folk of the House of the Steer: the leader of thatHouse was an old white-bearded man, grandfather of the Bride, for herfather was dead; and who but the Bride herself stood beside him inher glorious war-gear, looking as if she were new come from the Cityof the Gods, thought most men; but those who beheld her closelydeemed 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 deedwas, and how meet she was for it; and some of them were for doing onwar-gear and faring to battle with the carles; and of these some weresober and solemn, as was well seen afterwards, and some spakelightly: some also fell to boasting of how they could run and climband swim and shoot in the bow, and fell to baring of their arms toshow how strong they were: and indeed they were no weaklings, thoughtheir arms were fair. 

There then stood the ring of men, each company under its banner; andbeyond 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 onhis head and his naked sword across his knees, while the horns blewup loudly, and when they had done, the elder of the Dale-wardenscried out for silence. Then again arose Face-of-god and said:

'Men of the Dale, and ye friends of the Shepherds, and ye, O valiantWoodlanders; we are not assembled here to take counsel, for in threedays' time shall the Great Folk-mote be holden, whereat shall becounsel enough. But since I have been appointed your Chief and War-leader, till such time as the Folk-mote shall either yeasay or naysaymy leadership, I have sent for you that we may look each other in theface and number our host and behold our weapons, and see if we bemeet for battle and for the dealing with a great host of foemen. Fornow no longer can it be said that we are going to war, but ratherthat war is on our borders, and we are blended with it; as many havelearned 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 thatthe tale of you may be taken. But first let every hundred-leader andhalf-hundred-leader and score-leader make sure that he hath his talearight, and give his word to the captain of his banner that he inturn may give it out to the Scrivener with his name and the House andCompany that he leadeth. '

So he spake and sat him adown; and the horns blew again in token thatthe companies should go past; and the first that came was Hall-wardof the House of the Steer, and the first of those that went after himwas the Bride, going as if she were his son. 

So he cried out his name, and the name of his House, and said, 'Anhundred and a half, ' and passed forth, his men following him in mostgoodly array. Each man was girt with a good sword and bore a longheavy spear over his shoulder, save a score who bare bows; and no manlacked a helm, a shield, and a coat of fence. 

Then came a goodly man of thirty winters, and stayed before theScrivener 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 thoseof the Steer, save that some had axes hanging to their girdlesinstead of swords; and most bore casting-spears instead of the longspears, and half a score were bowmen. 

Then came Fox of Upton leading the men of the Bull of Middale, anhundred and a half lacking two; very great and tall were his men, andthey 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 theVine, an hundred and a half and five men thereto; two score of thembare bow in hand and were girt with sword; the rest bore their swordsnaked in their right hands, and their shields (which were but smallbucklers) hanging at their backs, and in the left hand each bore twocasting-spears. With these went two doughty women-at-arms among thebowmen, tall and well-knit, already growing brown with the springsun, for their work lay among the stocks of the vines on thesouthward-looking bents. 

Next came a tall young man, yellow-haired, with a thin red beard, andgave himself out for Red-beard of the Knolls; he bore his father'sname, as the custom of their house was, but the old man, who had longbeen 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 Scrivenerwrite the tale of the Men of the Sickle at an hundred and a half, andhis folk fared past the War-leader joyously, being one half of thembowmen; and fell shooters they were; the other half were girt withswords, and bore withal long ashen staves armed with great bladescurved inwards, which weapon they called heft-sax. 

All these bands, as the name and the tale of them was declared weregreeted with loud shouts from their fellows and the bystanders; butnow arose a greater shout still, as Stone-face, clad in goodlyglittering array, came forth and said:

'I am Stone-face of the House of the Face, and I bring with me twohundreds 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, andafter him came the tall Hall-face and his men, a gallant sight tosee: two score bowmen girt with swords, and the others with nakedswords waving aloft, and each bearing two casting-spears in his lefthand. 

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 hesaid:

'Scrivener, write down that Hound-under-Greenbury, from amongst thedwellers in the hills where the sheep feed, leadeth the men who gounder the banner of Greenbury, to the tale of an hundred and fourscore. '

Therewith he passed on, and his men followed, stout, stark, andmerry-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 flaxon the distaff, broad-faced and short-nosed, low of stature, but verystrong-built, who cried out in a loud, cheerful voice:

'I am Strongitharm of the Shepherds, and these valiant men are of theFleece and the Thorn blended together, for so they would have it; andtheir tale is one hundred and two score and ten. '

Then the men of those kindreds went past merry and shouting, and theywere clad and weaponed like to them of Greenbury, but had with them ascore of bowmen. And all these Shepherd-folk wore over theirhauberks white woollen surcoats broidered with green and red. 

Now again uprose the cry, and there stood before the War-leader avery tall man of fifty winters, dark-faced and grey-eyed, and hespake slowly and somewhat softly, and said:

'War-leader, this is Red-wolf of the Woodlanders leading the men whogo under the sign of the War-shaft, to the number of an hundred andtwo. '

Then he passed on, and his men after him, tall, lean, and silentamidst the shouting. All these men bare bows, for they were keenhunters; each had at his girdle a little axe and a wood-knife, andsome had long swords withal. They wore, everyone of the carles, short green surcoats over their coats of fence; but amongst them werethree women who bore like weapons to the men, but were clad in redkirtles under their hauberks, which were of good ring-mail gleamingover them from throat to knee. 

Last came another tall man, but young, of twenty-five winters, andspake:

'Scrivener, I am Bears-bane of the Woodlanders, and these that comeafter me wend under the sign of the Spear, and they are of the taleof one hundred and seven. '

And he passed by at once, and his men followed him, clad and weaponedno otherwise than they of the War-shaft, and with them were twowomen. 

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 oldmen, some spake of past weapon-shows which they had seen in theiryouth, and they set them beside this one, and praised and blamed. Soit went on a little while till the horns blew again, and once morethere was silence. Then arose Face-of-god and said:

'Men of Burgdale, and ye Shepherd-folk, and ye of the Woodland, nowshall ye wot how many weaponed men we may bring together for thiswar. Scrivener, arise and give forth the tale of the companies, asthey have been told unto you. '

Then the Scrivener stood up on the turf-bench beside Face-of-god, andspake in a loud voice, reading from his scroll:

'Of the Men of Burgdale there have passed by me nine hundreds andsix; of the Shepherds three hundreds and eight and ten; and of theWoodlanders two hundreds and nine; so that all told our men arefourteen hundreds and thirty and three. '

Now in those days men reckoned by long hundreds, so that the wholetale of the host was one thousand, five hundred, and four score andone, telling the tale in short hundreds. 

When the tale had been given forth and heard, men shouted again, andthey rejoiced that they were so many. For it exceeded the reckoningwhich the Alderman had given out at the Gate-thing. But Face-of-godsaid:

'Neighbours, we have held our Weapon-show; but now hold you ready, each man, for the Hosting toward very battle; for belike within sevendays shall the leaders of hundreds and twenties summon you to beready in arms to take whatso fortune may befall. Now is sundered theWeapon-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 theWardens, and they mingled with the good folk of the Dale and theShepherds and the Woodlanders, and merry was their converse there. It yet lacked an hour of noon; so presently they fell to and feastedin the green meadow, drinking from wain to wain and from tent totent; and thereafter they played and sported in the meads, shootingat the butts and wrestling, and trying other masteries. Then theyfell to dancing one and all, and so at last to supper on the greengrass in great merriment. Nor might you have known from thedemeanour of any that any threat of evil overhung the Dale. Nay, soglad were they, and so friendly, that you might rather have deemedthat this was the land whereof tales tell, wherein people die not, but live for ever, without growing any older than when they firstcome thither, unless they be born into the land itself, and then theygrow into fair manhood, and so abide. In sooth, both the land andthe folk were fair enough to be that land and the folk thereof. 

But a little after sunset they sundered, and some fared home; butmany of them abode in the tents and tilted wains, because the morrowwas the first day of the Spring Market: and already were some of theWestland chapmen come; yea, two of them were with the bystanders inthe meadow; and more were looked for ere the night was far spent. 

CHAPTER XXXII. THE MEN OF SHADOWY VALE COME TO THE SPRING MARKET ATBURGSTEAD

On the morrow betimes in the morning the Westland chapmen, who werenow all come, went out from the House of the Face, where they wereever wont to be lodged, and set up their booths adown the streetbetwixt gate and bridge. Gay was the show; for the booths weretilted over with painted cloths, and the merchants themselves wereclad in long gowns of fine cloth; scarlet, and blue, and white, andgreen, and black, with broidered welts of gold and silver; and theirknaves were gaily attired in short coats of divers hues, with silverrings about their arms, and short swords girt to their sides. Peoplebegan to gather about these chapmen at once when they fell to openingtheir bales and their packs, and unloading their wains. There hadthey iron, both in pigs and forged scrap and nails; steel they had, and silver, both in ingots and vessel; pearls from over sea; cinnabarand other colours for staining, such as were not in the mountains:madder from the marshes, and purple of the sea, and scarlet grainfrom the holm-oaks by its edge, and woad from the deep clayey fieldsof the plain; silken thread also from the outer ocean, and rare websof 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 thatthey took there; and for weapons, save a few silver-gilt toys, theyhad no market. 

So presently they fell to chaffer; for the carles brought them littlebags of the river-borne gold, so that the weights and scales were atwork; others had with them scrolls and tallies to tell the number ofthe beasts which they had to sell, and the chapmen gave them warestherefor without beholding the beasts; for they wotted that theDalesmen lied not in chaffer. While the day was yet young withalcame the Dalesmen from the mid and nether Dale with their wares andset up their booths; and they had with them flasks and kegs of thewine which they had to sell; and bales of the good winter-wovencloth, some grey, some dyed, and pieces of fine linen; and blades ofswords, and knives, and axes of such fashion as the Westland menused; and golden cups and chains, and fair rings set with mountain-blue stones, and copper bowls, and vessels gilt and parcel-gilt, andmountain-blue for staining. There were men of the Shepherds alsowith such fleeces as they could spare from the daily chaffer with theneighbours. And of the Woodlanders were four carles and a woman withpeltries and dressed deer-skins, and a few pieces of well-carvenwood-work for bedsteads and chairs and such like. 

Soon was the Burg thronged with folk in all its open places, and allwere eager and merry, and it could not have been told from theirdemeanour and countenance that the shadow of a grievous trouble hungover them. True it was that every man of the Dale and the neighbourswas girt with his sword, or bore spear or axe or other weapon in hishand, and that most had their bucklers at their backs and their helmson their heads; but this was ever their custom at all meetings ofmen, not because they dreaded war or were fain of strife, but intoken that they were free men, from whom none should take the weaponswithout 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 mightbe, for they had good pennyworths of them; yet they dealt with themwithout using measureless lying, as behoved folk dealing with simpleand proud people; and many was the tale they told of the tidings ofthe Cities and the Plain. 

There amongst the throng was the Bride in her maiden's attire, butgirt with the sword, going from booth to booth with her guests of theRunaways, and doing those poor people what pleasure she might, andgiving them gifts from the goods there, such as they set their heartson. And the more part of the Runaways were about among the people ofthe Fair; but Dallach, being still weak, sat on a bench by the doorof the House of the Face looking on well-pleased at all the stir offolk. 

Hall-face was gone on the woodland ward; while Face-of-god went amongthe folk in his most glorious attire; but he soon betook him to theplace of meeting without the Gate, where Stone-face and some of theelders were sitting along with the Alderman, beside whom sat the headman of the merchants, clad in a gown of fine scarlet embroidered withthe best work of the Dale, with a golden chaplet on his head, and agood sword, golden-hilted, by his side, all which the Alderman hadgiven to it him that morning. These chiefs were talking togetherconcerning the tidings of the Plain, and many a tale the guest toldto the Dalesmen, some true, some false. For there had been battlesdown there, and the fall of kings, and destruction of people, as oftbefalleth in the guileful Cities. He told them also, in answer totheir story of the Dusky Men, of how men even such-like, but ridingon horses, or drawn in wains, an host not to be numbered, haderewhile overthrown the hosts of the Cities of the Plain, and hadwrought evils scarce to be told of; and how they had piled up theskulls of slaughtered folk into great hills beside the city-gates, sothat the sun might no longer shine into the streets; and how becauseof 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, valiantscourers of the Wild-wood, that the worst that can befall you will beto die under shield, and that ye shall suffer no torment of thethrall. May the undying Gods bless the threshold of this Gate, andoft may I come hither to taste of your kindness! May your race, theuncorrupt, increase and multiply, till your valiant men and cleanmaidens make the bitter sweet and purify the earth!'

He spake smooth-tongued and smiling, handling the while the folds ofhis fine scarlet gown, and belike he meant a full half of what hesaid; for he was a man very eloquent of speech, and had spoken withkings, uncowed and pleased with his speaking; and for that cause andhis riches had he been made chief of the chapmen. As he spake theheart of Face-of-god swelled within him, and his cheek flushed; butIron-face sat up straight and proud, and a light smile played abouthis face, as he said gravely:

'Friend of the Westland, I thank thee for the blessing and the kindword. Such as we are, we are; nor do I deem that the very Gods shallchange us. And if they will be our friends, it is well; for wedesire nought of them save their friendship; and if they will be ourfoes, that also shall we bear; nor will we curse them for doing thatwhich their lives bid them to do. What sayest thou, Face-of-god, myson?'

'Yea, father, ' said Face-of-god, 'I say that the very Gods, thoughthey 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-faceand Face-of-god, and wondered at their pride of heart, marvellingwhat they would say to the great men of the Cities if they shouldmeet them. 

But as they sat a-talking, there came two men running to them fromthe Portway, their weapons all clattering upon them, and they heardwithal 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 wasat hand, after all he had heard of the Dalesmen's dealings with theDusky Men. And all battle was loathsome to him, nor for all the gainof his chaffer had he come into the Dale, had he known that war waslooked 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 cameforth to see what was toward; for they also had heard the voice ofthe horn. 

Then one of those messengers came up breathless, and stood before thechiefs, and said:

'New tidings, Alderman; here be weaponed strangers come into theDale. '

The Alderman smiled on him and said: 'Yea, son, and are they a greathost of men?'

'Nay, ' said the man, 'not above a score as I deem, and there is awoman with them. '

'Then shall we abide them here, ' said the Alderman, 'and thoumightest have saved thy breath, and suffered them to bring tidings ofthemselves; since they may scarce bring us war. For no man desirethcertain and present death; and that is all that such a band may winat our hands in battle to-day; and all who come in peace are welcometo us. What like are they to behold?'

Said the man: 'They are tall men gloriously attired, so that theyseem like kinsmen of the Gods; and they bear flowering boughs intheir hands. '

The Alderman laughed, and said: 'If they be Gods they are welcomeindeed; and they shall grow the wiser for their coming; for theyshall learn how guest-fain the Burgdale men may be. But if, as Ideem, they be like unto us, and but the children of the Gods, thenare they as welcome, and it may be more so, and our greeting to themshall be as their greeting to us would be. '

Even as he spake the horn was winded nearer yet, and more loudly, andfolk came pouring out of the Gate to learn the tidings. Presentlythe strangers came from off the Portway into the space before theGate; and their leader was a tall and goodly man of some thirtywinters, in glorious array, helm on head and sword by side, hissurcoat green and flowery like the spring meads. In his right handhe held a branch of the blossomed black-thorn (for some was yet inblossom), and his left had hold of the hand of an exceeding fairwoman who went beside him: behind him was a score of weaponed men ingoodly attire, some bearing bows, some long spears, but each bearinga flowering bough in hand. 

The tall man stopped in the midst of the space, and the Alderman andthey with him stirred not; though, as for Face-of-god, it was to himas if summer had come suddenly into the midst of winter, and for thevery 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 ofthe 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 withthine own name, or shall I call thee nought save Guest? Welcome artthou, by whatsoever name thou wilt be called. Here may'st thou andthy folk abide as long as ye will. '

Said the new-comer: 'Thanks have thou for thy greeting and for thybidding! 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, OAlderman of the Dalesmen, that I am not sackless toward thee andthine. My name is Folk-might of the Children of the Wolf, and thiswoman is the Sun-beam, my sister, and these behind me are of mykindred, and are well beloved and trusty. We are no evil men orwrong-doers; yet have we been driven into sore straits, wherein menmust needs at whiles do deeds that make their friends few and theirfoes many. So it may be that I am thy foeman. Yet, if thou doubtestof me that I shall be a baneful guest, thou shalt have our weapons ofus, and then mayest thou do thy will upon us without dread; and herefirst of all is my sword!'

Therewith he cast down the flowering branch he was bearing, andpulled his sword from out his sheath, and took it by the point, andheld 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 andthose no weaklings: and if so be that thy guilt against us is sogreat 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, whichwill be holden in three days' wearing; so let us forbear this mattertill 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, fairestof 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 andkissed him; and he stood before the Sun-beam and took her hand, andthe world waxed a wonder to him as he kissed her cheeks; and in nowise did she change countenance, save that her eyes softened, and shegazed at him full kindly from the happiness of her soul. 

Then Face-of-god said: 'Welcome, Guests, who erewhile guested me sowell: now beginneth the day of your well-doing to the men ofBurgdale; 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 tothe others, and greeted them one by one: of them was Wood-father andhis three sons, and Bow-may; and they rejoiced exceedingly to seehim, and Bow-may said:

'Now it gladdens my heart to look upon thee alive and thriving, andto remember that day last winter when I met thee on the snow, andturned thee back from the perilous path to thy pleasure, which theDusky Men were besetting, of whom thou knewest nought. Yea, it wasmerry that tide; but this is better. Nay, friend, ' she said, 'itavaileth 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 agreat chieftain, and she is no less; and this is a meeting ofchieftains, and the folk are looking on and expecting demeanour ofthem as of the Gods; and she is not to be dealt with as if she werethe daughter of some little goodman with whom one hath made tryst inthe meadows. There! hearken to me for a while; at least till I tellthee that thou seemest to me to hold thine head higher than when lastI saw thee; though that is no long time either. Hast thou been inbattle again since that day?'

'Nay, ' he said, 'I have stricken no stroke since I slew two felonswithin the same hour that we parted. And thou, sister, what hastthou 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 thouart deft with thy tongue. '

She said: 'Weary on battles! it is nought save this: twelve daysagone needs must every fighting-man of the Wolf, carle or of queen, wend away from Shadowy Vale, while those unmeet for battle we hidaway in the caves at the nether end of the Dale: but Sun-beam wouldnot endure that night, and fared with us, though she handled noweapon. All this we had to do because we had learned that a greatcompany of the Dusky Men were over-nigh to our Dale, and needs mustwe fall upon them, lest they should learn too much, and spread thestory. Well, so wise was Folk-might that we came on them unawares bynight and cloud at the edge of the Pine-wood, and but one of our menwas slain, and of them not one escaped; and when the fight was overwe counted four score and ten of their arm-rings. '

He said: 'Did that or aught else come of our meeting with them thatmorning?'

'Nay, ' she said, 'nought came of it: those we slew were but astraying band. Nay, the four score and ten slain in the Pine-woodknew not of Shadowy Vale belike, and had no intent for it: they werebut scouring the wood seeking their warriors that had gone out fromSilver-dale and came not aback. '

'Thou art wise in war, Bow-may, ' said Face-of-god, and he smiledwithal. 

Bow-may reddened and said: 'Friend Gold-mane, dost thou perchancedeem that there is aught ill in my warring? And the Sun-beam, shenaysayeth the bearing of weapons; though I deem that she hath littlefear of them when they come her way. '

Said Face-of-god: 'Nay, I deem no ill of it, but much good. For Isuppose 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 atthat word, and she answered: 'Yea, thou hast it; for I have bothseen their thralls and been in the Dale of thralldom; and how thencan I do less than I do? But for thee, I perceive that thou hastbeen nigh unto our foes and hast fallen in with their thralls; andthat is well; for whatso tales we had told thee thereof it is likethou wouldst not have trowed in, as now thou must do, since thouthyself hast seen these poor folk. But now I will tell thee, Gold-mane, that my soul is sick of these comings and goings for theslaughter 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 laughand jest, yet doth the wearing of the days wear me. '

He looked kindly on her and said: 'I am War-leader of this Folk, andtrust me that the waiting-tide shall not be long; wherefore now, sister, be merry to-day, for that is but meet and right; and castaside thy care, for presently shalt thou behold many new friends. But now meseemeth overlong have ye been standing before our Gate, andit is time that ye should see the inside of our Burg and the insideof our House. '

Indeed by this time so many men had come out of the street that theplace 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-beamand 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 withthe Alderman, and men gave way to them, and he led those new-comersclose up to the gate-seats of the Elders, and as he clove the presssmiling and bright-eyed and happy, all gazed on him; but the Sun-beam, who was sitting between Iron-face and the Westland Chapman, andwho heretofore had been agaze with eyes beholding little, past whoseears the words went unheard, and whose mind wandered into thoughts ofthings unfashioned yet, when she beheld him close to her again, then, taken unawares, her eyes caressed him, and she turned as red as arose, as she felt all the sweetness of desire go forth from her tomeet him. So that, he perceiving it, his voice was the clearer andsweeter for the inward joy he felt, as he said:

'Alderman, meseemeth it is now time that we bring our Guests into theHouse of our Fathers; for since they are in warlike array, and we areno longer living in peace, and I am now War-leader of the Dale, Ideem 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 thytreasury, that thou may'st find therein somewhat which it maypleasure us to give to our Guests. '

Said Iron-face: 'Thou sayest well, son, and since the day is nowworn past noon, and these folk are but just come from the Waste, therefore such as we have of meat and drink abideth them. And surelythere 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 ourfriends that which we ourselves use and love, which would be of allthings pleasant to us, if we gave them such goods, they would be wornand worsened by our use of them. For this reason, therefore, do wekeep fair things which we use not, so that we may give them to ourfriends. 

'Now, Guests, both of the Waste and the Westland, since here is noGate-thing or meeting of the Dale-wardens, and we sit here but forour 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; andFolk-might went on the right hand of Iron-face, and beside him wentthe Chapman, who looked on him with a half-smile, as though he knewsomewhat 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, leadingin the rest of the New-comers, who yet held the flowery branches intheir hands. 

Now so much had Face-of-god told the Dalesmen, that they deemed theyall knew these men for their battle-fellows of whom they had heardtell; and this the more as the men were so goodly and manly ofaspect, especially Folk-might, so that they seemed as if they werenigh akin to the Gods. As for the Sun-beam, they knew not how topraise her beauty enough, but they said that they had never knownbefore how fair the Gods might be. So they raised a great shout ofwelcome as the men came through the Gate into the Burg, and all menturned their backs on the booths, so eager were they to beholdclosely these new friends. 

But as the Guests went from the Gate to the House of the Face, goingvery slowly because of the press, there in the front of the throngstood the Bride with the women of the Runaways, whom she had causedto be clad very fairly; and she was fain to do them a pleasure bybringing them to sight of these new-comers, of whom she had not heardwho they were, though she had heard the cry that strangers were athand. So there she stood smiling a little with the pleasure ofshowing 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 sheknew 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 anddainty fashion of her skin, then was she astonied, and the worldseemed strange to her, and till they were gone by, and for a whileafterwards, she knew not where she was nor what she did, though itseemed to her as if she still saw the face of that fair woman as in apicture. 

But the Sun-beam had noted her at first, even amongst the fair womenof Burgstead, and she so steady and bright beside the wanderingtimorous eyes and lowering faces of the thralls. But suddenly, aseye met eye, she saw her face change; she saw her cheek whiten, hereyes stare, and her lips quiver, and she knew at once who it was; forshe had not seen her before as Folk-might had. Then the Sun-beamcast her eyes adown, lest her compassion might show in her face, andbe a fresh grief to her that had lost the wedding and the love; andso she passed on. 

As for Folk-might, he had seen her at once amongst all that folk ashe came into the street, and in sooth he was looking for her; andwhen he saw her face change, as the sight of the Sun-beam smote uponher heart, his own face burned with shame and anger, and he lookedback at her as he went toward the House. But she saw him not, nornoted him; and none deemed it strange that he looked long on theBride, the treasure of Burgstead. But for some while Folk-might wasfew-spoken and sharp-spoken amongst the chieftains; for he was slowto 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 hisHouse, spake unto the throng:

'Men of the Dale, and ye Outlanders who may be here, know that thisis a happy day; for hither have come to us Guests, men of the kindredof the Gods, and they are even those of whom Face-of-god my son hathtold 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 comeforth I look to you to cherish them in the best way ye know, and makemuch of them, as of those who may help us and who may by us beholpen. '

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 tohand, was set before them. He bade men also get ready high feast asgreat as might be against the evening; and they did his biddingstraightway. 

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 handof the Alderman, and the Sun-beam on his left hand. But Iron-facealso had beheld the Bride how her face changed, and he knew thecause, and was grieved and angry and ashamed thereof: also hebethought him how this stranger was sitting in the very place wherethe 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 talkcourteously and kindly both to Folk-might and

the Sun-beam, as behoved the Chief of the House and the Alderman ofthe Dale. Moreover, he was not a little moved by the goodliness andwisdom of the Sun-beam and the manliness of Folk-might, who was themost chieftain-like of men. 

But while they sat there Face-of-god went from man to man of theGuests, and made much of each, but especially of Wood-father and hissons and Bow-may, and they loved him, and praised him, and deemed himthe best of hall-mates. Nor might the Sun-beam altogether refrainher from looking lovingly on him, and it could be seen of her thatshe deemed he was doing well, and like a wise leader and chieftain. 

So wore away awhile, and men were fulfilled of meat and drink; sothen 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 theCities?'

Then most men cried out: 'Yea, yea!' and Iron-face said:

'Then shall ye go, nor be holden by me from your pleasure. And yekinsmen who are the most guest-fain and the wisest, go ye with ourfriends, and make all things easy and happy for them. But first ofall, Guests, I were well pleased if ye would take some small mattersout of our abundance; for it were well that ye see them ere ye standbefore the chapmen's booths, lest ye chaffer with them for what yehave already. '

They all praised his bounty and thanked him for his goodwill: so hearose to go to his treasury, and bade certain of his folk go alongwith him to bear in the gifts. But ere he had taken three steps downthe hall, Face-of-god prevented him and said:

'Kinsman, if thou hast anywhere a hauberk somewhat better than folkare wont to bear, such as thine own hand fashioneth, and a sword ofthe 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, whoshooteth so well in the bow that none may shoot closer, and very fewas close; and her shaft it was that delivered me when my skull wasamongst the axes of the Dusky Men: else had I not been here. '

Thereat Bow-may reddened and looked down, like a scholar who hathbeen over-praised for his learning and diligence; but the Aldermansmiled on her and said:

'I thank thee, son, that thou hast let me know what these our twofriends may be fain of: and as for this damsel-at-arms, it is alittle thing that thou askest for her, and we might have found hersomething more worthy of her goodliness; yet forsooth, since we areall 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 thosebearers of gifts, and was away for a space while they drank and mademerry: but presently back they came from the treasury bearing loadsof goodly things which were laid on one of the endlong boards. Thenbegan the gift-giving: and first he gave unto Folk-might six goldencups marvellously fashioned, the work of four generations of wrightsin the Dale, and he himself had wrought the last two thereof. ToSun-beam he gave a girdle of gold, fashioned with great mastery, whereon were images of the Gods and the Fathers, and warriors, andbeasts of the field and fowls of the air; and as he girt it about herloins, he said in a soft voice so that few heard:

'Sun-beam, thou fair woman, time has been when thou wert to us as theedge 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 hastgiven 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 Icannot 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 sogood a man. Hereafter belike we may talk more of this, but now Iwill but say, that whereas at first I needed but to win thy son'sgoodwill, so that our Folk might come to life and thriving again, nowit is come to this, that he holdeth my heart in his hand and may dowhat he will with it; therefore I pray thee withhold not thy loveeither from him or from me. '

He looked on her wondering, and said: 'Thou art such an one as mightmake the old man young, and the boy grow into manhood suddenly; andthy voice is as sweet as the voice of the song-birds singing in thedawn 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 gaveunto Bow-may a hauberk of ring-mail of his own fashioning, a suredefence and a wonderful work, and the collar thereof was done withgold and gems. 

But he said to her: 'Fair damsel-at-arms, faithful is thy face, andthe fashion of thee is goodly: now art thou become one of the bestof our friends, and this is little enough to give thee; yet would wefain ward thy body against the foeman; so grieve us not by gainsayingus. '

And Bow-may was exceeding glad, and scarce knew how to cease handlingthat marvel of ring-mail. 

Then to Wood-wise Iron-face gave a most goodly sword, the blade allmarked with dark lines like the stream of an eddying river, the hiltsof steel and gold marvellously wrought; and all the work of a smithwho had dwelt in the house of his father's father, and was a greatwarrior. 

Unto Wood-father he gave a very goodly helm parcel-gilded; and to hissons and the other folk fair gifts of weapons and jewels and girdlesand cups and other good things; so that their hearts were full ofjoy, and they all praised his open hand. 

Then some of the best and merriest of the kinsmen of the Face, andFace-of-god with them, brought the Guests out into the street andamong the booths. There Face-of-god beheld the Bride again; and shewas standing by the booth of a chapman and dealing with him for apiece of goodly silken cloth to be a gown for one of her guests, andshe was talking and smiling as she chaffered with him, as her wontwas; for she was ever very friendly of demeanour with all men. Buthe noted that she was yet exceeding pale, and he was right sorrythereof, for he loved her friendly; yet now had he no shame for allthat had befallen, when he bethought him of the Sun-beam and the loveshe had for him. And also he had a deeming that the Bride wouldbetter 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-facesat at the dais, and with him Folk-might and Stone-face and the Elderof the Dale-wardens, and Sun-beam withal; so he went soberly up tothe board, and sat himself down thereat beside Stone-face, overagainst Folk-might and his father, beside whom sat the Sun-beam; andFolk-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 backpresently, because I wotted that thou wouldst surely do so, knowingthat we have much to speak of. For, whatever these thy friends mayhave done, or whatsoever thou hast done with them to grieve us, allthat must be set aside at this present time, since the matter in handis to save the Dale and its folk. What sayest thou hereon? Since, young as thou mayst be, thou art our War-leader, and doubtless shaltso be after the Folk-mote hath been holden. '

Face-of-god answered not hastily: indeed, as he sat thinking for aminute or two, the fair spring day seemed to darken about them or toglare into the light of flames amidst the night-tide; and the joyousclamour without doors seemed to grow hoarse and fearful as the soundof wailing and shrieking. But he spake firmly and simply in a clearvoice, and said:

'There can be no two words concerning what we have to aim at; theseDusky Men we must slay everyone, though we be fewer than they be. '

Folk-might smiled and nodded his head; but the others sat staringdown the hall or into the hangings. 

Then spake Folk-might: 'Thou wert a boy methought when I cast myspear at thee last autumn, Face-of-god, but now hast thou grown intoa 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 uponthem 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 thewood to fall upon them when we meet them? Yea, and so doing theseour guests have already slain many, as this valiant man hath told mee'en now. Will ye not slay so many at last, that they shall learn tofear 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 beentalking about me when I was without in the street e'en now. Even ifit might be that we should thus cow these felons into abiding at homeand tormenting their own thralls at their ease, yet how then are ourfriends of the Wolf holpen to their own again? And I shall tell theethat I have promised to this man and this woman that I will give themno less than a man's help in this matter. Moreover, I have spoken inevery 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 nogreat way from their own houses; yea, they have seen it; and theyremember the old saw, "Grief in thy neighbour's hall is grief in thygarth, " 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 leaveus alone in the Dale. '

'This is no less than sooth, ' said the Dale-warden, 'never have mengone forth more joyously to a merry-making than all men of us shallwend to this war. '

'But, ' said Face-of-god, 'of one thing ye may be sure, that these menwill not abide our pleasure till we cut them all off in scatteredbands, nor will they sit deedless at home. Nor indeed may they; forwe have heard from their thralls that they look to have fresh tribesof them come to hand to eat their meat and waste their servants, andthese and they must find new abodes and new thralls; and they are nowwarned by the overthrows and slayings that they have had at our handsthat we are astir, and they will not delay long, but will fall uponus with all their host; it might even be to-day or to-morrow. '

Said Folk-might: 'In all this thou sayest sooth, brother of theDale; and to cut this matter short, I will tell you all, thatyesterday we had with us a runaway from Silver-dale (it is overlongto tell how we fell in with her; for it was a woman). But she toldus that this very moon is a new tribe come into the Dale, six longhundreds in number, and twice as many more are looked for in twoeights of days, and that ere this moon hath waned, that is, intwenty-four days, they will wend their ways straight for Burgdale, for they know the ways thereto. So I say that Face-of-god is rightin all wise. But tell me, brother, hast thou thought of how we shallcome 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 alltold. '

'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-showin the Dale, and we find that we together with you be sixteen longhundreds of men; and the tale of the foemen that be now in Silver-dale, new-comers and all, shall be three thousands or thereabout, andin Rose-dale hard on a thousand. '

'Scarce so many, ' said Folk-might; 'some of the felons have died; wetold over our silver arm-rings yesterday, and the tale was threehundred and eighty and six. Besides, they were never so many as thoudeemest. '

'Well, ' said Face-of-god, 'yet at least they shall outnumber ussorely. We may scarce leave the Dale unguarded when our host isgone; therefore I deem that we shall have but one thousand of men forour onslaught on Silver-dale. '

'How come ye to that?' said Stone-face. 

Said Face-of-god: 'Abide a while, fosterer! Though the odds betweenus be great, it is not to be hidden that I wot how ye of the Wolfknow of privy passes into Silver-dale; yea, into the heart thereof;and this is the special gain ye have to give us. Therefore we, thethousand men, falling on the foe unawares, shall make a greatslaughter of them; and if the murder be but grim enough, thosethralls of theirs shall fear us and not them, as already they hatethem and not us, so that we may look to them for rooting out thesesorry weeds after the overthrow. And what with one thing, what withanother, we may cherish a good hope of clearing Silver-dale at onestroke 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-dalewith the men that are left over from the Silver-dale onslaught. Wherefore my rede is, that we gather all those unmeet for battle inthe 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, andsturdy women, to defend themselves till help comes, if aught of evilbefall, or to flee into the mountains, or at the worst to dievaliantly. Then let the other five hundreds fare up to Rose-dale, and fall on the Dusky Men therein about the same time, but not beforeour onslaught on Silver-dale: thus shall hand help foot, so thatstumbling be not falling; and we may well hope that our rede shallthrive. '

Then was he silent, and the Sun-beam looked upon him with gleamingeyes and parted lips, waiting eagerly to hear what Folk-might wouldsay. He held his peace a while, drumming on the board with hisfingers, and none else spake a word. At last he said:

'War-leader of Burgdale, all that thou hast spoken likes me well, andeven so must it be done, saving that parting of our host and sendingone part to fall upon Rose-dale. I say, nay; let us put all ourmight into that one stroke on Silver-dale, and then we are undoneindeed if we fail; but so shall we be if we fail anywise; but if wewin Silver-dale, then shall Rose-dale lie open before us. '

'My brother, ' said Face-of-god, 'thou art a tried warrior, and I buta lad: but dost thou not see this, that whatever we do, we shall notat one onslaught slay all the Dusky Men of Silver-dale, and thosethat flee before us shall betake them to Rose-dale, and tell all thetale, and what shall hinder them then from falling on Burgdale (sincethey are no great way from it) after they have murdered what theywill of the unhappy people under their hands?'

Said Folk-might: 'I say not but that there is a risk thereof, but inwar we must needs run such risks, and all should be risked ratherthan that our blow on Silver-dale be light. For we be the fewer; andif the foemen have time to call that to mind, then are we all lost. '

Said Stone-face: 'Meseemeth, War-leader, that there is nought muchto dread in leaving Rose-dale to itself for a while; for not only maywe follow hard on the fleers if they flee to Rose-dale, and be thereno long time after them, before they have time to stir their host butalso after the overthrow we shall be free to send men back toBurgdale by way of Shadowy Vale. I deem that herein Folk-might haththe right of it. '

'Even so say I, ' said the Alderman; 'besides, we might theft leavemore folk behind us for the warding of the Dale. So, son, the riskwhereof thou speakest groweth the lesser the longer it is looked on. '

Then spake the Dale-warden: 'Yet saving your wisdom, Alderman, therisk is there yet. For if these felons come into the Dale at all, even if the folk left behind hold the Burg and keep themselvesunmurdered, yet may they not hinder the foe from spoiling ourhomesteads; so that our folk coming back in triumph shall find ruinat 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 tothink of it and of other matters. Yet one thing we must bear inmind, 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 ourstroke at first. Therefore, I say, send we no man to Rose-dale, andleave we no able man-at-arms behind in the Burg, so that we have withus every blade that may be gathered. '

Iron-face smiled and said: 'Thou art wise, damsel; and I marvel thatso fair-fashioned a thing as thou can think so hardly of the meetingof the fallow blades. But hearken! will not the Dusky Men hear thatwe have stripped the Dale of fighting-men, and may they not then giveour host the go-by and send folk to ruin us?'

There was silence while Face-of-god looked down on the board; butpresently he lifted up his face and said:

'Folk-might was right when he said that all must be risked. Let usleave 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 likewits to us, to forecast the deeds to come, and weigh the chancesnicely, and unravel tangled clews. Rather they move like to thestares in autumn, or the winter wild-geese, and will all be thrustforward by some sting that entereth into their imaginations. Therefore, if they have appointed one moon to wear before they fallupon us, they will not stir till then, and we have time enough to dowhat must be done. Wherefore am I now of one mind with the rest ofyou. Now meseemeth it were well that these things which we havespoken here, and shall speak, should not be noised abroad openly;nay, at the Folk-mote it would be well that nought be said about theday or the way of our onslaught on Silver-dale, lest the foe takewarning and be on their guard. Though, sooth to say, did I deem thatif they had word of our intent they of Rose-dale would jointhemselves to them of Silver-dale, and that we should thus have allour 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 thewood for the slaying of a man here, and two or three there, and thewearing of the days in wandering up and down with weapons in thehand, and the spinning out of hatred and delaying of peace. '

Then Iron-face reached his hand across the board and took his son'shand, and said:

'Hail to thee, son, for thy word! Herein thou speakest as if from myvery soul, and fain am I of such a War-leader. '

And desire drew the eyes of the Sun-beam to Face-of-god, and shebeheld him proudly. But he said:

'All hath been spoken that the others of us may speak; and now itfalleth to the part of Folk-might to order our goings for the trystfor 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-leaderto see to this closely and piecemeal. I deem, as we all deem, thatthere should be no delay; yet were it best to wend not all togetherto Shadowy Vale, but in divers bands, as soon as ye may after theFolk-mote, by the sure and nigh ways that we shall show you. Andwhen we are gathered there, short is the rede, for all is ready thereto wend by the passes which we know throughly, and whereby it is buttwo days' journey to the head of Silver-dale, nigh to the caves ofthe silver, where the felons dwell the thickest. '

He set his teeth, and his colour came and went: for as constantly asthe onslaught had been in his mind, yet whenever he spake of thegreat day of battle, hope and joy and anger wrought a tumult in hissoul; and now that it was so nigh withal, he could not refrain hisjoy. 

But he spake again: 'Now therefore, War-leader, it is for thee toorder the goings of thy folk. But I will tell thee that they shallnot need to take aught with them save their weapons and victual forthe way, that is, for thirty hours; because all is ready for them inShadowy Vale, though it be but a poor place as to victual. Canstthou tell us, therefore, what thou wilt do?'

Face-of-god had knit his brows and become gloomy of countenance; butnow his face cleared, and he set his hand to his pouch, and drewforth a written parchment, and said:

'This is the order whereof I have bethought me. Before the Folk-moteI and the Wardens shall speak to the leaders of hundreds, who bemostly here at the Fair, and give them the day and the hour whereonthey shall, each hundred, take their weapons and wend to ShadowyVale, and also the place where they shall meet the men of yours whoshall lead them across the Waste. These hundred-leaders shall thengo straightway and give the word to the captains of scores, and thecaptains of scores to the captains of tens; and if, as is scarcedoubtful, the Folk-mote yea-says the onslaught and the fellowshipwith you of the Wolf, then shall those leaders of tens bring theirmen to the trysting-place, and so go their ways to Shadowy Vale. Nowhere I have the roll of our Weapon-show, and I will look to it thatnone shall be passed over; and if ye ask me in what order they hadbest get on the way, my rede is that a two hundred should depart onthe very evening of the day of the Folk-mote, and these to be of ourfolk 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 thesame day the folk of the Shepherds, three hundreds or more, and thatwill be easy to them; again on the next day two more bands of theLower Dale, one in the morning, one in the evening. Lastly, in theearliest dawn of the third day from the Folk-mote shall theWoodlanders wend their ways. But one hundred of men let us leavebehind for the warding of the Burg, even as we agreed before. As forthe place of tryst for the faring over the Waste, let it be the endof the knolls just by the jaws of the pass yonder, where theWeltering Water comes into the Dale from the East. How say ye?'

They all said, and Folk-might especially, that it was right welldevised, 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 maybe, 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 withhim, and the twain set about their business straight-way. Neitherdid the others abide long in the Hall, but went out into the Burg tosee the chapmen and their wares. There the Alderman bought what heneeded of iron and steel and other matters; and Folk-might cheapenedhim a dagger curiously wrought, and a web of gold and silk for theSun-beam, for which wares he paid in silver arm-rings, new-wroughtand of strange fashion. 

But amidst of the chaffer was now a great ring of men; and in themidst of the ring stood Redesman, fiddle and bow in hand, and withhim were four damsels wondrously arrayed; for the first was clad in asmock so craftily wrought with threads of green and many colours, that it seemed like a piece of the green field beset with primrosesand cowslips and harebells and windflowers, rather than a garmentwoven and sewn; and in her hand she bore a naked sword, with goldenhilts and gleaming blade. But the second bore on her roses done inlike manner, both blossoms and green leaves, wherewith her body wascovered decently, which else had been naked. The third was clad asthough she were wading the wheat-field to the waist, and above waswrapped in the leaves and bunches of the wine-tree. And the fourthwas clad in a scarlet gown flecked with white wool to set forth thewinter's snow, and broidered over with the burning brands of the HolyHearth; and she bore on her head a garland of mistletoe. And thesefour damsels were clearly seen to image the four seasons of the year--Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. But amidst them stood afountain or conduit of gilded work cunningly wrought, and full of thebest wine of the Dale, and gilded cups and beakers hung about it. 

So now Redesman fell to caressing his fiddle with the bow till itbegan to make sweet music, and therewith the hearts of all dancedwith it; and presently words come into his mouth, and he fell tosinging; 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 thering, clad in very fair armour, with a gilded helm on his head; andhe took the sword from the hand of the Maiden of Spring, and waved itin the air till the westering sun flashed back from it. Then each ofthe four damsels went up to the swain and kissed his mouth; andRedesman drew the bow across the strings, and the four damsels sangtogether, 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 takeA 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 ofthe best and brightest wine of the Dale, and went round about thering, and gave drink to whomsoever would, both of the chapmen and theothers; while the weaponed youth stood in the midst bearing aloft hissword and shield like an image in a holy place, and Redesman's bowstill went up and down the strings, and drew forth a sweet and merrytune. 

Great game it was now to see the stark Burgdale carles dragging theMen of the Plain, little loth, up to the front of the ring, that theymight stretch out their hands for a cup, and how many a one, as hetook it, took as much as he might of the damsel's hand withal. Asfor the damsels, they played the Holy Play very daintily, neitherreddening nor laughing, but faring so solemnly, and withal so sweetlyand bright-faced, that it might well have been deemed that they werein very sooth Maidens of the God of Earth sent from the ever-enduringHall to cheer the hearts of men. 

So simply and blithely did the Men of Burgdale disport them after themanner of their fathers, trusting in their valour and beholding thegood days to be. 

So wore the evening, and when night was come, men feasted throughoutthe Burg from house to house, and every hall was full. But theGuests from Shadowy Vale feasted in the Hall of the Face in all gleeand goodwill; and with them were the chief of the chapmen and twoothers; but the rest of them had been laid hold of by goodmen of theBurg, and dragged into their feast-halls, for they were fain of thoseguests and their tales. One of the chapmen in the House of the Faceknew Folk-might, and hailed him by the name he had borne in theCities, Regulus to wit; indeed, the chief chapman knew him, and evensomewhat over-well, for he had been held to ransom by Folk-might inthose 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 anopen-hearted and merry fellow, and no weakling; and Folk-might wasfain of his talk concerning times bygone, and the fields they hadfoughten in, and other adventures that had befallen them, both goodand evil. 

As for Face-of-god, he went about the Hall soberly, and spake no morethan behoved him, so as not to seem a mar-feast; for the image of theslaughter to be yet abode with him, and his heart foreboded theafter-grief of the battle. He had no speech with the Sun-beam tillmen were sundering after the feast, and then he came close to heramidst of the turmoil, and said:

'Time presses on me these days; but if thou wouldest speak with meto-morrow as I would with thee, then mightest thou go on the Bridgeof 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 beenwatching his), brightened at that word, and she took his hand as folkcame thronging round about them, and said:

'Yea, friend, I shall be there, and fain of thee. ' And therewithalthey sundered for that night. 

And all men went to sleep throughout the Burg: howbeit they set awatch at the Burg-Gate; and Hall-face, when he was coming back fromthe woodland ward about sunset, fell in with Redcoat of Waterless andfour 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 atmost 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 ashe turned about at the Bridge-foot he saw the Sun-beam coming downthe street; and his heart rose to his mouth at the sight of her, andhe went to meet her and took her by the hand; and there were no wordsbetween them till they had kissed and caressed each other, for therewas no one stirring about them. So they went over the Bridge intothe 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 thewild tulip: the black-thorn was well-nigh done blooming, but thehawthorn was in bud, and in some places growing white. It was a fairmorning, warm and cloudless, but the night had been misty, and thehaze still hung about the meadows of the Dale where they werewettest, and the grass and its flowers were heavy with dew, so thatthe Sun-beam went barefoot in the meadow. She had a dark cloak castover her kirtle, and had left her glittering gown behind her in theHouse. 

They went along hand in hand exceeding fain of each other, and thesun rose as they went, and the long beams of gold shone through thetops of the tall trees across the grass they trod, and a light windrose up in the north, as Face-of-god stayed a moment and turnedtoward the Face of the Sun and prayed to Him, while the Sun-beam'shand left the War-leader's hand and stole up to his golden locks andlay amongst them. 

Presently they went on, and the feet of Face-of-god led him unwittingtoward the chestnut grove by the old dyke where he had met the Bridesuch a little while ago, till he bethought whither he was going andstopped 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 theday's work beginneth. '

So then he turned aside, and soon they came to a hawthorn brake outof which arose a great tall-stemmed oak, showing no green as yet savea little on its lower twigs; and anigh it, yet with room for itsboughs to grow freely, was a great bird-cherry tree, all covered nowwith sweet-smelling white blossoms. There they sat down on the trunkof a tree felled last year, and she cast off her cloak, and took hisface between her two hands and kissed him long and fondly, and for awhile their joy had no word. But when speech came to them, it wasshe that spake first and said:

'Gold-mane, my dear, sorely I wonder at thee and at me, how we arechanged since that day last autumn when I first saw thee. Whiles Ithink, didst thou not laugh when thou wert by thyself that day, andmock at me privily, that I must needs take such wisdom on myself, andlesson thee standing like a stripling before me. Dost thou not callit all to mind and make merry over it, now that thou art become agreat chieftain and a wise warrior, and I am yet what I always was, ayoung maiden of the kindred; save that now I abide no longer for mylove?'

Her face was exceeding bright and rippled with joyous smiles, and helooked at her and deemed that her heart was overflowing withhappiness, 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 theeand 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 deemthee a God then? and am I not most happy now when I can call it thusto mind? And as to thee, thou wert wise then, and yet art thou wisenow. Yea, I thought thee a God; and if we are changed, is it notrather 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 thyyearning hope for its recoverance, was but a painted show. Else whyshouldst 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 ofShadowy Vale, how the tears stood in thine eyes as thou beheldesthim, and thine hand in mine quivered and clung to me, and thou wertall changed in a moment of time? Was all this then but a seeming anda beguilement?'

'O young man, ' she said, 'hast thou not said it, that we stood thereclose 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? Ortell me: what was it made thee so chieftain-like in the Hallyesterday, so that thou wert the master of all our wills, for asself-willed as some of us were? Was it not that I, whom thou deemestlovely, was thereby watching thee and rejoicing in thee? Did not thesweetness of thy love quicken thee? Yet because of that was thywarrior's wisdom and thy foresight an empty show? Heedest thounought the Folk of the Dale? Wouldest thou sunder from the childrenof the Fathers, and dwell amongst strangers?'

He kissed her and smiled on her and said: 'Did I not say of theethat thou wert wiser than the daughters of men? See how wise thouhast made me!'

She spake again: 'Nay, nay, there was no feigning in my love for mypeople. How couldest thou think it, when the Fathers and the kindredhave made this body that thou lovest, and the voice of their songs isin the speech thou deemest sweet?'

He said: 'Sweet friend, I deemed not that there was feigning inthee: I was but wondering what I am and how I was fashioned, that Ishould make thee so glad that thou couldst for a while forget thyhope of the days before we met. '

She said: 'O how glad, how glad! Yet was I nought hapless. Indespite of all trouble I had no down-weighing grief, and I had thehope of my people before me. Good were my days; but I knew not tillnow how glad a child of man may be. '

Their words were hushed for a while amidst their caresses. Then shesaid:

'Gold-mane, my friend, I mocked not my past self because I deem thatI was a fool then, but because I see now that all that my wisdomcould do, would have come about without my wisdom; and that thou, deeming thyself something less than wise, didst accomplish the thingI craved, and that which thou didst crave also; and withal wisdomembraced 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 Godand fearedst me, but now thou seemest to me to be a God, and I fearthee. Yea, though I have longed so sore to be with thee since theday of Shadowy Vale, and though I have wearied of the slow wearing ofthe days, and it hath tormented me; yet now that I am with thee, Ibless the torment of my longing; for it is but my longing thatcompelleth me to cast away my fear of thee and caress thee, because Ihave learned how sweet it is to love thee thus. '

He wound his arms about her, and sweeter was their longing than merejoy; and though their love was beyond measure, yet was therein noshame to aught, not even to the lovely Dale and that fair season ofspring, so goodly they were among the children of men. 

In a while they arose and turned homeward, and went over the openmeadow, and it was yet early, and the dew was as heavy on the grassas before, though the wide sunlight was now upon it, glittering onthe wet blades, and shining through the bells of the chequereddaffodils till they looked like gouts of blood. 

'Look, ' said Sun-beam, as they went along by the same way whereasthey came, 'deemest thou not that other speech-friends besides ushave been abroad to talk together apart on this morning of the eve ofbattle. It is nought unwonted, that we do, even though we forget thetrouble 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 Iwould die for the kindred and its good days, nor falter therein; butif I am to die, might I but die in thine arms!'

He looked very lovingly on her, and put his arm about her and kissedher and said: 'What ails us to stand in the doom-ring and bearwitness against ourselves before the kindred? Now I will say, thatwhatsoever 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 truewhich 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 itto win through this war, and find on the other side either death, orlife amongst a happy folk; and I deem that this is mostly the mind ofour people. '

She said: 'Thou shalt not die, thou shalt not die!'

'Mayhappen not, ' he said; 'yet yesterday I could not but look intothe slaughter to come, and it seemed to me a grim thing, and darkenedthe day for me; and I grew acold as a man walking with the dead. Buttell me: thou sayest I shall not die; dost thou say this onlybecause I am become dear to thee, or dost thou speak it out of thyforesight of things to come?'

She stopped and looked silently a while over the meadows towards thehouses of the Thorp: they were standing now on the border of ashallow brook that ran down toward the Weltering Water; it had alittle strand of fine sand like the sea-shore, driven close together, and all moist, because that brook was used to flood the meadow forthe feeding of the grass; and the last evening the hatches which heldup the water had been drawn, so that much had ebbed away and left thestrand aforesaid. 

After a while the Sun-beam turned to Face-of-god, and she was becomesomewhat pale; she said:

'Nay, I have striven to see, and can see nought save the picture ofhope and fear that I make for myself. So it oft befalleth foreseeingwomen, 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 forme and thee together?'

'Yea, ' he said, 'and well content I am; so now let each of us trustin the other to be both good and dear, even as I trusted in thee thefirst hour that I looked on thee. '

'It is well, ' she said; 'it is well. How fair thou art; and how fairis the morn, and this our Dale in the goodly season; and all thisabideth us when the battle is over. '

Once more her voice became sweet and wheedling, and the smile lit upher face again, and she pointed down to the sand with her finger, andsaid:

'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 firstfootprints are of a woman, for no carle of the Dale has a foot assmall; for we be tall fellows; and these others withal are a man'sfootprints; and if they showed that they had been walking side byside, simple had been thy tale; but so it is not. I cannot say thatthese two pairs of feet went over the brook within five minutes ofeach other; but sure it is that they could not have been faring sideby side. Well, belike they were lovers bickering, and we may wishthem luck out of that. Truly it is well seen that Bow-may hath donethine hunting for thee, dear friend; or else wouldest thou havelacked venison; for thou hast no hunter's eye. '

'Well, ' she said, 'but wish them luck, and give me thine hand uponit. '

He took her hand, and fondled it, and said: 'By this hand of myspeech-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, dearfriend; for the day's work is at hand. '

'It is well wished, ' she said. 'Now hearken: by the valiant hand ofthe War-leader, by the hand that shall unloose my girdle, I wishthese twain to be as happy as we be. '

He made as if to draw her away, but she hung aback to set the printof 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 tohis business of ordering matters for the warfare, and was wishful tospeak with Folk-might; but found him not, either in the House or thestreet. But a man said:

'I saw the tall Guest come abroad from the House and go toward theBridge very early in the morning. '

The Sun-beam, who was anigh when that was spoken, heard it andsmiled, and said: 'Gold-mane, deemest thou that it was my brotherwhom we blessed?'

'I wot not, ' he said; 'but I would he were here, for this gear mustspeedily be looked to. '

Nevertheless it was nigh an hour before Folk-might came home to theHouse. He strode in lightly and gaily, and shaking the crest of hiswar-helm as he went. He looked friendly on Face-of-god, and said tohim:

'Thou hast been seeking me, War-leader; but grudge it not that I havecaused thee to tarry. For as things have gone, I am twice the manfor thine helping that I was yester-eve; and thou art so ready anddeft, that all will be done in due time. '

He looked as if he would have had Face-of-god ask of him what madehim so fain, but Face-of-god said only:

'I am glad of thy gladness; but now let us dally no longer, for Ihave many folk to see to-day and much to set a-going. '

So therewith they spake together a while, and then went their waystogether 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 themthan they wotted of. For Folk-might, who had had many thoughts andlongings since he had seen the Bride again, rose up early aboutsunrise, and went out-a-doors, and wandered about the Burg, lettinghis 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 whichshowed the blossomed boughs of pear and cherry and plum-trees: oneither hand before the wall was a row of great lindens, now showingtheir first tender green, especially on their lower twigs, where theywere sheltered by the wall. At the nether end of this place Folk-might saw a grey stone house, and he went towards it betwixt thelindens, for it seemed right great, and presently was but a score ofpaces 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 hallwas built over some undercroft, for many steps went up to the door oneither hand; and the doorway was low, with a straight lintel underits arch. This house, like the House of the Face, seemed ancient andsomewhat strange, and Folk-might could not choose but take note ofit. The front was all of good ashlar work, but it was carven allover, without heed being paid to the joints of the stones, into onepicture of a flowery meadow, with tall trees and bushes in it, andfowl perched in the trees and running through the grass, and sheepand kine and oxen and horses feeding down the meadow; and over thedoor at the top of the stair was wrought a great steer bigger thanall the other neat, whose head was turned toward the sun-rising anduplifted with open mouth, as though he were lowing aloud. Exceedingfair seemed that house to Folk-might, and as though it were thedwelling of some great kindred. 

But he had scarce gone over it with his eyes, and was just about todraw nigher yet to it, when the door at the top of those stepsopened, and a woman came out of the house clad in a green kirtle anda 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 ofthe trees so that she might not see him, if she had not already seenhim, as it seemed not that she had, for she stayed but for a momenton the top of the stair, looking out down the tree-rows, and thencame down the stair and went soberly along the road, passing so closeto Folk-might that he could see the fashion of her beauty closely, asone looks into the work of some deftest artificer. Then it camesuddenly into his head that he would follow her and see whither shewas wending. 'At least, ' said he to himself, 'if I come not tospeech with her, I shall be nigh unto her, and shall see somewhat ofher 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 toclash and jingle, though he had his helm on his head for lack of asofter hat. He kept her well in sight, and she went straight onwardand looked not back. She went by the way whereas he had come, tillthey were in the main street, wherein as yet was no one afoot; shemade her way to the Bridge, and passed over it into the meadows; butwhen she had gone but a few steps, she stayed a little and looked onthe ground, and as she did so turned a little toward Folk-might, whohad drawn back into the last of the refuges over the up-streambuttresses. He saw that there was a half-smile on her face, but hecould not tell whether she were glad or sorry. A light wind wasbeginning to blow, that stirred her raiment and raised a lock of hairthat had strayed from the golden fillet round about her head, and shelooked most marvellous fair. 

Now she looked along the grass that glittered under the beams of thenewly-risen sun, and noted belike how heavy the dew lay on it; andthe grass was high already, for the spring had been hot, and hayselwould be early in the Dale. So she put off her shoes, that were ofdeerskin and broidered with golden threads, and turned somewhat fromthe way, and hung them up amidst the new green leaves of a hawthornbush that stood nearby, and so went thwart the meadow somewhateastward straight from that bush, and her feet shone out like pearlsamidst 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 comeup with her and hailed her, and he knew that she was no foolishmaiden 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 ofthe shallow without staying, and on through the tall deep grass ofthe meadow beyond, to where they met the brook again; for it sweptround the meadow in a wide curve, and turned back toward itself; soit was some half furlong over from water to water. 

She stood a while on the brink of the brook here, which was brim-fulland nigh running into the grass, because there was a dam just belowthe place; and Folk-might drew nigher to her under cover of thethorn-bushes, and looked at the place about her and beyond her. Themeadow beyond stream was very fair and flowery, but not right great;for it was bounded by a grove of ancient chestnut trees, that went onand on toward the southern cliffs of the Dale: in front of thechestnut wood stood a broken row of black-thorn bushes, now growinggreen and losing their blossom, and he could see betwixt them thatthere was a grassy bank running along, as if there had once been aturf-wall and ditch round about the chestnut trees. For indeed thiswas the old place of tryst between Gold-mane and the Bride, whereofthe 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 seeher face; for her shoulders heaved, and she hung her face adown andput up her hands to it. But now she went a little higher up thestream, where the water was shallower, and waded the stream and wentup over the meadow, still weeping, as he deemed, and went between theblack-thorn bushes, and sat her down on the grassy bank with her backto the chestnut trees. 

Folk-might was ashamed to have seen her weeping, and was half-mindedto turn him back again at once; but love constrained him, and he saidto himself, 'Where shall I see her again privily if I pass by thistime and place?' So he waited a little till he deemed she might havemastered the passion of tears, and then came forth from his bush, andwent down to the water and crossed it, and went quietly over themeadow straight towards her. But he was not half-way across, whenshe lifted up her face from between her hands and beheld the mancoming. She neither started nor rose up; but straightened herself asshe 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 mightyHouse! Mayst thou live happy!'

She answered: 'Hail to thee also, Guest of our Folk! Hast thou beenwandering 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 tobehold thee, even if I might not speak with thee. '

She looked on him with her deep simple eyes, and neither reddenedagain, nor seemed wroth; then she said:

'Speak what thou hast in thine heart, and I will hearken withoutanger whatsoever it may be; even if thou hast but to tell me of thepassing folly of a mighty man, which in a month or two he will notremember for sorrow or for joy. Sit here beside me, and tell me thythought. '

So he sat him adown and said: 'Yea, I have much to say to thee, butit is hard to me to say it. But this I will say: to-day andyesterday make the third time I have seen thee. The first time thouwert happy and calm, and no shadow of trouble was on thee; the secondtime thine happy days were waning, though thou scarce knewest it; butto-day and yesterday thou art constrained by the bonds of grief, andwouldest loosen them if thou mightest. '

She said: 'What meanest thou? How knowest thou this? How may astranger partake in my joy and my sorrow?'

He said: 'As for yesterday, all the people might see thy grief andknow it. But when I beheld thee the first time, I saw thee that thouwert more fair and lovely than all other women; and when I was awayfrom thee, the thought of thee and thine image were with me, and Imight not put them away; and oft at such and such a time I wonderedand said to myself, what is she doing now? though god wot I wasdealing with tangles and troubles and rough deeds enough. But thesecond time I beheld thee, when I had looked to have great joy in thesight of thee, my heart was smitten with a pang of grief; for I sawthee hanging on the words and the looks of another man, who waslight-minded toward thee, and that thou wert troubled with theanguish of doubt and fear. And he knew it not, nor saw it, though Isaw 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, anddo thou hearken to it. I saw thee yesterday in the street, and thouwert as the ghost of thine old gladness; although belike thou haststriven with sorrow; for I see thee with a sword by thy side, and wehave been told that thou, O fairest of women, hast given thyself tothe Warrior to be his damsel. '

'Yea, ' she said, 'that is sooth. '

He went on: 'But the face which thou bearedst yesterday against thywill, amidst all the people, that was because thou hadst seen mysister the Sun-beam for the first time, and Face-of-god with her, hand clinging to hand, lip longing for lip, desire unsatisfied, butglad with all hope. '

She laid hand upon hand in the lap of her gown, and looked down, andher 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 bewhilst thou art grieved; and it is my wont to strive with my griefstill I amend them. '

She turned to him with kind eyes and said:

'O mighty man, canst thou clear away the tangle which besetteth thesoul of her whose hope hath bewrayed her? Canst thou make hope growup in her heart? Friend, I will tell thee that when I wed, I shallwed for the sake of the kindred, hoping for no joy therein. Yea, orif by some chance the desire of man came again into my heart, Ishould strive with it to rid myself of it, for I should know of itthat it was but a wasting folly, that should but beguile me, andwound 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 dayit 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 toshake 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, andremember what I have told thee of my grief which cannot be sunderedfrom thine? Shall we not talk more concerning this? For surely Ishall soon see thee again, and often; since the Warrior, who lovethme belike, leadeth thee into fellowship with me. Yea, I tell thee, Ofriend, that in that fellowship shalt thou find both the seed ofhope, and the sun of desire that shall quicken it. '

Therewith he arose and stood before her, and held out to her his handall hardened with the sword-hilt, and she took it, and stood upfacing him, and said:

'This much will I tell thee, O friend; that what I have said to theethis hour, I thought not to have said to any man; or to talk with aman 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 hastdrawn this speech from out of me, and left me neither angry norashamed, 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 theHouse of the Face, where I was once so frequent; for I wot that thouhast much to do; and as thou sayest, it will be in warfare that Ishall see thee. Now I thank thee for thy words and the thought thouhast 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'shurts even to a friend. '

He said: 'O Bride, I thank thee for hearkening to my tale; and oneday shall I thank thee much more. Mayest thou fare well in the Fieldand amidst the Folk!'

Therewith he kissed her hand, and turned away, and went across themeadow and the stream, glad at heart and blithe with everyone; forkindness 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 throngingfrom everywhere to the Mote-stead, but most from Burgstead itself, whereas few of the Dale-dwellers who had been at the Fair had goneback home. Albeit some of the Shepherds and of the Dalesmen of thewesternmost Dale had brought light tents, and tilted themselves in inthe night before the Mote down in the meadows below the Mote-stead. From early morning there had been a stream of folk on the Portwaysetting westward; and many came thus early that they might holdconverse with friends and well-wishers; and some that they mightdisport them in the woods. Men went in no ordered bands, as theBurgstead men at least had done on the day of the Weapon-show, savethat a few of them who were arrayed the bravest gathered about thebanners, and went with them to the Mote-stead; for all the bannersmust needs be there. 

The Folk-mote was to be hallowed-in three hours before noon, as allmen knew; therefore an hour before that time were all men of the Daleand the Shepherds assembled that might be looked for, save theAlderman and the chieftains with the banner of the Burg, and thesewere not like to come many minutes before the Hallowing. Folk weregathered on the Field in such wise, that the men-at-arms made a greatring round about the Doom-ring, (albeit there were many old menthere, girt with swords that they should never heave up again inbattle), so that without that ring there was nought save women andchildren. But when all the other Houses were assembled, men lookedaround, and beheld the place of the Woodlanders that it was empty;and they marvelled that they were thus belated. For now all wasready, and a watcher had gone up to the Tower on the height, and hadwith him the great Horn of Warning, which could be heard past theMote-stead and a great way down the Dale: and if he saw foes comingfrom the East he should blow one blast; if from the South, two; iffrom the West, three; if from the North, four. 

So half an hour from the appointed time of Hallowing rose the rumourthat the Alderman was on the road, and presently they of the womenwho were on the outside of the throng, by drawing nigh to the edge ofthe 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. Speedilythey 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 bottomof the steep slope that went up to the Mote-stead, and the banner ofthe Burg came on proudly up the hill. Soon all men beheld it, andsaw 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 tohim that morning. 

After Face-of-god came the Alderman, and with him Folk-might leadingthe Sun-beam by the hand, and then Stone-face and the Elder of theDale-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 theAltar of the Gods, and those who had been sitting down sprang totheir feet, and the confused rumour of the throng rose into a clearshout as the chieftains went to their places, and sat them down onthe turf-seats amidst the Doom-ring facing the Speech-hill and theAltar of the Gods. Amidmost sat the Alderman, on his right handFace-of-god, and out from him Hall-face, and then Stone-face andthree 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 theearth behind them, and the Banner raised itself in the morning windand flapped and rippled over their heads. 

There then they sat, and folk abided, and it still lacked someminutes of the due time, as the Alderman wotted by the shadow of thegreat standing-stone betwixt him and the Altar. Therewithal came thesound of a great horn from out of the wood on the north side, and menknew it for the horn of the Woodland Carles, and were glad; for theycould 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 womenand children to behold their coming; but their empty place was at thesouthwest corner of the ring of men. 

So presently men beheld them marching toward their place, cleavingthe throng of the women and children, a great company; for besidesthat they had with them two score more of men under weapons than onthe day of the Weapon-show, all their little ones and women andoutworn elders were with them, some on foot, some riding on oxen andasses. In their forefront went the two signs of the Battle-shaft andthe War-spear. But moreover, in front of all was borne a great staffwith the cloth of a banner wrapped round about it, and tied up with ahempen 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 horndied out, and for a few moments they fared on with no sound save thetramp of their feet; then all at once the man who bare the hiddenbanner lifted up one hand, and straightway they fell to singing, andwith that song they came to their place. And this is some of whatthey 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 aslantBright 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 camepouring tumultuously into the space allotted them, like the waterspouring over a river-dam, their white swords waving aloft in themorning sunlight; and wild and strange cries rose up from amidstthem, with sobbing and weeping of joy. But soon their troubled frontsank back into ordered ranks, their bright blades stood upright intheir hands before them, and folk looked on their company, and deemedit the very Terror of battle and Render of the ranks of war. Rightwell were they armed; for though many of their weapons were ancientand 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, thathad the Alderman and his sons made good to them. 

But before the hedge of steel stood the two tall men who held intheir hands the war-tokens of the Battle-shaft and the War-spear, andbetwixt them stood one who was indeed the tallest man of the wholeassembly, who held the great staff of the hidden banner. And now hereached up his hand, and plucked at the yarn that bound it, which ofset purpose was but feeble, and tore it off, and then shook the staffaloft with both hands, and shouted, and lo! the Banner of the Wolfwith the Sun-burst behind him, glittering-bright, new-woven by thewomen of the kindred, ran out in the fresh wind, and flapped andrippled before His warriors there assembled. 

Then from all over the Mote-stead arose an exceeding great shout, andall men waved aloft their weapons; but the men of Shadowy Vale whowere standing amidst the men of the Face knew not how to demeanthemselves, and some of them ran forth into the Field and leapt forjoy, tossing their swords into the air, and catching them by thehilts as they fell: and amidst it all the Woodlanders now stoodsilent, unmoving, as men abiding the word of onset. 

As for that brother and sister: the Sun-beam flushed red all overher face, and pressed her hands to her bosom, and then the passion oftears over-mastered her, and her breast heaved, and the tears gushedout 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 hissword, which lay naked across his knees. And the Bride, who stoodclad in her begemmed and glittering war-array in the forefront of theMen of the Steer, nigh unto the seats of the chieftains, beheld Folk-might, and her face flushed and brightened, and still she looked uponhim. The Alderman's face was as of one pleased and proud; yet wasits joy shadowed as it were by a cloud of compassion. Face-of-godsat like the very image of the War-god, and stirred not, nor lookedtoward the Sun-beam; for still the thought of the after-grief ofbattle, and the death of friends and folk that loved him, lay heavyon his heart, for all that it beat wildly at the shouting of the men. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. OF THE GREAT FOLK-MOTE: ATONEMENTS GIVEN, AND MENMADE SACKLESS

Amidst the clamour uprose the Alderman; for it was clear to all menthat the Folk-mote should be holden at once, and the matters of theWar, and the Fellowship, and the choosing of the War-leader, speedilydealt with. So the Alderman fell to hallowing in the Folk-mote: hewent up to the Altar of the Gods, and took the Gold-ring off it, anddid it on his arm; then he drew his sword and waved it toward thefour airts, and spake; and the noise and shouting fell, and there wassilence but for him:

'Herewith I hallow in this Folk-mote of the Men of the Dale and theSheepcotes and the Woodland, in the name of the Warrior and theEarth-god and the Fathers of the kindreds. Now let not the peace ofthe Mote be broken. Let not man rise against man, or bear blade orhand, or stick or stone against any. If any man break the Peace ofthe Holy Mote, let him be a man accursed, a wild-beast in the HolyPlaces; an outcast from home and hearth, from bed and board, frommead and acre; not to be holpen with bread, nor flesh, nor wine; norflax, 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 himwho hath cast out man be cast out by man. Now is hallowed-in theFolk-mote of the Men of the Dale and the Sheepcotes and theWoodlands. '

Therewith he waved his sword again toward the four airts, and wentand 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 declareit; and the judges shall be named, and the case shall be tried thisafternoon or to-morrow. Yet first I shall tell you that I, theAlderman of the Dalesmen, doomed one Iron-face of the House of theFace to pay a double fine, for that he drew a sword at the Gate-thingof Burgstead with the intent to break the peace thereof. Thou, Green-sleeve, bring forth the peace-breaker's fine, that Iron-facemay lay the same on the Altar. '

Then came forth a man from the men of the Face bearing a bag, and hebrought it to Iron-face, who went up to the Altar and poured forthweighed 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 theAlderman, but they praised him rather: also men were eager to hearof the war, and the fellowship, and to be done with these pettymatters. 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, anOutlander, 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 oldman, long-nebbed, blear-eyed, and bent, girt with a rusty old sword, but not otherwise armed. And all men knew Penny-thumb, who had beenransacked last autumn. As he came forth, it seemed as if hisneighbours had been trying to hold him back; but a stout, broad-shouldered man, black-haired and red-bearded, made way for the oldman, and led him out of the throng, and stood by him; and this manwas well armed at all points, and looked a doughty carle. He stoodside by side with Penny-thumb, right in front of the men of hishouse, and looked about him at first somewhat uneasily, as though hewere ashamed of his fellow; but though many smiled, none laughedaloud; and they forbore, partly because they knew the man to be agood man, partly because of the solemn tide of the Folk-mote, andpartly in sooth because they wished all this to be over, and were asmen 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, pulledhim back, and said:

'I am the man who hath taken this quarrel upon me, and have swornupon the Holy Boar to carry this feud through; and we deem, Alderman, that if they who slew Rusty and ransacked Penny-thumb be not knownnow, yet they soon may be. '

As he spake, came forth those three men of the Shepherds and the twoDalesmen who had sworn with him on the Holy Boar. Then up stoodFolk-might, and came forth into the field, and said:

'Bristler, son of Brightling, and ye other good men and true, it isbut sooth that the ransackers and the slayer may soon be known; andhere I declare them unto you: I it was and none other who slewRusty; and I was the leader of those who ransacked Penny-thumb, andcowed Harts-bane of Greentofts. As for the slaying of Rusty, I slewhim because he chased me, and would not forbear, so that I musteither slay or be slain, as hath befallen me erewhile, and willbefall again, methinks. As for the ransacking of Penny-thumb, Ineeded the goods that I took, and he needed them not, since heneither used them, nor gave them away, and, they being gone, he hathlived no worser than aforetime. Now I say, that if ye will take theoutlawry 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 bearthy 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 thouand I come unslain out of this war. As to the ransacking and cowingof Harts-bane, I say that I am sackless therein, because the man isbut a ruffler and a man of violence, and hath cowed many men of theDale; and if he gainsay me, then do I call him to the Holm after thiswar is over; either him or any man who will take his place before mysword. '

Then he held his peace, and man spake to man, and a murmur arose, asthey said for the more part that it was a fair and manly offer. ButBristler called his fellows and Penny-thumb to him, and they spaketogether; and sometimes Penny-thumb's shrill squeak was heard abovethe deep-voiced talk of the others; for he was a man that harbouredmalice. But at last Bristler spake out and said:

'Tall man, we know that thou art a chieftain and of good will to themen of the Dale and their friends, and that want drave thee to theransacking, and need to the manslaying, and neither the living northe dead to whom thou art guilty are to be called good men; thereforewill 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 andtook Bristler by the hand, and handselled him self-doom. Then saidBristler:

'Though Rusty was no good man, and though he followed thee to slaythee, yet was he in his right therein, since he was following up hisgoodman'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 whatsogoods thou wilt. As for the ransacking of Penny-thumb, he shall deemhimself well paid if thou give him our hundreds in weed-stuff forthat which thou didst borrow of him. '

Then Penny-thumb set up his squeak again, but no man hearkened tohim, and each man said to his neighbour that it was well doomed ofBristler, and neither too much nor too little. But Folk-might badeWood-wont to bring thither to him that which he had borne to theMote; and he brought forth a big sack, and Folk-might emptied it onthe earth, and lo! the silver rings of the slain felons, and they layin a heap on the green field, and they were the best of silver. Thenthe 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 Bristlerlaughed, and said: 'Take it, goodman, take it; spare not other men'sgoods as thou dost thine own. '

And Folk-might stood by, smiling faintly: so Penny-thumb plucked upa heart, and drew nigh trembling, and took what he durst from thatheap; and all that stood by said that he had gotten a full double ofwhat had been awarded to him. But as for him, he went his waysstraight from the Mote-stead, and made no stay till he had gotten himhome, and laid the silver up in a strong coffer; and thereafter hebewailed him sorely that he had not taken the double of that which hetook, 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 tothe dooming of Bristler, take we off the outlawry from Folk-might andhis fellows, and account them to be sackless before us. '

Then he called for other cases; but no man had aught more to bringforward 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 TELLETHWHENCE HIS PEOPLE CAME. THE FOLK-MOTE SUNDERED

Now a great silence fell upon the throng, and they stood as menabiding some new matter. Unto them arose the Alderman, and said:

'Men of the Dale, and ye Shepherds and Woodlanders; it is well knownto you that we have foemen in the wood and beyond it; and now have wegotten 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 askyou whether ye will have peace or war; for with these foemen ye mayhave peace no otherwise save by war. But if ye think with me, threethings have ye to determine: first, whether ye will abide your foesin your own houses, or will go meet them at theirs; next, whether yewill take to you as fellows in arms a valiant folk of the children ofthe Gods, who are foemen to our foemen; and lastly, what man ye willhave to be your War-leader. Now, I bid all those here assembled, tospeak hereof, any man of them that will, either what they may haveconceived in their own minds, or what their kindred may have put intotheir mouths to speak. '

Therewith he sat down, and in a little while came forth old Hall-wardof 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, butwill go meet our foes while it is yet time. The valiant men of whomthou tellest shall be our fellows, were there but three of them. Weknow 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, thesetall men for fellows, and the shortest way to meet the foe. ' And hewent back to his place. 

Next came Fox of Upton, and said: 'Time presses, or much might bespoken. 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 forWar-leader. ' And he also went back again. 

Then came forth two men together, an old man and a young, and the oldman spake as soon as he stood still: 'The Men of the Vine bid me saytheir will: They will not stay at home to have their houses burnedover their heads, themselves slain on their own hearths, and theirwives haled off to thralldom. They will take any man for theirfellow in arms who will smite stark strokes on their side. They knowFace-of-god, and were liefer of him for War-leader than any other, and they will follow him wheresoever he leadeth. Thus my kindredbiddeth me say, and I hight Fork-beard of Lea. If I live throughthis war, I shall have lived through five. '

Therewith he went back to his place; but the young man lifted up hisvoice and said: 'To all this I say yea, and so am I bidden by thekindred of the Sickle. I am Red-beard of the Knolls, the son of myfather. ' 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 yewarriors of the Wolf. I am Stone-face, as men know, and this wordhath been given to me by the kindred. ' And he took his place again. 

Then came forth together the three chiefs of the Shepherds, to witHound-under-Greenbury, Strongitharm, and the Hyllier; andStrongitharm spake for all three, and said:

'The Men of Greenbury, and they of the Fleece and the Thorn, are ofone 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 warriorsof the Wolf to live or die with them; and that they are ready to gomeet the foe at once, and will not skulk behind the walls ofGreenbury. '

Therewith the three went back again to their places. 

Then came forth that tall man that bare the Banner of the Wolf, whenhe had given the staff into the hands of him who stood next. He cameand stood over against the seat of the chieftains; and for a while hecould say no word, but stood struggling with the strong passion ofhis joy; but at last he lifted his hands aloft, and cried out in aloud voice:

'O war, war! O death! O wounding and grief! O loss of friends andkindred! let all this be rather than the drawing back of meetinghands and the sundering of yearning hearts!' and he went back hastilyto his place. But from the ranks of the Woodlanders ran forth ayoung 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 noughtelse 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 specialwas Face-of-god moved; and he scarce knew which way to look, lest heshould break out into sobs and weeping; for of late he had been muchamong the Woodlanders, and loved them much. 

Then all the noise and clamour fell, and it was to men as if they whohad 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 theHouse of the Face for our War-leader; that we fare under weapons atonce against them who would murder us; and that we take the valiantFolk of the Wolf for our fellows in arms. '

Therewith he stayed his speech, and this time the shout arose clearand most mighty, with the tossing up of swords and the clashing ofweapons 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 ofthe kindred would have answered. '

Thereon came forth the Fiddle from amongst the Men of the Sickle, anddrew somewhat nigh to the Alderman, and said:

'Alderman, we would ask of the War-leader if he hath devised themanner of our assembling, and the way of our war-faring, and the dayof our hosting. More than this I will not ask of him, because we wotthat in so great an assembly it may be that the foe may have some spyof whom we wot not; and though this be not likely, yet some folk maybabble; therefore it is best for the wise to be wise everywhere andalways. Therefore my rede it is, that no man ask any more concerningthis, but let it lie with the War-leader to bring us face to facewith the foe as speedily as he may. '

All men said that this was well counselled. But Face-of-god aroseand said: 'Ye Men of the Dale, ye Shepherds and Woodlanders, meseemeth the Fiddle hath spoken wisely. Now therefore I answer himand say, that I have so ordered everything since the Gate-thing washolden at Burgstead, that we may come face to face with the foemen bythe shortest of roads. Every man shall be duly summoned to theHosting, and if any man fail, let it be accounted a shame to him forever. '

A great shout followed on his words, and he sat down again. But Foxof Upton came forth and said:

'O Alderman, we have yeasaid the fellowship of the valiant men whohave come to us from out of the waste; but this we have done, notbecause we have known them, otherwise than by what our kinsman Face-of-god hath told us concerning them, but because we have seen clearlythat they will be of much avail to us in our warfare. Now, therefore, if the tall chieftain who sitteth beside thee were to dous 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 alsoshall be well. '

Then arose Folk-might in his place; but or ever he could open hismouth to speak, the tall Red-wolf strode forward bearing with him theBanner 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 outabove 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 borneOn 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 seeThe 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 Wolfwaxed 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 cantell, While the Sons of the Wolf were wandering, and knew not where todwell?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 theleft. 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 flankCleft through the God-kin's people; and ne'er again we drankThe wine of war together, or feasted side by sideIn the Feast-hall of the Warrior on the fruit of the battle-tide. For there we turned and sundered; unto the North we wentAnd 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 belowthe left hand of Red-wolf; and men were so keen to hear each wordthat he spake, that there was no cry nor sound of voices when he haddone, only the sound of the rippling banner of the Wolf over theheads of those twain. The Sun-beam bowed her head now, and weptsilently. But the Bride, she had drawn her sword, and held itupright in her hand before her, and the sun smote fire from out ofit. 

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 daysWere nought but the ember of battle ablaze. 

For what man might aid us? what deed and what dayShould 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 shieldThe 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 downthe Dale to the ears of the stay-at-home women and men unmeet to goabroad, and it quickened their blood and the spirits within them asthey heard it, and they smiled and were fain; for they knew thattheir kinsfolk were glad. 

But when there was quiet on the Mote-field again, Folk-might spakeagain 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 wentTo the northward, climbed and stumbled o'er many a stony bent, Till we happed on that isle of the waste-land, and the grass ofShadowy 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 knowHow 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 thehandOf those whom we had vanquished and the feeble of the land;And these were the stone of stumbling, and the burden not to beborne, 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 youalready; and ye shall see for yourselves how little we be now. Is itenough, and will ye have us for friends and brothers? How say ye?'

They answered with shout upon shout, so that all the place and thewild-wood round about was full of the voice of their crying; but whenthe clamour fell, then spake the Alderman and said:

'Friend, and chieftain of the Wolf, thou mayst hear by this shoutingof the people that we have no mind to naysay our yea-say. And knowthat it is not our use and manner to seek the strong for friends, andto thrust aside the weak; but rather to choose for our friends themwho are of like mind to us, men in whom we put our trust. Fromhenceforth then there is brotherhood between us; we are yours, and yeare ours; and let this endure for ever!'

Then were all men full of joy; and now at last the battle seemed athand, and the peace beyond the battle. 

Then men brought the hallowed beasts all garlanded with flowers intothe Doom-ring, and there were they slain and offered up unto theGods, to wit the Warrior, the Earth-god, and the Fathers; andthereafter was solemn feast holden on the Field of the Folk-mote, andall men were fain and merry. Nevertheless, not all men abode therethe feast through; for or ever the afternoon was well worn, were manymen wending along the Portway eastward toward the Upper Dale, eachman in his war-gear and with a scrip hung about him; and these werethey who were bound for the trysting-place and the journey over thewaste. 

So the Folk-mote was sundered; and men went to their houses, andthere abode in peace the time of their summoning; since they wottedwell that the Hosting was afoot. 

But as for the Woodlanders, who were at the Mote-stead with all theirfolk, women, children, and old men, they went not back again toCarlstead; but prayed the neighbours of the Middle Dale to sufferthem to abide there awhile, which they yeasaid with a good will. Sothe Woodlanders tilted themselves in, the more part of them, down inthe meadows below the Mote-stead, along either side of Wildlake'sWay; but their ancient folk, and some of the women and children, theneighbours would have into their houses, and the rest they furnishedwith victual and all that they needed without price, looking uponthem as their very guests. For indeed they deemed that they couldsee that these men would never return to Carlstead, but would abidewith the Men of the Wolf in Silver-dale, once it were won. And thisthey deemed but meet and right, yet were they sorry thereof; for theWoodlanders were well beloved of all the Dalesmen; and now that theyhad gotten to know that they were come of so noble a kindred, theywere 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 thatthere came through the Waste to the rocky edge of Shadowy Vale a bandof some fifteen score of men-at-arms, and with them a multitude ofwomen and children and old men, some afoot, some riding on asses andbullocks; and with them were sumpter asses and neat laden withhousehold goods, and a few goats and kine. And this was the wholefolk of the Woodlanders come to the Hosting in Shadowy Vale and theHome of the Children of the Wolf. Their leaders of the way wereWood-father and Wood-wont and two other carles of Shadowy Vale; andRed-wolf the tall, and Bears-bane and War-grove were the captains andchieftains of their company. 

Thus then they entered into the narrow pass aforesaid, which was theingate to the Vale from the Waste, and little by little its dimnessswallowed up their long line. As they went by the place where thelowering of the rock-wall gave a glimpse of the valley, they lookeddown into it as Face-of-god had done, but much change was there inlittle time. There was the black wall of crags on the other sidestretching down to the ghyll of the great Force; there ran the deepgreen waters of the Shivering Flood; but the grass which Face-of-godhad seen naked of everything but a few kine, thereon now the tents ofmen stood thick. Their hearts swelled within them as they beheld it, but they forebore the shout and the cry till they should be wellwithin the Vale, and so went down silently into the darkness. But astheir 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 ithurriedly; and to them it seemed that many a kiss had been laid onthat dear token since the days of old, and that the hard stone hadbeen worn away by the fervent lips of men, and that the air of themirk place yet quivered with the vows sworn over the sword-blade. 

But down through the dark they went, and so came on to the stonyscree at the end of the pass and into the Vale; and the whole Folksave the three chieftains flowed over it and stood about it down onthe level grass of the Vale. But those three stood yet on the top ofthe scree, bearing the war-signs of the Shaft and the Spear, andbetwixt them the banner of the Wolf and the Sunburst newly displayedto the winds of Shadowy Vale. 

Up and down the Vale they looked, and saw before the tents of men theold familiar banners of Burgdale rising and falling in the eveningwind. But amidst of the Doom-ring was pitched a great banner, whereon was done the image of the Wolf with red gaping jaws on afield of green; and about him stood other banners, to wit, The SilverArm on a red field, the Red Hand on a white field, and on greenfields both, the Golden Bushel and the Ragged Sword. 

All about the plain shone glittering war-gear of men as they movedhither and thither, and a stream of folk began at once to draw towardthe scree to look on those new-comers; and amidst the helmedBurgdalers and the white-coated Shepherds went the tall men of theWolf, bare-headed and unarmed save for their swords, mingled with thefair strong women of the kindred, treading barefoot the soft grass oftheir own Vale. 

Presently there was a great throng gathered round about theWoodlanders, and each man as he joined it waved hand or weapon towardthem, and the joy of their welcome sent a confused clamour throughthe air. Then forth from the throng stepped Folk-might, unarmed savehis sword, and behind him was Face-of-god, in his war-gear save hishelm, hand in hand with the Sun-beam, who was clad in her goodlyflowered green kirtle, her feet naked like her sisters of thekindred. 

Then Folk-might cried aloud: 'A full and free greeting to ourbrothers! Well be ye, O Sons of our Ancient Fathers! And to-day areye the dearer to us because we see that ye have brought us a gift, towit, your wives and children, and your grandsires unmeet for war. Bythis token we see how great is your trust in us, and that it is yourmeaning 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 fromus of old time in that cleft of the mountains, it is our very selvesthat we give unto you; and these are a part of ourselves; how thenshould we leave them behind us? Bear witness, O men of Burgdale andthe Sheepcotes, that we have become one Folk with the men of ShadowyVale, never to be sundered again!'

Then all that multitude shouted with a loud voice; and when the shouthad died away, Folk-might spake again:

'O Warriors of the Sundering, here shall your wives and childrenabide, while we go a little journey to rejoice our hearts with thehard handplay, and take to us that which we have missed: and to-morrow morn is appointed for this same journey, unless ye be overfoot-weary with the ways of the Waste. '

Red-wolf smiled as he answered: 'This ye say in jest, brother; forye may see that our day's journey hath not been over-much for our oldmen; how then should it weary those who may yet bear sword? We areready 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 tothe Hall of the Wolf; wherein, after ye have eaten and drunken, shallwe take counsel with our brethren of Burgdale and the Sheepcotes, sothat 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, andheld out both her palms to the Woodland-folk, and spake in a voicethat was heard afar, though it were a woman's, so clear and sweet itwas; and she said:

'O Warriors of the Sundering, ye who be not needed in the Hall, andye our sisters with your little ones and your fathers, come now to usand down to the tents which we have arrayed for you, and there thinkfor a little that we are all at our very home that we long for andhave 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 hischeek and led him away, and the coming rest seemed sweet to him. Andthen came other women of the Vale, kind and fair and smiling, and ledaway, some an old mother of the Wood-landers, some a young wife, somea pair of lads; and not a few forsooth kissed and embraced the starkwarriors, and went away with them toward the tents, which stood alongthe side of the Shivering Flood where it was at its quietest; forthere was the grass the softest and most abundant. There on thegreen grass were tables arrayed, and lamps were hung above them onspears, to be litten when the daylight should fail. And the best ofthe victual which the Vale could give was spread on the boards, alongwith wine and dainties, bought in Silver-dale, or on the edges of theWestland with sword-strokes and arrow-flight. 

There then they feasted and were merry; and the Sun-beam and Bow-mayand the other women of the Vale served them at table, and were veryblithe with them, caressing them with soft words, and with clippingand kissing, as folk who were grown exceeding dear to them; so thatthat eve of battle was softer and sweeter to them than any hour oftheir life. With these feasters were God-swain and Spear-fist of thedelivered 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 allcontent, nor lacked folk of the Vale to serve them. Amongst the menof the Face were the ten delivered thralls who had heart to meettheir masters in arms: seven of them were of Rose-dale and three ofSilver-dale. 

The Bride was with her kindred of the Steer, with whom were many menof Shadowy Vale, and she served her friends and fellows clad in herwar-gear, save helm and hauberk, bearing herself as one who isserving dear guests. And men equalled her for her beauty to the Godsof the High Place and the Choosers of the Slain; and they who had notbeheld her before marvelled at her, and her loveliness held all men'shearts in a net of desire, so that they forebore their meat to gazeupon her; and if perchance her hand touched some young man, or hercheek or sweet-breathed mouth came nigh to his face, he becamebewildered and wist not where he was, nor what to do. Yet was she aslowly and simple of speech and demeanour as if she were a gooseherdof fourteen winters. 

In the Hall was a goodly company, and all the leaders of the Folkwere therein, and Folk-might and the War-leader sitting in the midstof those stone seats on the days. There then they agreed on thewhole ordering of the battle and the wending of the host, as shall betold later on; and this matter was long a-doing, and when it wasdone, 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-cladand without a weapon, left the Hall and walked briskly toward thenether end of the Vale. He passed by all the tents, the last whereofwere of the House of the Steer, and came to a place where was a greatrock rising straight up from the plain like sheaves of black stavesstanding close together; and it was called Staff-stone, and tales ofthe elves had been told concerning it, so that Stone-face had beheldit gladly the day before. 

The moon was just shining into Shadowy Vale, and the grass was brightwheresoever the shadows of the high cliffs were not, and the face ofStaff-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 drewnigher he saw that it was a woman, and knew her for the Bride; for hehad prayed her to abide him there that night, because it was nigh tothe tents of the House of the Steer; and his heart was glad as hedrew nigh to her. 

She sat quietly on a fragment of the black rock, clad as she had beenall day, in her glittering kirtle, but without hauberk or helm, awreath of wind-flowers about her head, her feet crossed over eachother, her hands laid palm uppermost in her lap. She moved not as hedrew nigh, but said in a gentle voice when he was close to her:

'Chief of the Wolf, great warrior, thou wouldest speak with me; andgood 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 sleepto-night, since there is work to hand to-morrow. Now since, as thousayest, O fairest of women, we may never meet again alive, I ask theenow at this hour, when we both live and are near to one another, tosuffer 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 thekindreds 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? Whatmore 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 whocan be called my friends--and thou art much my friend. '

He took her hand and kissed it, and held it thereafter; nor did shedraw it away. The moon shone brightly on them; but by its light hecould not see if she reddened, but he deemed that her face wastroubled. Then he said: 'It were better for me if I might kiss thyface, and take thee in mine arms. '

Then said she: 'This only shall a man do with me when I long to dothe like with him. And since thou art so much my friend, I will tellthee that as for this longing, I have it not. Bethink thee what alittle while it is since the lack of another man's love grieved mesorely. '

'The time is short, ' said Folk-might, 'if we tell up the hoursthereof; but in that short space have a many things betid. '

She said: 'Dost thou know, canst thou guess, how sorely ashamed Iwent amongst my people? I durst look no man in the face for theaching 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 alittle while ago, when thou didst tell me of thy grief. '

She said: 'True it is; and thou wert kind to me. Thou didst becomea 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 notchoose? Shall there be no forgiveness for me then?'

He answered nothing; and still he held her hand that strove not to begone 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 thineheart when I say that I desire thee sorely, as now I say it; or whenI kiss thine hand, as now I kiss it; or when I pray thee to suffer meto cast mine arms about thee and kiss thy face, as now I pray it: ifthou 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 sayfarewell to thee till the battle is over. Canst thou say this out ofthe 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 thenarose 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 thenkissed her lips and her face again and again, and she strove not withhim. 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 wespeak more thereof. '

So he took her hand and led her on toward the tents of the Steer, andfor a while he spake nought; for he doubted himself, what he shouldsay; but at last he spake:

'Now is this better for me than if it had not been, whether I live orwhether I die. Yet thou hast not said that thou lovest me anddesirest me. '

'Wilt thou compel me?' she said. 'To-night I may not say it. Whoshall say what words my lips shall fashion when we stand togethervictorious in Silver-dale; then indeed may the time seem long fromnow. '

He said: 'Yea, true is that; yet once again I say that so measuredlong and long is the time since first I saw thee in Burgdale beforethou knewest me. Yet now I will not bicker with thee, for be surethat I am glad at heart. And lo you! our feet have brought us to thetents 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 towardhim and laid her hand on his neck, and drew his head adown to her andkissed his cheek, and therewith swiftly and lightly departed fromhim. 

Now the night wore and the morning came; and Face-of-god was abroadvery early in the morning, as his custom was; and he washed the nightfrom off him in the Carles' Bath of the Shivering Flood, and thenwent round through the encampment of the host, and saw none stirringsave here and there the last watchmen of the night. He spake withone or two of these, and then went up to the head of the Vale, wherewas the pass that led to Silver-dale; and there he saw the watch, andspake with them, and they told him that none had as yet come forthfrom the pass, and he bade them to blow the horn of warning to rouseup the Host as soon as the messengers came thence. For forerunnershad been sent up the pass, and had been set to hold watch at diversplaces therein to pass on the word from place to place. 

Thence went Face-of-god back toward the Hall; but when he was yetsome way from it, he saw a slender glittering warrior come forth fromthe door thereof, who stood for a moment looking round about, andthen came lightly and swiftly toward him; and lo! it was the Sun-beam, with a long hauberk over her kirtle falling below her knees, ahelm 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 (forhe was bare-headed), and said to him, smiling:

'Gold-mane! thou badest me bear arms, and Folk-might also constrainedme thereto. Lo thou!'

Said Face-of-god: 'Folk-might is wise then, even as I am; andforsooth as thou art. For bethink thee if the bow drawn at a ventureshould speed the eyeless shaft against thy breast, and send me fortha wanderer from my Folk! For how could I bear the sight of the fairDale, and no hope to see thee again therein?'

She said: 'The heart is light within me to-day. Deemest thou thatthis is strange? Or dost thou call to mind that which thou spakestthe other day, that it was of no avail to stand in the Doom-ring ofthe Folk and bear witness against ourselves? This will I not. Thisis no light-mindedness that thou beholdest in me, but the valiancythat the Fathers have set in mine heart. Deem not, O Gold-mane, fearnot, 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, mydear; and yet I long for it as if it were, so high as the Fathershave raised me up this morn above fear and sadness. '

He said nought, but drew her to him, and wonder so moved him, that helooked long and closely at her face before he kissed her; andforsooth he could find no blemish in it: it was as if it were butnew come from the smithy of the Gods, and exceeding longing took holdof him. But even as their lips met, from the head of the Vale camethe voice of the great horn; and it was answered straightway by thewatchers all down the tents; and presently arose the shouts of menand the clash of weapons as folk armed themselves, and laughtertherewith, for most men were battle-merry, and the cries of womenshrilly-clear as they hastened about, busy over the morning mealbefore the departure of the Host. But Face-of-god said softly, stillcaressing the Sun-beam, and she him:

'Thus then we depart from this Valley of the Shadows, but as thousaidst when first we met therein, there shall be no sundering of theeand 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 theyate a morsel, and thereafter Face-of-god tarried not, but busiedhimself along with Folk-might and the other chieftains in arrayingthe Host for departure. 

CHAPTER XLI. THE HOST DEPARTETH FROM SHADOWY VALE: THE FIRST DAY'SJOURNEY

It was about three hours before noon that the Host began to enterinto the pass out of Shadowy Vale by the river-side; and the womenand children, and men unfightworthy, stood on the higher ground atthe foot of the cliffs to see the Host wend on the way. Of these amany were of the Woodlanders, who were now one folk with them ofShadowy Vale. And all these had chosen to abide tidings in the Vale, deeming that there was little danger therein, since that lastslaughter 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 tenmen-at-arms to guard them by the way and to eke out the warders ofthe Burg. 

Now the fighting-men of Shadowy Vale were two long hundreds lackingfive; of whom two score and ten were women, and three score and tenlads under twenty winters; but the women, though you might scarce seefairer of face and body, were doughty in arms, all good shooters inthe bow; and the swains were eager and light-foot, cragsmen of thebest, wont to scaling the cliffs of the Vale in search of the nestsof gerfalcons and such-like fowl, and swimming the strong streams ofthe Shivering Flood; tough bodies and wiry, stronger than most grownmen, 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 twoscore of the ripe Warriors of the Wolf. Then came of the kindreds ofBurgdale, the Men of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull; then theMen 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 wentanother two score of the dwellers in Shadowy Vale, and the rest werescattered up and down the bands of the Host to guide them into thebest paths and to make the way easier to them. Face-of-god wassundered from his kindred, and went along with Folk-might in theforefront of the Host, while his father the Alderman went as a simpleman-at-arms with his House in the rearward. The Sun-beam followedher brother and Face-of-god amidst the Warriors of the Wolf, and withher were Bow-may clad in the Alderman's gift, and Wood-father and hischildren. 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, shewent with her kindred in all her war-gear; and the morning sun shonein the gems of her apparel, and her jewelled feet fell like flowersupon the deep grass of the upper Vale, and shone strange and brightamongst the black stones of the pass. She bore a quiver at her backand a shining yew bow in her hand, and went amongst the bowmen, forshe was a very deft archer. 

So fared they into the pass, leaving peace behind them, with alltheir banners displayed, and the banner of the Red-mouthed Wolf wentwith the Wolf and the Sun-burst in the forefront of their battle nextafter the two captains. 

As for their road, the grassy space between the rock-wall and thewater was wide and smooth at first, and the cliffs rose up likebundles of spear-shafts high and clear from the green grass with noconfused litter of fallen stones; so that the men strode on briskly, their hearts high-raised and full of hope. And as they went, thesweetness of song stirred in their souls, and at last Bow-may fell tosinging 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 thesong at the ending, and the sound of their melody went down the waterand reached the ears of those that were entering the pass, and ofthose who were abiding till the way should be clear of them: andthis 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 oneagerly, and as swiftly as the pass would have them fare. But so itwas, that when the rearward of the Host was entering the first of thepass, and was going on the wide smooth sward, the vanward was gottento where there was but a narrow space clear betwixt water and cliff;for otherwhere was a litter of great rocks and small, hard to bethreaded even by those who knew the passes well; so that men had totread along the very verge of the Shivering Flood, and wary must theybe, for the water ran swift and deep betwixt banks of sheer rock halfa fathom below their very foot-soles, which had but bare space to goon 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 itwas toilsome enough, since for some way yet there was a drift ofstones to cumber their feet, some big and some little, and some verybig. After a while the way grew better, though here and there, wherethe cliffs lowered, were wide screes of loose stones that they mustneeds climb up and down. Thereafter for a space was there an end ofthe stony cumber, but the way betwixt the river and the cliffsnarrowed again, and the black crags grew higher, and at last soexceeding high, and the way so narrow, that the sky overhead was tothem as though they were at the bottom of a well, and men deemed thatthence they could see the stars at noontide. For some time withalhad the way been mounting up and up, though the cliffs grew higherover it; till at last they were but going on a narrow shelf, theShivering Flood swirling and rattling far below them betwixt sheerrock-walls grown exceeding high; and above them the cliffs going uptowards the heavens as black as a moonless starless night of winter. And as the flood thundered below, so above them roared the ceaselessthunder of the wind of the pass, that blew exceeding fierce down thatstrait place; so that the skirts of their garments were wrapped abouttheir knees by it, and their feet were well-nigh stayed at whiles asthey breasted the push thereof. 

But as they mounted higher and higher yet, the noise of the watersswelled into a huge roar that drowned the bellowing of the prisonedwind, and down the pass came drifting a fine rain that fell not fromthe sky, for between the clouds of that drift could folk see theheavens bright and blue above them. This rain was but the spray ofthe great force up to whose steps they were climbing. 

Now the way got rougher as they mounted; but this toil was caused bytheir gain; for the rock-wall, which thrust out a buttress there asif it would have gone to the very edge of the gap where-through theflood ran, and so have cut the way off utterly, was here somewhatbroken down, and its stones scattered down the steep bent, so thatthere was a passage, though a toilsome one. 

Thus then through the wind-borne drift of the great force, throughwhich men could see the white waters tossing down below, amidst theclattering thunder of the Shivering Flood and the rumble of the windof the gap, that tore through their garments and hair as if it wouldrend all to rags and bear it away, the banners of the Wolf won theirway to the crest of the midmost height of the pass, and the long lineof the Host came clambering after them; and each band of warriors asit reached the top cast an unheard shout from amidst the tangled furyof 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 attheir backs, till the rainbows lay bright across it; and the sunshinelay wide over a little valley that sloped somewhat steeply to thewest right up from the edge of the river; and beyond these westernslopes could men see a low peak spreading down on all sides to theplain, till it was like to a bossed shield, and the name of it wasShield-broad. Dark grey was the valley everywhere, save that by theside of the water was a space of bright green-sward hedged abouttoward the mountain by a wall of rocks tossed up into wild shapes ofspires and jagged points. The river itself was spread out wide andshallow, and went rattling about great grey rocks scattered here andthere amidst it, till it gathered itself together to tumble headlongover three slant steps into the mighty gap below. 

From the height in the pass those grey slopes seemed easy totraverse; but the warriors of the Wolf knew that it was farotherwise, for they were but the molten rock-sea that in time longpast had flowed forth from Shield-broad and filled up the wholevalley endlong and overthwart, cooling as it flowed, and the tumbledhedge of rock round about the green plain by the river was where thesaid rock-sea had been stayed by meeting with soft ground, and hadheaped itself up round about the green-sward. And that great rock-flood as it cooled split in divers fashions; and the rain and weatherhad been busy on it for ages, so that it was worn into a maze ofnarrow paths, most of which, after a little, brought the wayfarer toa dead stop, or else led him back again to the place whence he hadstarted; so that only those who knew the passes throughly couldthread that maze without immeasurable labour. 

Now when the men of the Host looked from the high place whereon theystood toward the green plain by the river, they saw on the top ofthat rock-wall a red pennon waving on a spear, and beside it three orfour weaponed men gleaming bright in the evening sun; and they wavedtheir swords to the Host, and made lightning of the sunbeams, and themen of the Host waved swords to them in turn. For these were theoutguards of the Host; and the place whereon they were was at whilesdwelt in by those who would drive the spoil in Silver-dale, andmidmost of the green-sward was a booth builded of rough stones andturf, a refuge for a score of men in rough weather. 

So the men of the vanward gat them down the hill, and made the bestof their way toward the grassy plain through that rocky maze whichhad once been as a lake of molten glass; and as short as the waylooked from above, it was two hours or ever they came out of it on tothe smooth turf, and it was moonlight and night ere the House of theFace had gotten on to the green-sward. 

There then the Host abode for that night, and after they had eatenlay down on the green grass and slept as they might. Bow-may wouldhave brought the Sun-beam into the booth with some others of thewomen, but she would not enter it, because she deemed that otherwisethe Bride would abide without; and the Bride, when she came up, alongwith the House of the Steer, beheld the Sun-beam, that Wood-father'schildren had made a lair for her without like a hare's form; andforsooth many a time had she lain under the naked heaven in ShadowyVale and the waste about it, even as the Bride had in the meadows ofBurgdale. So when the Bride was bidden thereto, she went meekly intothe 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 captainsafoot, and they went from band to band to see that all was ready, andall men were astir betimes, and by the time that the sun smote theeastern side of Shield-broad ruddy, they had broken their fast andwere dight for departure. Then the horns blew up beside the banners, and rejoiced the hearts of men. But by the command of the captainsthis was the last time that they should sound till they blew foronset in Silver-dale, because now would they be drawing nigher andnigher to the foemen, and they wotted not but that wandering bands ofthem 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 vanwardfell 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 sameorder as yesterday; but on this day the Sun-beam would bear herhauberk, and had a sword girt to her side, and her heart was high andher speech merry. 

When they left the Dale under Shield-broad the way was easy and widefor a good way, the river flowing betwixt low banks, and the passbeing more like a string of little valleys than a mere gap, as it hadbeen on the other side of the Dale. But when one third of the daywas past, the way began to narrow on them again, and to rise uplittle 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 buta 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 overa fearful stair, through a gap where there was no path between thecliffs 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 thecliffs thrust itself into the way, coming well-nigh down to thewater, just at the corner where the river turned eastward, and theygot 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: alittle water ran through it, mostly filling up the floor of it fromside to side; but it was but shallow. This was now the battle-roadof the Host, and the vanward entered it at once, turning their backsupon the Shivering Flood. 

Full toilsome and dreary was that strait way; often great stones hungabove their heads, bridging the gap and hiding the sky from them; norwas there any path for them save the stream itself; so that whileswere they wading its waters to the knee or higher, and whiles werethey striding from stone to stone amidst the rattle of the waters, and whiles were they stepping warily along the ledges of rock abovethe deeper pools, and in all wise labouring in overcoming the ruggedroad amidst the twilight of the gap. 

Thus they toiled till the afternoon was well worn, and so at lastthey came to where the rock-wall was somewhat broken down on thenorth side, and great rocks had fallen across the gap, and dammed upthe waters, which fell scantily over the dam from stone to stone intoa pool at the bottom of it. Up this breach, then, below the forcethey 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 greatshoulder of the heath sloping down from the north, and littered overwith big stones, borne thither belike by some ice-river of theearlier days; and one great rock was in special as great as the hallof 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 faceof the heath, and men were exceeding joyous that they had come so farwithout mishap. Therewith came weaponed men out from under House-stone, and they came toward the men of the vanward, and they were ahalf-score of the forerunners of the Wolf; therefore Folk-might andFace-of-god fell at once into speech with them, and had theirtidings; and when they had heard them, they saw nought to hinder thehost from going on their road to Silver-dale forthright; and therewere still three hours of daylight before them. So the vanward ofthe host tarried not, and the captains left word with the men fromunder House-stone that the rest of the Host should fare on after themspeedily, and that they should give this word to each company, as mencame 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 wherethe ground fell steadily toward the north, and hereabout thescattered stones ceased, and on the other side of the crest the heathbegan to be soft and boggy, and at last so soft, that if they had notbeen wisely led, they had been bemired oftentimes. At last they cameto where the flows that trickled through the mires drew together intoa stream, so that men could see it running; and thereon some of theWoodlanders 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 tomeet any; because the Dusky Men were not great hunters for the morepart, except it were of men, and especially of women; and, moreover, these hill-slopes of the mountain-necks led no-whither and wereutterly waste and dreary, and there was nought to be seen there butsnipes and bitterns and whimbrel and plover, and here and there ahill-fox, or the great erne hanging over the heath on his way to themountain. 

When sunset came, they were getting clear of the miry ground, and thestream which they had come across amidst of the mires had got clearerand greater, and rattled down between wide stony sides over theheath; and here and there it deepened as it cleft its way throughlittle knolls that rose out of the face of the mountain-neck. As theHost climbed one of these and was come to its topmost (it was lowenough 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. Thenhe called to mind what he had seen from the Burg of the Runaways, andhe took Folk-might by the arm, and pointed toward those far-offmountains. 

'Yea, ' said Folk-might, 'so it is, War-leader. Silver-dale liethbetween us and yonder blue ridges, and it is far nigher to us than tothem. '

But the Sun-beam came close to those twain, and took Face-of-god bythe hand and said: 'O Gold-mane, dost thou see?' and he turned aboutand 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, forlife or death. '

But the whole vanward as they came up stayed to behold the sight ofthe mountains on the other side of Silver-dale, and the banners ofthe Folk hung over their heads, moving but little in the soft air ofthe 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 notyet risen. Now was the ground firm and the grass sweet and flowery, and wind-worn bushes were scattered round about them, as they beganto go down into the ghyll that cleft the wall of Silver-dale, and thenight-wind blew in their faces from the very Dale and place of theBattle to be. The path down was steep at first, but the ghyll waswide, and the sides of it no longer straight walls, as in the gaps oftheir earlier journey, but broken, sloping back, and (as they mightsee on the morrow) partly of big stones and shaly grit, partly grownover with bushes and rough grass, with here and there a little streamtrickling down their sides. As they went, the ghyll widened out, till at last they were in a valley going down to the plain, in placessteep, in places flat and smooth, the stream ever rattling down themidst of it, and they on the west side thereof. The vale was wellgrassed, and oak-trees and ash and holly and hazel grew here andthere about it; and at last the Host had before it a wood whichfilled the vale from side to side, not much tangled with undergrowth, and quite clear of it nigh to the stream-side. Thereinto the vanwardentered, but went no long way ere the leaders called a halt and badepitch 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 mostlyof men come into a land of which they know nought at all, anonslaught by night is perilous: yea, and our foes should be over-much scattered, and we should have to wander about seeking them. Letus rather abide in the wood of Wood-dale till the morning, and thendisplay our banners on the hill-side above Silver-dale, so that theymay gather together to fall upon us: in no case shall they keep usout of the Dale. '

There then they stayed, and as each company came up to the wood, theywere marshalled into their due places, so that they might set thebattle in array on the edge of Silver-dale, CHAPTER XLIII. FACE-OF-GOD LOOKETH ON SILVER-DALE: THE BOWMEN'SBATTLE

There then they rested, as folk wearied with the toilsome journey, when they had set sure watches round about their campment; and theyate quietly what meat they had with them, and so gat them to sleep inthe wood on the eve of battle. 

But not all slept; for the two captains went about amongst thecompanies, Folk-might to the east, Face-of-god to the west, to lookto 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 theHost, and watched and waked abiding his returning footsteps. 

The night was well worn by then he came back to his place in thevanward, and on his way back he passed through the folk of the Steerlaid along on the grass, all save those of the watch, and the lightof the moon high aloft was mingled with the light of the earliestdawn; and as it happed he looked down, and lo! close to his feet theface of the Bride as she lay beside her grand-sire, her head pillowedon a bundle of bracken. She was sleeping soundly like a child whohas been playing all day, and whose sleep has come to him unsoughtand happily. Her hands were laid together by her side; her cheek wasas fair and clear as it was wont to be at her best; her face lookedcalm and happy, and a lock of her dark-red hair strayed from heruncovered head over her breast and lay across her wrists, sopeacefully 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 rosestraightway to her feet from beside Bow-may, who lay fast asleep, andshe held out her hands to him; and he took them and kissed them, andhe cast his arms about her and kissed her mouth and her face, and shehis in likewise; and she said:

'O Gold-mane, if this were but the morrow of to-morrow! Yet shallall be well; shall it not?'

Her voice was low, but it waked Bow-may, who sat up at once broadawake, after the manner of a hunter of the waste ever ready for thenext thing to betide, and moreover the Sun-beam had been in herthoughts these two days, and she feared for her, lest she should beslain or maimed. Now she smiled on the Sun-beam and said:

'What is it? Does thy mind forebode evil? That needeth not. I tellthee 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 ahalf-score in company, and yet am I whole to-day. '

'Yea, sister, ' said Face-of-god, 'but in past times ye did your deedand then fled away; but now we come to abide here, and this night isthe last of lurking. '

'Ah, ' she said, 'a little way from this I saw such things that we hadgood will to abide here longer, few as we were, but that we feared tobe taken alive. '

'What things were these?' said Face-of-god. 

'Nay, ' she said, 'I will not tell thee now; but mayhap in the lightedwinter feast-hall, when the kindred are so nigh us and about us thatthey seem to us as if they were all the world, I may tell it thee; ormayhap 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 hesaid:

'Nay, not so much; all is well-nigh done; in an hour it will be broadday, and two hours thereafter shall the Banner be displayed on theedge 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 betheirs. 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 hastdeemed 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 athand, and we may not laugh that away; and therefore I bid theeremember, Gold-mane, how thou didst promise to kiss me once more onthe verge of deadly battle. '

Therewith she stood up before him, and he tarried not, but kind andsmiling took her face between his two hands and kissed her lips, andshe cast her arms about him and kissed him, and then sank down on thegrass again, and turned from him, and laid her face amongst the grassand the bracken, and they could see that she was weeping, and herbody was shaken with sobs. But the Sun-beam knelt down to her, andcaressed her with her hand, and spake kind words to her softly, whileFace-of-god went his ways to meet Folk-might. 

Now was the dawn fading into full daylight; and between dawn andsunrise were all men stirring; for the watch had waked the hundred-leaders, and they the leaders of scores and half-scores, and they thewhole 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 whohad stolen up from the Dale to set gins for hares, and now in theearly morning they brought him to the War-leader. He was even such aman as those with whom Face-of-god had fallen in before, neitherbetter nor worse than most of them: he was sore afraid at first, butby then he was come to the captains he understood that he hadhappened upon friends; but he was dull of comprehension and slow ofspeech. Albeit Folk-might gathered from him that the Dusky Men hadsome inkling of the onslaught; for he said that they had beengathering together in the marketplace of Silver-stead, and would doso again soon. Moreover, the captains deemed from his speech thatthose new tribes had come to hand sooner than was looked for, andwere even now in the Dale. Folk-might smiled as one who is not bestpleased when he heard these tidings; but Face-of-god was glad to hearthereof; for what he loathed most was that the war should drag out inhunting of scattered bands of the foe. Herewith came Dallach to themas they talked (for Face-of-god had sent for him), and he fell toquestioning the man further; by whose answers it seemed that many menalso had come into the Dale from Rose-dale, so that they of thekindreds were like to have their hands full. Lastly Dallach drewfrom 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 theStead, which was right great, and about it were the biggest of thehouses wherein the men of the kindred had once dwelt. 

So when they had made an end of questioning the thrall, and had givenhim meat and drink, they asked him if he would take weapons in hishand and lead them on the ways into the Dale, bidding him look aboutthe wood and note how great and mighty an host they were. And thecarle yeasaid this, after staring about him a while, and they gavehim 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 aman and a woman dead and stark naked hanging to the boughs of a greatoak-tree deep in the wood. This men knew for some vengeance of theDusky Men, for it was clear to see that these poor people had beensorely tormented before they were slain. Also the same watch hadstumbled on the dead body of an old woman, clad in rags, lyingamongst the rank grass about a little flow; she was exceeding leanand hunger-starved, and in her hand was a frog which she had halfeaten. And Dallach, when he heard of this, said that it was the wontof the Dusky Men to slay their thralls when they were past work, orto drive them into the wilderness to die. 

Lastly came a watch from the men of the Face, having with them twomore thralls, lusty young men; these they had come upon in company oftheir master, who had brought them up into the wood to shoot him abuck, and therefore they bare bows and arrows. The watch had slainthe master straightway while the thralls stood looking on. They weremuch afraid of the weaponed men, but answered to the questioning muchreadier than the first man; for they were household thralls, andbetter 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 ofthe Dusky Men should be holden in the market-place that forenoon, andthat most of the warriors should be there, both the new-comers andthe Rose-dale lords, and that without doubt they should be underarms. 

To these men also they gave a good sword and a helm each, and badethem be brisk with their bows, and they said yea to marching with theHost; and indeed they feared nothing so much as being left behind;for if they fell into the hands of the Dusky Men, and their mastermissing, they should first be questioned with torments, and thenslain in the evillest manner. 

Now whereas things had thus betid, and that they knew thus much oftheir foemen, Face-of-god called all the chieftains together, andthey sat on the green grass and held counsel amongst them, and to oneand all it seemed good that they should suffer the Dusky Men togather together before they meddled with them, and then fall uponthem in such order and such time as should seem good to the captainswatching how things went; and this would be easy, whereas they wereall lying in the wood in the same order as they would stand inbattle-array if they were all drawn up together on the brow of thehill. Albeit Face-of-god deemed it good, after he had heard all thatthey who had been in the Stead could tell him thereof, that theShepherd-Folk, who were more than three long hundreds, and they ofthe Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull, four hundreds in all, shouldtake their places eastward of the Woodlanders who had led thevanward. 

Straightway the word was borne to these men, and the shift was made:so that presently the Woodlanders were amidmost of the Host, and hadwith them on their right hands the Men of the Steer, the Bridge, andthe Bull, and beyond them the Shepherd-Folk. But on their left handlay the Men of the Vine, then they of the Sickle, and lastly the Menof the Face, and these three kindreds were over five hundreds ofwarriors: as for the Men of the Wolf, they abode at first with thosecompanies which they had led through the wastes, though this waschanged afterwards. 

All this being done, Face-of-god gave out that all men should breaktheir fast in peace and leisure; and while men were at their meat, Folk-might spake to Face-of-god and said: 'Come, brother, for Iwould 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 thesky shine white between the tree-boles, and in a little while theywere come well-nigh out of the thicket, and then they went warily;for before them was nought but the slopes of Wood-dale, going downsteeply into Silver-dale, with nought to hinder the sight of it, savehere and there bushes or scattered trees; and so fair and lovely itwas that Face-of-god could scarce forbear to cry out. He saw that itwas only at the upper or eastern end, where the mountains of theWaste went round about it, that the Dale was narrow; it soon widenedout toward the west, and for the most part was encompassed by no suchstraight-sided a wall as was Burgdale, but by sloping hills andbents, mostly indeed somewhat higher and steeper than the passwherein they were, but such as men could well climb if they had amind to, and there were any end to their journey. The Dale went duewest a good way, and then winded about to the southwest, and so washidden 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, butrose in knolls and little hills here and there. A river greater thanthe Weltering Water wound about amongst the said mounds; and alongthe side of it out in the open dale were many goodly houses andhomesteads of stone. The knolls were mostly covered over with vines, and there were goodly and great trees in groves and clumps, chieflyoak and sweet chestnut and linden; many were the orchards, now inblossom, about the homesteads; the pastures of the neat and horsesspread out bright green up from the water-side, and deeper greenshowed the acres of the wheat on the lower slopes of the knolls, andin 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; butFolk-might pointed to where on the western side a new white wall wasrising, and on which, young as the day yet was, men were busy layingthe stones and spreading the mortar. Fair seemed that town to Face-of-god: the houses were all builded of stone, and some of thebiggest were roofed with lead, which also as well as silver was dugout of the mountains at the eastern end of the Dale. The market-place was clear to see from where they stood, though there werehouses on all sides of it, so wide it was. From their standing-placeit was but three furlongs to this heart of Silver-dale; and Face-of-god could see brightly-clad men moving about in it already. Highabove their heads he beheld two great clots of scarlet and yellowraised on poles and pitched in front of a great stone-built hallroofed 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 itssides somewhat of white stone, and amidmost of the whole Place agreat stack of faggot-wood built up four-square. Those red andyellow things on the poles he deemed would be the banners of themurder-carles; and Folk-might told him that even so it was, and thatthey were but big bunches of strips of woollen cloth, much like togreat ragmops, save that the rags were larger and longer: no othertoken of war, said Folk-might, did those folk carry, save acrookbladed sword, smeared with man's blood, and bigger than any manmight wield in battle. 

'Art thou far-seeing, War-leader?' quoth he. 'What canst thou see inthe market-place?'

Said Face-of-god: 'Far-seeing am I above most men, and I see in thePlace a man in scarlet standing by the banner, which is pitched infront of the great stone hall, near to the mound with the white stoneon it; and meseemeth he beareth a great horn in his hand. '

Said Folk-might: 'Yea, and that stone hall was our Mote-house whenwe were lords of the Dale, and thence it was that they who are nowthralls of the Dusky Men sent to them their message and token ofyielding. 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. Andnow 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 tothe altar-mound, and meseemeth he is setting the little end of thehorn to his mouth. '

'Hearken then!' said Folk-might. And in a moment came the hoarsetuneless sound of the horn down the wind towards them; and Folk-mightsaid:

'I deem I should know what that blast meaneth; and now is it timethat the Host drew nigher to set them in array behind these verytrees. But if ye will, War-leader, we will abide here and watch theways of the foemen, and send Dallach with the word to the Host; alsoI would have thee suffer me to bid hither at once two score and tenof 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 whatis 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 thenstayed; and Folk-might said:

'Lo you! they come flockmeal to the Mote-stead; the Place will befilled ere long. '

Said Face-of-god: 'Will they make offerings to their god at thehallowing in of their Folk-mote? Where then are the slaughter-beasts?'

'They shall not long be lacking, ' said Folk-might. 'See you it isgetting thronged about the altar and the Mote-house. '

Now there were four ways into the Market-place of Silver-stead turnedtoward the four airts, and the midmost of the kindreds' battle lookedright down the southern one, which went up to the wood, but stoppedthere in a mere woodland path, and the more part of the town laynorth and west of this way, albeit there was a way from the eastalso. But the hill-side just below the two captains lay two furlongswest of this southern way; and it went down softly till it was gottenquite near to the backs of the houses on the south side of theMarket-place, and was sprinkled scantly with bushes and trees asaforesaid; but at last were there more bushes, which well-nigh made ahedge across it, reaching from the side of the southern way; and afoot or two beyond these bushes the ground fell by a steep and brokenbent down to the level of the Market-place, and betwixt that fringeof bushes and the backs of the houses on the south side of the Placewas less it maybe than a full furlong: but the southern roadaforesaid went down softly into the Market-place, since it had beenfashioned 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 fromthe north, and they came into the market-place with spears and otherweapons tossing in the air, and amidst of these men, who seemed to beall of the warriors, they saw as they drew nigher some two score andten of men clad in long raiment of yellow and scarlet, with tallspiring hats of strange fashion on their heads, and in their handslong staves with great blades like scythes done on to them; andagain, in the midst of these yellow and red glaive-bearers, in thevery heart of the throng were some score of naked folk, they deemedboth men and women, but were not sure, so close was the throng; norcould they see if they were utterly naked. 

'Lo you, brother!' quoth Folk-might, 'said I not that the beasts forthe hewing should not tarry? Yonder naked folk are even they: andye may well deem that they are the thralls of the Dusky Men; andmeseemeth by the whiteness of their skins they be of the best ofthem. For these felons, it is like, look to winning great plenty ofthralls in Burgdale, and so set the less store on them they have, andmay expend them freely. '

As he spake they heard the sound of men marching in the wood behindthem, 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 theWoodlanders and the Wolf--huntsmen, cragsmen, and scourers of theWaste; men who could shoot the chaffinch on the twig a hundred yardsaloof; who could make a hiding-place of the bennets of the waysidegrass, or the stem of the slender birch-tree. With these must needsbe Bow-may, who was the closest shooter of all the kindreds. 

So then Wood-wise told the War-leader that Dallach had given the wordto the Host, and that all men were astir and would be there presentlyin their ordered companies; and Face-of-god spake to Folk-might, andsaid: 'Chief of the Wolf, wilt thou not give command to thesebowmen, and set them to the work; for thou wottest thereof. '

'Yea, that will I, ' said Folk-might, and turned to Wood-wise, andsaid: '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 yewary, nor let the curse of the Wolf and the Face lie on yourslothfulness. '

Wood-wise did but nod his head and lift his hand to his fellows, whoset off after him down the slope without more tarrying. They wentvery warily, as if they were hunting a quarry which would flee fromthem; and they crept amongst the grass and stones from bush to bushlike serpents, and so, unseen by the Dusky Men, who indeed werebusied over their own matters, they came to the fringe of bushesabove the broken ground aforesaid, and there they took their stand, and before them below those steep banks was but the space at the backof the houses. As to the houses, as aforesaid, they were not so highas elsewhere about the Market-place; and at the end of a long lowhall there was a gap between its gable and the next house, wherebythey had a clear sight of the Place about the god's altar and thebanners, and the great hall of Silver-dale, with the double stairthat went up to the door thereof. 

There then they made them ready, and Wood-wise set men to watch thatnone should come sidelong on them unawares; their bows were bent andtheir quivers open, and they were eager for the fray. 

Thus they beheld the Market-place from their cover, and saw thatthose folk who were to be hewn to the god were now standing facingthe altar in a half-ring, and behind them in another half-ring theglaive-bearers who had brought them thither stood glaive in handready to hew them down when the token should be given; and these wereindeed the priests of the god. 

There was clear space round about these poor slaughter-thralls, sothat the bowmen could see them well, and they told up a score ofthem, half men, half women, and they were all stark naked save forwreaths of flowers about their middles and their necks; and they hadshackles of lead about their wrists; which same lead should be takenout of the fire wherein they should be burned, and from the shape itshould take after it had passed through the fire would the priestsforetell the luck of the deed to be done. 

It was clear to be seen from thence that Folk-might was right when hesaid that these slaughter-thralls were of the best of the house-thralls and bed-mates of the Dusky Men, and that these felons wereopen-handed to their god, and would not cheat him, or withhold fromhim the best and most delicate of all they had. 

Now spake Wood-wise to those about him: 'It is sure that Folk-mightwould have us give these poor thralls a chance, and that we mustloose upon the felons who would hew them down; and if we are to comeback again, we can go no nigher. What sayest thou, Bow-may? Is itnigh enough? Can aught be done?'

'Yea, yea, ' she said, 'nigh enough it is; but let Gold-ring be withme and half a score of the very best, whether they be of our folk orthe Woodlanders, men who cannot miss such a mark; and when we haveloosed, then let all loose, and stay not till our shot be spent. Haste, now haste! time presseth; for if the Host showeth on the browof the hill, these felons will hew down their slaughter-beasts beforethey turn on their foemen. Let the grey-goose wing speed trouble andconfusion amongst them. '

But ere she had done her words Wood-wise had got to speaking quietlywith the Woodlanders; and Bears-bane, who was amidst them, chose outeight of the best of his folk, men who doubted nothing of hittingwhatever they could see in the Market-place; and they took theirstand for shooting, and with them besides Bow-may were two women andfour 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 eachhad between the two last fingers of the shaft-hand another shaftready, and a half score more stuck into the ground before him. 

Now giveth Wood-wise the word to these sixteen as to which of thefelons with the glaives they shall each one aim at; and he saithwithal in a soft voice: 'Help cometh from the Hill; soon shallbattle be joined in Silver-dale. '

Thus stand they watching Bow-may and Gold-ring till they draw homethe notches; and amidst their waiting the glaive-bearing felons falla-singing a harsh and ugly hymn to their crooked-sword god, and theMarket-stead is thronged endlong and overthwart with the tribes ofthe Dusky Men. 

There now standeth Bow-may far-sighted and keen-eyed, her face aspale as a linen sleeve, an awful smile on her glittering eyes andclose-set lips, and she feeling the twisted string of the red yew andthe polished sides of the notch, while the yelling song of the Duskypriests quavers now and ends with a wild shrill cry, and she noteththe midmost of the priests beginning to handle his weapon: thenswift and steady she draweth home the notches, while the yew bowstandeth still as the oak-bole ere the summer storm ariseth, and thetwang of the sixteen strings maketh but one fell sound as thefeathered 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 hugewordless yell from those about the altar, and one of the priests whowas left hove up his glaive two-handed to smite the naked slaughter-thralls; but or ever the stroke fell, Bow-may's second shaft wasthrough his throat, and he rolled over amidst his dead fellows; andthe other fifteen had loosed with her, and then even as they couldWood-wise and the others of their company; and all they notched andloosed without tarrying, and no shout, no word came from their lips, only the twanging strings spake for them; for they deemed the minutesthat hurried by were worth much joy of their lives to be. And fewindeed were the passing minutes ere the dead men lay in heaps aboutthe Altar of the Crooked Sword, and the wounded men wallowed amidstthem. 

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 morepart 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 forthe burning of the thralls, and when they saw what was toward fell toyelling and cursing; and their fellows on the plain Place could nothear their story for the clamour, and they also fell to howling as ifa wood full of wild dogs was there. 

And still the shafts rained down on that throng from the Bent of theBowmen, for another two score men of the Woodlanders had crept downthe hill to them, and shafts failed them not. But the Dusky Menabout 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 wildlytoward 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, buttheir very tools of battle; and some, but no great number, had theirbows with them and a few shafts; and these began to shoot atwhatsoever they could see on the hill-side, but at first so wildlyand hurriedly that they did no harm. 

It must be said of them that at first only those about the altar fellon toward the hill; for those about the road that led southward knewnot what had betided nor whither to turn. So that at this beginningof the battle, of all the thousands in the great Place it was but afew hundreds that set on the Bent of the Bowmen, and at these thebowmen of the kindreds shot so close and so wholly together that theyfell one over another in the narrow ways between the houses wherebythey must needs go to gather on the plain ground betwixt the backs ofthe houses and the break of the hill-side. But little by little thearchers of the Dusky Men gathered behind the corpses of the slain, and fell to shooting at what they could see of the men of thekindreds, 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 andshooting from the Bents, and all they turned their faces to the hill, and the whole set of the throng was thitherward; though they faredbut slowly, so evil was the order of them, each man hindering hisneighbour as he went. And not only did the Dusky Men come flockmealtoward the Bent of the Bowmen, but also they jostled along toward theroad that led southward. That beheld Wood-wise from the Bent, and hewas minded to get him and his aback, now that they had made so greata slaughter of the foemen; and two or three of his fellows had beenhurt by arrows, and Bow-may, she would have been slain thrice overbut for the hammer-work of the Alderman. And no marvel was that; fornow she stood on a little mound not half covered by a thin thorn-bush, and notched and loosed at whatever was most notable, as thoughshe 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 behindthem rang out the merry sound of the Burgdale horns, and he turned tolook at the wood-side, and lo! thereunder was the hill bright anddark 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 gaveforth the bowmen of the kindreds their first shout, and they made nostay in their shooting; but shot the eagerer, for they deemed thathelp would come without their turning about to draw it to them: andeven 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-wolfthe 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 kindredshad been brought face to face with the foe, and there was less needof them for way-leaders, the more part of them were liefer to fightunder their own banner along with the Woodlanders; so that thecompany of those who went under the Wolves was more than three longhundreds and a half; and the bowmen on the edge of the bent shoutedagain and merrily, when they felt that their brothers were amongstthem, and presently was the arrow-storm at its fiercest, and thetwanging of bow-strings and the whistle of the shafts was as the windamong the clefts of the mountains; for all the new-comers were bowmenof the best. 

But the kindreds of the Steer, the Bridge, and the Bull, they hungyet a while longer on the hills' brow, their banners floating overthem and their horns blowing; and the Dusky Felons in the Market-place beheld them, and fear and rage at once filled their hearts, anda fierce and dreadful yell brake out from them, and joyously did theMen of Burgdale answer them, and song arose amongst them even such asthis:

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 cryOn 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 heartyshout all together, and all their horns blew, and they moved on downthe hill as one man, slowly and with no jostling, the spear-menfirst, and then they of the axe and the sword; and on their flanksthe deft archers loosed on the stumbling jostling throng of the DuskyMen, who for their part came on drifting and surging up the road tothe hill. 

But when those big spearmen of the Dale had gone a little way thehorns' voice died out, and their great-staved spears rose up fromtheir shoulders into the air, and stood so a moment, and then slowlyfell forward, as the oars of the longship fall into the row-locks, and then over the shoulders of the foremost men showed the steel ofthe five ranks behind them, and their own spears cast long bars ofshadow on the whiteness of the sunny road. No sound came from themnow save the rattle of their armour and the tramp of their steadyfeet; but from the Dusky Men rose up hideous confused yelling, andthose that could free themselves from the tangle of the throng rusheddesperately against the on-rolling hedge of steel, and the wholethrong shoved on behind them. Then met steel and men; here and therean ash-stave broke; here and there a Dusky Felon rolled himselfunhurt under the ash-staves, and hewed the knees of the Dalesmen, anda tall man came tottering down; but what men or wood-wights couldendure the push of spears of those mighty husbandmen? The Dusky Onesshrunk back yelling, or turned their backs and rushed at their ownfolk with such fierce agony that they entered into the throng, tillthe terror of the spear reached to the midmost of it and swayed themback on the hindermost; for neither was there outgate for the felonson the flanks of the spearmen, since there the feathered death besetthem, and the bowmen (and the Bride amongst the foremost) shot whollytogether, and no shaft flew idly. But the wise leaders of theDalesmen would not that they should thrust in too far amongst thehowling throng of the Dusky Men, lest they should be hemmed in bythem; for they were but a handful in regard to them: so there theystayed, barring the way to the Dusky Men, and the bowmen still loosedfrom the flanks of them, or aimed deftly from betwixt the ranks ofthe spearmen. 

And now was there a space of ten strides or more betwixt the Dalesmenand their foes, over which the spears hung terribly, nor durst theDusky Men adventure there; and thereon was nought but men dead orsorely hurt. Then suddenly a horn rang thrice shrilly over all thenoise and clamour of the throng, and the ranks of the spearmenopened, and forth into that space strode two score of the swordsmenand 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 hewas, wide-shouldered, exceeding strong, but beardless and fair-faced. He bore aloft a two-edged sword, broad-bladed, exceeding heavy, sothat few men could wield it in battle, but not right long; it was anancient weapon, and his father before him had called it the Barley-scythe. With him were some of the best of the kindreds, as Wolf ofWhitegarth, Long-hand of Oakholt, Hart of Highcliff, and War-well thecaptain of the Bridge. These made no tarrying on that space of thedead, but cried aloud their cries: 'For the Burg and the Steer! forthe Dale and the Bridge! for the Dale and the Bull!' and so fell atonce on the Felons; who fled not, nor had room to flee; and also theyfeared not the edge-weapons so sorely as they feared those hugespears. So they turned fiercely on the swordsmen, and chiefly onIron-hand, as he entered in amongst them the first of all, hewing tothe 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 anothertook his place, and hewed at him with the steel axe and the crookedsword; and with many strokes they clave his shield and brake his helmand rent his byrny, while he heeded little save smiting with theBarley-scythe, and the blood ran from his arm and his shoulder andhis thigh. 

But War-well had entered in among the foe on his left hand, andunshielded hove up a great broad-bladed axe, that clave the ironhelms of the Dusky Men, and rent their horn-scaled byrnies. He wasnot very tall, but his shoulders were huge and his arms long, andnought could abide his stroke. He cleared a ring round Iron-hand, whose eyes were growing dim as the blood flowed from him, and hewedthree strokes before him; then turned and drew the champion out ofthe throng, and gave him into the arms of his fellows to stanch theblood that drained away the might of his limbs; and then with a greatwordless roar leaped back again on the Dusky Men as the lion leapethon the herd of swine; and they shrank away before him; and all theswordsmen shouted, 'For the Bridge, for the Bridge!' and pressed onthe harder, smiting down all before them. On his left hand now wasHart of Highcliff wielding a good sword hight Chip-driver, wherewithhe had slain and hurt a many, fighting wisely with sword and shield, and driving the point home through the joints of the armour. Buteven therewith, as he drave a great stroke at a lord of the DuskyOnes, a cast-spear came flying and smote him on the breast, so thathe staggered, and the stroke fell flatlings on the shield-boss of hisfoe, and Chip-driver brake atwain nigh the hilts; but Hart closedwith him, and smote him on the face with the pommel, and tore his axefrom his hand and clave his skull therewith, and slew him with hisown weapon, and fought on valiantly beside War-well. 

Now War-well had fought so fiercely that he had rent his own hauberkwith the might of his strokes, and as he raised his arm to smite ahuge stroke, a deft man of the Felons thrust the spike of his war-axeup under his arm; and when War-well felt the smart of the steel, heturned on that man, and, letting his axe fall down to his wrist andhang there by its loop, he caught the foeman up by the neck and thebreech, and drave him against the other Dusky Ones before him, sothat 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, andhove 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-wellfell on again with the axe, and all the champions of the Dale shoutedand fell on with him, and the foe shrank away; and the Dalesmencleared a space five fathoms' length before them, and the spearmendrew onward and stood on the space whereon the first onslaught hadbeen. 

Then drew those hewers of the Dale together, and forth from thecompany came the man that bare the Banner of the Bridget and thechampions gathered round him, and they ordered their ranks and strodewith the Banner before them three times to and fro across the roadathwart the front of the spearmen, and then with a great shout drewback within the spear-hedge. Albeit five of the champions of theDale had been slain outright there, and the more part of them hurtmore 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 thespear-furrow, and a space was swept clear before them, and the criesand yells of the Dusky Men were so fierce and wild that the roughvoices of the Dalesmen were drowned amidst them. 

Forth then came every bowman of the kindred that was there and loosedon the Dusky Men; and they forsooth had some bowmen amongst them, butcooped up and jostled as they were they shot but wildly; whereas eachshaft 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 yewbow had been smitten by a shaft and broken in her hand: so she hadcaught up a short horn bow and a quiver from one of the slain of theDusky Men; and now she knelt on one knee under the shadow of thespears nigh to her grandsire Hall-ward, and with a pale face andknitted brow notched and loosed, and notched and loosed on the throngof foemen, as if she were some daintily fashioned engine of war. 

So fared the battle on the road that went from the south into theMarket-stead. Valiantly had the kindred fought there, and no man ofthem had blenched, and much had they won; but the way was perilousbefore 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 theWoodlanders 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 DuskyMen. As for these, for all they were so many, their arrow-shot wasno 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 withthese foemen, that some of them flung away their bows to brandish theaxe or the sword. Nevertheless were some among the kindred hurt orslain by their arrows. 

Now stood Face-of-god with the foremost; and from where he stood hecould see somewhat of the battle of the Dalesmen, and he wotted thatit was thriving; therefore he looked before him and close around him, and noted what was toward there. The space betwixt the houses andthe break of the bent was crowded with the fury of the Dusky Mentossing their weapons aloft, crying to each other and at the kindred, and here and there loosing a bow-string on them; but whatever wastheir rage they might not come a many together past a line within tenfathom of the bent's end; for three hundred of the best of bowmenwere shooting at them so ceaselessly that no Dusky man was safe ofany bare place of his body, and they fell over one another in thatpenfold of slaughter, and for all their madness did but little. 

Yet was the heart of the War-leader troubled; for he wotted that itmight not last for ever, and there seemed no end to the throng ofmurder-carles; and the time would come when the arrowshot would bespent, and they must needs come to handy strokes, and that with somany. 

Now a voice spake to him as he gazed with knitted brows and carefulheart 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? Andthou meseemeth art overlate on the field: the mowing of this meadowis no sluggard's work. '

He turned and beheld Bow-may, and gazed on her face for a moment, andsaw her eyes how they glittered, and how the pommels of her cheekswere burning red and her lips dry and grey; but before he answered helooked 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 theFelons had just come out of the court of one of the houses: a mantaller than most, very gaily arrayed, with gilded scales all overhim, so that, with his dark face and blue eyes, he looked like somestrange dragon. Bow-may spake not, but stamped her foot with anger. Yet if her heart were hot, her hand was steady; for she notched ashaft, and just as the Dusky Chief raised his axe and brandished italoft, she loosed, and the shaft flew and smote the felon in thearmpit and the default of the armour, and he fell to earth. But evenas she loosed, Face-of-god cried out in a loud voice:

'O lads of battle! shoot close and all together. Tarry not, tarrynot! for we need a little time ere sword meets sword, and the othersof 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 isgone 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, andFace-of-god took his bow from his hands and shot a shaft, while oneof 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; forwe knew that this is the most perilous place of the battle--hah! seethose three felons, Bow-may! they are aiming hither. '

And again he loosed and Bow-may also, but a shaft rattled on his helmwithal and another smote a Woodlander beside him, and pierced throughthe calf of his leg, as he turned and stooped to take fresh arrowsfrom a sheaf that lay there; but the carle took it by the notch andthe point, and brake it and drew it out, and then stood up and wenton 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 ourwork easy to us, if we can hold our own till then. They are on theother 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 thatall was quiet; and before him was the confused throng of the DuskyMen trampling their own dead and wounded, and not able as yet tocross that death-line of the arrow so near to them. But on his righthand he saw how they of the kindreds held them firm on the way. Thenfor a moment of time he considered and thought, till him-seemed hecould see the whole battle yet to be foughten; and his face flushed, and he said sharply: 'Bow-may, abide here and shoot, and show theothers where to shoot, while the arrows hold out; but we will gofurther for a while, and ye shall follow when we have made the rentgreat enough. '

She turned to him and said: 'Why art thou not more joyous? thou artlike 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 haveshot 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, andthou shalt see all this tangle open, as the sun cleaveth the cloudson 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 overit, and she said smiling somewhat: 'Now is this more than I lookedfor, 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 andsword, and follow me to clear the ground 'twixt the bent and thehalls. 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 Burgand the Face, for the Burg and the Face!'

Therewith he leapt down the steep of the hill, bounding like thehart, with Dale-warden naked in his hand; and they that followed weretwo score and ten; and the arrows of their bowmen rained over theirheads on the Dusky Men, as they smote down the first of the foemen, and the others shrieked and shrank from them, or turned on themsmiting wildly and desperately. 

But Face-of-god swept round the great sword and plunged into that seaof turmoil and noise and evil sights and savours, and even therewithhe heard clearly a voice that said: 'Goldring, I am hurt; take mybow a while!' and knew it for Bow-may's; but it came to his ears likethe song of a bird without meaning; for it was as if his life werechanged at once; and in a minute or two he had cut thrice with theedge 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 ofSilver-stead, and through the gap in them the tops of the blue ridgesfar aloof. And now had three fallen before him, and they feared him, and turned on him, and smote so many together that their strokescrossed each other, and one warded him from the other; and he laughedaloud and shielded himself, and drave the point of Dale-warden amidstthe tangle of weapons through the open mouth of a captain of theFelons, and slashed a cheek with a back-stroke, and swept round theedge to his right hand and smote off a blue-eyed snub-nosed head; andtherewith a pole-axe smote him on the left side of his helm, so thathe tottered; but he swung himself round, and stood stark and upright, and gave a short hack with the edge, keeping Dale-warden well inhand, and a gold-clad felon, a champion of them, and their tallest onthe 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 ofthe Wolf that floated behind and above him, and he cried out: 'As Ihave promised so have I done!' And he looked about, and beheld howvaliantly his fellows had been doing; for before him now was a spaceof earth with no man standing on his feet thereon, like the swathe ofthe mowers of June; and beyond that was the crowd of the Dusky Menwavering like the tall grass abiding the scythe. 

But a minute, and they fell to casting at Face-of-god and his fellowsspears and knives and shields and whatsoever would fly; and a spearsmote him on the breast, but entered not; and a bossed shield fellover his face withal, and a plummet of sling-lead smote his helm, andhe fell to earth; but leapt up again straightway, and heard as hearose a great shout close to him, and a shrill cry, and lo! at hisleft side Bow-may, her sword in her hand, and the hand red with bloodfrom a shaft-graze on her wrist, and a white cloth stained with bloodabout her neck; and on his right side Wood-wise bearing the bannerand crying the Wolf-whoop; for the whole company was come down fromthe slope and stood around him. 

Then for a little while was there such a stilling of the tumult abouthim there, that he heard great and glad cries from the Road of theSouth of 'The Burg and the Steer! The Dale and the Bridge! The Daleand the Bull!' And thereafter a terrible great shrieking cry, and ahuge voice that cried: 'Death, death, death to the Dusky Men!' Andthereafter again fierce cries and great tumult of the battle. 

Then Face-of-god shook Dale-warden in the air, and strode forwardfiercely, but not speedily, and the whole company went foot for footalong with him; and as he went, would he or would he not, song cameinto 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 shelaughed 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 onthem, and cooped up by the houses, so that they scarce knew how toflee, turned in the face of death, the foremost of them, and rushedfuriously on the array of the Woodlanders, and all those behindpressed on them like the big wave of the ebbing sea when the gust ofthe 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 DuskyMen, that hewing and thrusting at them availed nought, unless theywere slain outright or stunned; and even if they fell they rolledthemselves up against their tall foe-men, heeding not death or woundsif they might but slay or wound. There then fell War-grove and tenothers of the Woodlanders, and four men of the Wolf, but none beforehe 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 himdown, while another strove to smite his head off; but the stout carledrave a wood-knife into the side of the first felon, and drew it outspeedily and smote the other, the smiter, in the face with the sameknife, and therewith they all three rolled together on the earthamongst the feet of men. Even so did another felon by Bow-may, anddragged her down to the ground, and smote her with a long knife asshe 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 hadhewed a space round about him with great two-handed strokes; and yetthe blade brake not. Then he caught up Bow-may from the earth, andthe 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 alittle with her, and half bore her, half thrust her through thethrong to the rearward of his folk, and left her there with twocarlines of the Wolf who followed the host for leechcraft's sake, andthen turned back shouting: 'For the Face, for the Face!' and therefollowed him back to the battle, a band of those who were fresh asyet, and their blades unbloodied, the young men of the Woodlands. 

The wearier fighters made way for them as they came on shouting, andFace-of-god was ahead of them all, and leapt at the foemen as a manunwearied and striking his first stroke, so wondrous hale he was; andthey drave a wedge amidst of the Dusky Men, and then turned about andstood 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 hissword-point up rose a grim shape from the earth, tall, grey-haired, and bloody-faced, who uttered the Wolf-whoop from amidst the terrorof his visage, and turned and swung round his head an axe of theDusky Men, and fell to smiting them with their own weapon. The DuskyMen shrieked in answer to his whoop, and all shrunk from him andFace-of-god; but a cry of joy went up from the kindred, for they knewGold-ring, whom they deemed had been slain. So they all pressed ontogether, smiting down the foe before them, and the Dusky Men, someturned their backs and drave those behind them, till they too turnedand were strained through the passages and courts of the houses, andsome were overthrown and trodden down as they strove to hold face tothe Woodlanders, and some were hewn down where they stood; but thewhole throng of those that were on their feet drifted toward theMarket-place, the Woodlanders following them ever with point andedge, till betwixt the bent and the houses no foeman stood up againstthem. 

Then they stood together, and raised the whoop of victory, and blewtheir horns long and loud in token of their joy, and the Woodland menlifted 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 DaleAs 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 cameTo 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 hurtsorely, but not deadly, and led him back toward the place just underthe break of the bent; and there he found Bow-may in the hands of thewomen who were tending her hurts. She smiled on him from a pale faceas he drew nigh, and he looked kindly at her, but he might not abidethere, for haste was in his feet. He left Red-wolf to the tending ofthe women, and clomb the bent hastily, and when he deemed he was highenough, he looked about him; and somewhat more than half an hour hadworn since Bow-may had sped the first shaft against the Dusky Men. 

He looked down into the Market-stead, and deemed he could see thatnigh the Mote-house the Dusky Men were gathering into some betterorder; but they were no longer drifting toward the southern bents, but were standing round about the altar as men abiding somewhat; andhe deemed that they had gotten more bowshot than before, and thatmost of them bare bows. Though so many had been slain in the battlesof the southern bents, yet was the Market-stead full of them, so tosay, for others had come thereto in place of those that had fallen. 

But now as he looked arose mighty clamour amongst them; and a littlewest of the Altar was a stir and a hurrying onward and around as inthe eddies of a swift stream. Face-of-god wotted not what wasbetiding there, but he deemed that they were now ware of the onfallof Folk-might and Hall-face and the men of Burgdale, for their faceswere all turned to where that was to be looked for. 

So he turned and looked on the road to the east of him, where hadbeen the battle of the Steer, but now it was all gone down toward theMarket-place, and he could but hear the clamour of it; but nought hesaw thereof, because of the houses that hid it. 

Then he cast his eyes on the road that entered the Market-stead fromthe north, and he saw thereon many men gathered; and he wotted notwhat they were; for though there were weapons amongst them, yet werethey not all weaponed, as far as he could see. 

Now as he looked this way and that, and deemed that he must tarry nolonger, but must enter into the courts of the houses before him andmake his way into the Market-stead, lo! a change in the throng ofDusky Warriors nigh the Mote-house, and the ordered bands about theAltar fell to drifting toward the western way with one accord, withgreat 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 itcame upon Bow-may standing upright and sword in hand; and as hepassed, she joined herself to him, and said: 'What new tidings now, Gold-mane?'

'Tidings of battle!' he cried; 'tidings of victory! Folk-might hathfallen 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: 'Whathorn is that blowing?'

He stayed not, but shouted aloud: 'For the Face, for the Face! Nowwill 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 theMarket-place; much is yet to do!'

Even therewith came the sound of other horns, and all men were silenta moment, and then shouted all together, for the Wood-landers knew itfor 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 theyfollowed and gat them through the courts of the houses and theirpassages into the Market-place. There they found more room than theylooked to find; for the foemen had drawn away on the left hand towardthe battle of Folk-might, and on the right hand toward the battle ofthe Steer; and great was the noise and cry that came thence. 

Now stood Face-of-god under the two banners of the Wolf in theMarket-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 todo. For on the left hand he deemed the foe was the strongest andbest ordered; but there also were the kindreds the doughtiest, and itwas little like that the felons should overcome the spear-casters ofthe Face and the glaive-bearers of the Sickle, and the bowmen of theVine: 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 burningsteady and clear, like the oaken butt on the hearth of the hall. 

Then as his mind pictured him amongst the foe, it made therewithanother picture of the slender warrior Sun-beam caught in the tangleof battle, and longing for him and calling for him amidst the hardhand-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 onthe left. But therewith he bethought him of the bold men of theSteer and the Bridge and the Bull weary with much fighting; and heremembered also that the Bride was amongst them and fighting, itmight be, amidst the foremost, and if she were slain how should heever hold up his head again. He bethought him also that theShepherds, who had fallen on by the eastern road, valiant as theywere, were scarce so well armed or so well led as the others. Therewithal he bethought him (and again it came like a picture intohis mind) of falling on the foemen by whom the southern battle wasbeset, 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 aminute ere he cried out: 'Blow up horns, blow up! forward banners, and follow me, O valiant men! to the helping of the Steer, theBridge, and the Bull; deep have they thrust into the Dusky Throng, and belike are hard pressed. Hark how the clamour ariseth from theirbesetters! 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 hadthe Woodlanders also learned it, and the hearts of the foemen sank asthey heard the might and the mass thereof. Then the battle of theWoodlanders swept round and fell upon the flank of them who werebesetting the kindreds, as an iron bar smiteth the soft fir-wood; andthey of the kindreds heard their cry, but faintly and confusedly, sogreat was the turmoil of battle about them. 

Now once more was Bow-may by the side of Face-of-god; and if she hadnot the might of the mightiest, yet had she the deftness of thedeftest. And now was she calm and cool, shielding herself with acopper-bossed target, and driving home the point of her sharp sword;white was her face, and her eyes glittered amidst it, and she seemedto men like to those on whose heads the Warrior hath laid the HolyBread. 

As to Wood-wise, he had given the Banner of the red-jawed Wolf toStone-wolf, a huge and dreadful warrior some forty winters old, whohad fought in the Great Overthrow, and now hewed down the Dusky Men, wielding a heavy short-sword left-handed. But Wood-wise himselffought with a great sword, giving great strokes to the right hand andthe 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 wardinghis 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 edgeof the upraised axe, and stayed the point of the foeman in mid-air. 

Even so wisely fought the whole band of the Woodlanders and theWolves, who got within smiting space of the foe; for they had no willto 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 beenbetwixt the bent and the houses; for the Dusky Men were intent ondealing with the men of the kindreds from the southern road, whostood war-wearied before them; and they were hewing and casting atthem, and baying and yelling like dogs; and though they turned aboutto meet the storm of the Woodlanders, yet their hearts failed themwithal, and they strove to edge away from betwixt those two fearfulscythes of war, fighting as men fleeing, not as men in onset. Butstill 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 themorning sun were clear to see, and at last their very faces, kindlyand familiar, worn and strained with the stress of battle, orlaughing wildly, or pale with the fury of the fight. Then rose up tothe heavens the blended shout of the Woodlanders and the Dalesmen, and now there was nought of foemen betwixt them save the dead and thewounded. 

Then Face-of-god thrust his sword into its sheath all bloody as itwas, and strode over the dead men to where Hall-ward stood under thebanner of the Steer, and cast his arms about the old carle, andkissed him for joy of the victory. But Hall-ward thrust him abackand looked him in the face, and his cheeks were pale and his lipsclenched, and his eyes haggard and staring, and he said in a harshvoice:

'O young man, she is dead! I saw her fall. The Bride is dead, andthou hast lost thy troth-plight maiden. O death, death to the DuskyMen!'

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, itis nought so bad as that; she is hurt, and sorely; but she livethyet. '

Face-of-god heard him not. He forgot Dale-warden lying in hissheath, and he saw that the last speaker had a great wood-axe broadand heavy in his hand, so he cried: 'Man, man, thine axe!' andsnatched it from him, and turned about to the foe again, and thrustthrough the ranks, suffering none to stay him till all his friendswere behind and all his foes before him. And as he burst forth fromthe ranks waving his axe aloft, bare-headed now, his yellow hairflying abroad, his mouth crying out, 'Death, death, death to theDusky Men!' fear of him smote their hearts, and they howled and fledbefore him as they might; for they said that the Dalesmen had prayedtheir Gods into the battle. But not so fast could they flee but hewas presently amidst them, smiting down all about him, and they soterror-stricken that scarce might they raise a hand against him. Allthat blended host followed him mad with wrath and victory, and asthey pressed on, they heard behind them the horns and war-cries ofthe Shepherds falling on from the east. Nought they heeded that now, but drave on a fearful storm of war, and terrible was the slaughterof the Felons. 

It was but a few minutes ere they had driven them up against thatgreat stack of faggots that had been dight for the burnt-offering ofmen, and many of the felons had mounted up on to it, and now in theiranguish of fear were shooting arrows and casting spears on all aboutthem, heeding little if they were friend or foe. Now were the men ofthe kindreds at point to climb this twiggen burg; but by this timethe fury of Face-of-god had run clear, and he knew where he was andwhat he was doing; so he stayed his folk, and cried out to them:'Forbear, climb not! let the torch help the sword!' And therewith helooked about and saw the fire-pot which had been set down there forthe kindling of the bale-fire, and the coals were yet red in it; sohe snatched up a dry brand and lighted it thereat, and so did diversothers, and they thrust them among the faggots, and the fire caughtat once, and the tongues of flame began to leap from faggot to faggottill all was in a light low; for the wood had been laid for that veryend, and smeared with grease and oil so that the burning to the godmight be speedy. 

But the fierceness of the kindreds heeded not the fire, nor overmuchthe men who leapt down from the stack before it, but they left allbehind them, faring straight toward the western outgate from theMarket-stead; and Face-of-god still led them on; though by now he waswholly come to his right mind again, albeit the burden of sorrow yetlay heavy on his heart. He had broken his axe, and had once moredrawn 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, asthough a new onset were at hand. That saw Face-of-god and Hall-wardand War-well, and other wise leaders of men, and they bade their folkforbear the chase, and lock their ranks to meet the onfall of thisnew wave of foemen. And they did so, and stood fast as a wall; butlo! the onrush that drave up against them was but a fleeing shriekingthrong, and no longer an array of warriors, for many had cast awaytheir weapons, and were rushing they knew not whither; for they werebeing thrust on the bitter edges of Face-of-god's companies by theterror of the fleers from the onset of the men of the Face, theSickle, and the Vine, whom Hall-face and Stone-face were leading, along with Folk-might. Then once again the men of Face-of-god gaveforth the whoop of victory, and pressed forward again, hewing theirway through the throng of fleers, but turning not to chase to theright or the left; while at their backs came on the Shepherd-folk, who had swept down all that withstood them; for now indeed was theMarket-stead getting thinner of living men. 

So led the War-leader his ordered ranks, till at last over thetangled crowd of runaways he saw the banners of the Burg and the Faceflashing against the sun, and heard the roar of the kindreds as theydrave the chase towards them. Then he lifted up his sword, and stoodstill, and all the host behind him stayed and cast a huge shout up tothe heavens, and there they abode the coming of the other Dalesmen. 

But the War-leader sent a message to Hound-under-Greenbury, biddinghim lead the Shepherds to the chase of the Dusky Men, who were nowall fleeing toward the northern outgate of the Market. Howbeit hecalled to mind the throng he had seen on the northern road beforethey were come into the Market-stead, and deemed that way also deathawaited the foemen, even if the men of the kindreds forbore them. 

But presently the space betwixt the Woodlanders and the men of theFace was clear of all but the dead, so that friend saw the face offriend; and it could be seen that the warriors of the Face were ruddyand smiling for joy, because the battle had been easy to them, andbut few of them had fallen; for the Dusky Men who had left theMarket-stead to fall on them, had had room for fleeing behind them, and had speedily turned their backs before the spear-casting of themen of the Face and the onrush of the swordsmen. 

There then stood these victorious men facing one another, and thebanner-bearers on either side came through the throng, and broughtthe banners together between the two hosts; and the Wolf kissed theFace, and the Sickle and the Vine met the Steer and the Bridge andthe Bull: but the Shepherds were yet chasing the fleers. 

There in the forefront stood Hall-face the tall, with the joy ofbattle in his eyes. And Stone-face, the wise carle in war, stoodsolemn and stark beside him; and there was the goodly body and thefair and kindly visage of the Alderman smiling on the faces of hisfriends. But as for Folk-might, his face was yet white and awefulwith anger, and he looked restlessly up and down the front of thekindreds, though he spake no word. 

Then Face-of-god could no longer forbear, but he thrust Dale-wardeninto his sheath, and ran forward and cast his arms about his father'sneck and kissed him; and the blood of himself and of the foemen wason 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 bythe hand, and was on the point of speaking some word to him, when theranks 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 hethought of little else than her; but she stepped lightly up to him, and unashamed before the whole host she kissed him on the mouth, andhe cast his mailed arms about her, and joy made him forget manythings and what was next to do, though even at that moment cameafresh a great clamour of shrieks and cries from the northern outgateof the Market-stead: and the burning pile behind them cast a greatwavering flame into the air, contending with the bright sun of thatfair day, now come hard on noontide. But ere he drew away his facefrom the Sun-beam's, came memory to him, and a sharp pang shotthrough his heart, as he heard Folk-might say: 'Where then is theShield-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 someoneelse should say it aloud. But Bow-may stepped forward and said:'Chief of the Wolf, be of good cheer; our kinswoman is hurt, but notdeadly. '

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 havetold 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 thereare no foemen behind us. '

Then came a voice from Folk-might which said: 'Now were it best tosend good men and deft in arms, and who know Silver-dale, from houseto 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 isnow over, and I am but a simple man amongst you; therefore, if yewill give me leave, I will go see this poor kinswoman of ours, andcomfort her. '

They bade him go: so he sheathed his sword, and went through thepress with two men of the Steer toward the southern road; for theBride 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 remembranceof 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 anighto her death, that he put his hands to his face and wept as a childthat will not be comforted; nor had he any shame of all thosebystanders, who in sooth were men good and kindly, and had no shameof his grief or marvelled at it, for indeed their own hearts weresore for their lovely kinswoman, and many of them also wept withFace-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 notears came into her eyes; then she looked askance at Folk-might andtrembled; but he said coldly, and in a loud voice:

'Needs must we search the houses for the lurking felons, or many aman will yet be murdered. Let Wood-wicked lead a band of men at oncefrom house to house. '

Then said a man of the Wolf hight Hardgrip: 'Wood-wicked was slainbetwixt 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 awounded 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 outthe ranks where stood the Wolves. 

Said Folk-might: 'Kinsman Crow, do thou take two score and ten ofdoughty men who are not too hot-headed, and search every house aboutthe Market-place; but if ye come on any house that makes a stoutdefence, send ye word thereof to the Mote-house, where we willpresently be, and we shall send you help. Slay every felon that yefall in with; but if ye find in the houses any of the poor folkcrouching and afraid, comfort their hearts all ye may, and tell themthat now is life come to them. '

So Crow fell to getting his band together, and presently departedwith 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 deemedthat the thralls had gotten weapons into their hands and were slayingtheir 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 intothe Mote-house of the Wolf, and let all the Host set itself in arraybefore the said house, and abide till the chasers of the foe come tous thither; for I perceive that they are now become many, and aremore 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 loudvoice: 'Forward, banners! blow up horns! fare we forth withvictory!'

So the Host drew its ranks together in good order, and they all setforward, and old Stone-face took the Sun-beam by the hand and led onbehind Folk-might and the War-leader. But when they came to theHall, then saw they how the steps that led up to the door were highand double, going up from each side without any railing or fool-guard; and crowding the stairs and the platform thereof was a band ofthe Dusky Men, as many as could stand thereon, who shot arrows at thehost of the kindreds, howling like dogs, and chattering like apes;and arrows and spears came from the windows of the Hall; yea, and onthe very roof a score of these felons were riding the ridge andmocking like the trolls of old days. 

Now when they saw this they stayed a while, and men shielded themagainst the shafts; but the leaders drew together in front of theHost, and Folk-might fell to speech; and his face was very pale andstern; for now he had had time to think of the case of the Bride, andfierce wrath, and grief unholpen filled his soul. So he said:

'Brothers, this is my business to deal with; for I see before me thestair that leadeth to the Mote-house of my people, and now would Isit there whereas my fathers sat, when peace was on the Dale, as oncemore it shall be to-morrow. Therefore up this stair will I go, andnone shall hinder me; and let no man of the host follow me till Ihave 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 atthe 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 wouldstand 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-mightshall fall on by the southern stair to slake his grief and increasehis glory, and Face-of-god and Hall-face by the northern. Haste tothe work, O brothers!'

And he and Hall-face went to their places, while all looked on. Butthe Sun-beam, with her hand still in Stone-face's, she turned whiteto the lips, and stared with wild eyes before her, not knowing whereshe was; for she had deemed that the battle was over, and Face-of-godsaved from it. 

But Folk-might tossed up his head and laughed, and cried out, 'Atlast, at last!' And his sword was in his hand, the Sleep-thorn towit, a blade of ancient fame; so now he let it fall and hang to hiswrist by the leash, while he clapped his hands together and utteredthe Wolf-whoop mightily, and all the men of the Wolf that were in thehost, and the Woodlanders withal, uttered it with him. Then he puthis shield over his head and stood before the first of the steps, andthe Dusky Men laughed to see one man come against them, though therewas 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 thethroat of a Dusky lord, and thrust amongst them, hewing right andleft, and tumbling men over the edge of the stair, which was to themas the narrow path along the cliff-side that hangeth over theunfathomed sea. They hewed and thrust at him in turn; but so closewere they packed that their weapons crossed about him, and oneshielded him from the other, and they swayed staggering on thatfearful verge, while the Sleep-thorn crept here and there amongstthem, lulling their hot fury. For, as desperate as they were, andfighting for death and not for life, they had a horror of him and ofthe sea of hatred below them, and feared where to set their feet, andhe feared nought at all, but from feet to sword-point was but anengine of slaughter, while the heart within him throbbed with furylong held back as he thought upon the Bride and her wounding, and allthe wrongs of his people since their Great Undoing. 

So he smote and thrust, till him-seemed the throng of foes thinnedbefore him: with his sword-pommel he smote a lord of the Dusky Onesin the face, so that he fell over the edge amongst the spears of thekindred; then he thrust the point of Sleep-thorn towards the Hall-door through the breast of another, and then it seemed to him that hehad 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 outthe cry, 'For the Burg and the Face! for the Face, for the Face!' andhe drew aback a little, and his eyes cleared, and lo! it was Hall-face the tall, his long sword all reddened with battle; and besidehim stood Face-of-god, silent and panting, his face pale with thefierce anger of the fight, and the weariness which was now at lastgaining upon him. There stood those three with no other living manupon 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 intothe Hall, O Kindred of the Gods!'

Then poured the Folk up over the stairs and into the Hall of theWolf, the banners flapping over their heads; and first went the War-leader and Folk-might and Hall-face, and then the three deliveredthralls, Wolf-stone, God-swain, and Spear-fist, and Dallach withthem, though both he and Wolf-stone had been hurt in the battle; andthen came blended together the Men of the Face along with them of theWolf who had entered the Market-stead with them, and with these wereStone-face and Wood-wont and Bow-may, leading the Sun-beam betwixtthem; and now was she come to herself again, though her face was yetpale, and her eyes gleamed as she stepped across the threshold of theHall. 

But when a many were gotten in, and the first-comers had had time tohandle their weapons and look about them, a cry of the utmost wrathbroke from Folk-might and those others who remembered the Hall fromof old. For wretched and befouled was that well-builded house: thehangings rent away; the goodly painted walls daubed and smeared withwicked tokens of the Alien murderers: the floor, once bright withpolished stones of the mountain, and strewn with sweet-smellingflowers, was now as foul as the den of the man-devouring troll of theheaths. From the fair-carven roof of oak and chestnut-beams hungugly knots of rags and shapeless images of the sorcery of the DuskyMen. And furthermore, and above all, from the last tie-beam of theroof over the dais dangled four shapes of men-at-arms, whom the oldermen of the Wolf knew at once for the embalmed bodies of their fourgreat chieftains, who had been slain on the day of the Great Undoing;and they cried out with horror and rage as they saw them hangingthere in their weapons as they had lived. 

There was the Hostage of the Earth, his shield painted with the greenworld 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 anda lion done thereon. There was Wealth-eker, on whose shield was donea golden sheaf of wheat. There was he who bore a name great from ofold, Folk-wolf to wit, bearing on his shield the axe of the hewer. There they hung, dusty, befouled, with sightless eyes and grinningmouths, in the dimmed sunlight of the Hall, before the eyes of thatvictorious Host, stricken silent at the sight of them. 

Underneath them on the dais stood the last remnant of the battle ofthe Dusky Men; and they, as men mad with coming death, shook theirweapons, and with shrieking laughter mocked at the overcomers, andpointed to the long-dead chiefs, and called on them in the tongue ofthe 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, andbade them better their deed of slaying, and set to work to make aliveagain, and cause their kinsmen to live merry on the earth. 

With that last mock they handled their weapons and rushed howling onthe warriors to meet their death; nor was it long denied them; forthe sword of the Wolf, the axe of the Woodland, and the spear of theDale soon made an end of the dreadful lives of these destroyers ofthe Folks. 

CHAPTER XLVIII. MEN SING IN THE MOTE-HOUSE

Then strode the Warriors of the Wolf over the bodies of the slain onto the dais of their own Hall; and Folk-might led the Sun-beam by thehand, and now was his sword in its sheath, and his face was growncalm, though it was stern and sad. But even as he trod the daiscomes 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 wordto thee; even this, which I am to tell to thee and the War-leaderboth: It is most true that our kinswoman the Bride will not die, butlive. So help me, the Warrior and the Face! This is the word of theAlderman. '

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 deemedthat tears were falling from his eyes on to the hall-floor. As forhim, he grew exceeding glad, and he turned to the Sun-beam and mether 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 closeup 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, Ithought thee so goodly a warrior that my heart was in my mouth. Butnow 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 becausehe hath heard that the Bride shall live. Be sure then that she shallnot gainsay him. O fair shall the world be to-morrow!'

But she said: 'O Gold-mane, I have no words. Is there no minstrelsyamongst us?'

Now by this time were many of the men of the Wolf and the Woodlandersgathered on the dais of the Hall; and the Dalesmen noting this, andwotting that these men were now in their own Mote-house, withdrewthem as they might for the press toward the nether end thereof. Thatthe Sun-beam noted, and that all those about her save the War-leaderwere of the kindreds of the Wolf and the Woodland, and, stillspeaking softly, she said to Face-of-god:

'Gold-mane, meseemeth I am now in my wrong place; for now the Wolfraiseth up his head, but I am departing from him. Surely I shouldnow be standing amongst my people of the Face, whereto I am going erelong. '

He said: 'Beloved, I am now become thy kindred and thine home, andit is meet for thee to stand beside me. '

She cast her eyes adown and answered not; and she fell a-pondering ofhow sorely she had desired that fair dale, and now she would leaveit, and be content and more than content. 

But now the kindreds had sundered, they upon the dais rankedthemselves together there in the House which their fathers hadbuilded; and when they saw themselves so meetly ordered, their heartsbeing full with the sweetness of hope accomplished and the joy ofdeliverance from death, song arose amongst them, and they fell tosinging 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 goodWas the wasteland our guester, and kind was the wood;Though below us for reaping lay under our handThe harvest of weeping, the grief of the land;Dumb cowered the sorrow, nought daring to cryOn 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 mirthOf 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 poolThe 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 mornShall awaken and wonder how gladness was born!O wont unto sorrow, how sweet unto youShall 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 songended, for those that should never see the good days of the Dale, andall 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 ofSilver-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 hadknown and loved. 

CHAPTER XLIX. DALLACH FARETH TO ROSE-DALE: CROW TELLETH OF HISERRAND: THE KINDREDS EAT THEIR MEAT IN SILVER-DALE

Now Dallach, who had gone away for a while, came back again into theHall; and at his back were a half score of men who bore ladders withthem: they were stout men, clad in scanty and ragged raiment, butgirt with swords and bearing axes, those of them who were nothandling the ladders. Men looked on them curiously, because they sawthem to be of the roughest of the thralls. They were sullen andfierce-eyed to behold, and their hands and bare arms were fleckedwith blood; and it was easy to see that they had been chasing thefleers, and making them pay for their many torments of past days. 

But when Face-of-god beheld this he cried out: 'Ho, Dallach! is itso that thou hast bethought thee to bring in hither men to fall tothe cleansing of the Hall, and to do away the defiling of the DuskyMen?'

'Even so, War-leader, ' said Dallach; 'also ye shall know that allbattle is over in Silver-stead; for the thralls fell in numbers notto be endured on the Dusky Men who had turned their backs to us, andhindered them from fleeing north. But though they have slain many, they have not slain all, and the remnant have fled by divers wayswestaway, that they may gain the wood and the ways to Rose-dale; andthe stoutest of the thralls are at their heels, and ever as they gofresh men from the fields join in the chase with great joy. I havegathered 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, andfollow hard on the fleers, and so get me home to Rose-dale; forthither will these runaways to meet whatso of their kind may be leftthere. Also I would fain be there to set some order amongst the poorfolk of mine own people, whom this day's work hath delivered fromtorment. And if thou wilt suffer a few men of the Dalesmen to comealong with me, then shall all things be better done there. '

'Luck go with thine hands!' said Face-of-god. 'Take whomso thou wiltof the Burgdalers that have a mind to fare with thee to the number offive score; and send word of thy thriving to Folk-might, thechieftain of the Dale; as for us, meseemeth that we shall abide hereno long while. How sayest thou, Folk-might, shall Dallach go?'

Then Folk-might, who stood close beside him, looked up and reddenedsomewhat, as a man caught heedless when he should be heedful; but helooked kindly on Face-of-god, and said:

'War-leader, so long as thou art in the Dale which ye kindreds havewon back for us, thou art the chieftain, and no other, and I bid theedo as thou wilt in this matter, and in all things; and I hereby givecommand to all my kindred to do according to thy will everywhere andalways, as they love me; and indeed I deem that thy will shall betheirs; since it is only fools who know not their well-wishers. Howsay ye, kinsmen?'

Then those about cried out: 'Hail to Face-of-god! Hail to theDalesmen! Hail to our friends!'

But Folk-might went up to Face-of-god, and threw his arms about himand kissed him, and he said therewithal, so that most men heard him:

'Herewith I kiss not only thee, thou goodly and glorious warrior! butthis kiss and embrace is for all the men of the kindreds of the Daleand the Shepherds; since I deem that never have men more valiantdwelt 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 Hallor anigh it; for hereabouts now is the heart of the Host. But as forme, I would have leave to depart for a little; since I have anerrand, whereof thou mayest wot. '

Then Face-of-god smiled on him, and said: 'Go, and all good go withthee; and tell my father that I would have tidings, since I may notbe there. ' So he spake; yet in his heart was he glad that he mightnot go to behold the Bride lying sick and sorry. But Folk-mightdeparted without more words; and in the door of the Hall he met Crowthe Shaft-speeder, who would have spoken to him, and given him thetidings; 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 clearedall the houses about the Market-stead. Moreover, by the rede ofDallach we have set certain men of the poor folk of the Dale, who arewell looked to by the others, to the burying of the slain felons; andthey be digging trenches in the fields on the north side of theMarket-stead, and carry the carcasses thither as they may. But theslain whom they find of the kindreds do they array out yonder beforethis Hall. In all wise are these men tame and biddable, save thatthey rage against the Dusky Men, though they fear them yet. As forus, they deem us Gods come down from heaven to help them. So muchfor what is good: now have I an ill word to say; to wit, that in thehouses whereas we have found many thralls alive, yet also have wefound many dead; for amongst these murder-carles were some of an evilsort, who, when they saw that the battle would go against them, rushed into the houses hewing down all before them--man, woman, andchild; so that many of the halls and chambers we saw running bloodlike to shambles. To be short: of them whom they were going to hewto the Gods, we have found thirteen living and three dead, of whichlatter is one woman; and of the living, seven women; and all these, living and dead, with the leaden shackles yet on them wherein theyshould be burned. To all these and others whom we have found, wehave 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 thefelons had, and these will fetch and carry for you as much as yewill. Is all done rightly, War-leader?'

'Right well, ' said Face-of-god, 'and we give thee our thankstherefor. And now it were well if these thy folk were to dight ourdinner for us in some green field the nighest that may be, andthither shall all the Host be bidden by sound of horn. Meantime, letus 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 HolyHearth, and bid the Gods and the Fathers come back and behold theirchildren sitting glad in the ancient Hall. '

Then men shouted and were exceeding joyous; but Face-of-god said oncemore: 'Bear ye a bench out into the Market-place over against thedoor of this Hall: thereon will I sit with other chieftains of thekindreds, that whoso will may have recourse to us. '

So therewith all the men of the kindreds made their ways out of theHall and into the Market-stead, which was by this time much clearedof the slaughtered felons; and the bale for the burnt-offering wasnow but smouldering, and a thin column of blue smoke was going upwavering amidst the light airs of the afternoon. Men were somewhatsilent 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 theafter-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 ofthe Host; and of these were two score and five of the kindreds of theSteer, the Bull, and the Bridge, who had made such valiant onslaughtby the southern road. Of the Shepherds died one score save three;for though they scattered the foe at once, yet they fell on with suchheadlong valour, rather than wisely, that many were trapped in thethrong of the Dusky Men. Of the Woodlanders were slain one score andnine; for hard had been the fight about them, and no man of themspared 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 thistale are told all those who died of their hurts after the day ofbattle. Therewithal many others were sorely hurt who mended, andwent 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 cameforth and stood on the mound of the altar, and bade men fare todinner, and therewith he led the way, bearing in his hand the bannerof the Golden Bushel, of which House he was; and they followed himinto a fair and great mead on the southwest of Silver-stead, besprinkled about with ancient trees of sweet chestnut. There theyfound the boards spread for them with the best of victual which thepoor down-trodden folk knew how to dight for them; and especially wasthere 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 fiercesword-wielders, the Gods who had delivered them. The said thrallswere mostly not of those who had fallen so bitterly on their fleeingmasters, but were men and women of the households, not so roughlytreated as the others, that is to say, those who had been wont totoil under the lash in the fields and the silver-mines, and were aswild as they durst be. 

As for these waiting-thralls, the men of the kindreds were gentle andblithe with them, and often as they served them would they stay theirhands (and especially if they were women), and would draw down theirheads to put a morsel in their mouths, or set the wine-cup to theirlips; and they would stroke them and caress them, and treat them inall wise as their dear friends. Moreover, when any man was full, hewould arise and take hold of one of the thralls, and set him in hisplace, and serve him with meat and drink, and talk with him kindly, so that the poor folk were much bewildered with joy. And the firstthat 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 theywent from table to table serving the others. 

The Sun-beam had done off her armour, and went about exceeding fairand lovely in her kirtle; but Bow-may yet bore her hauberk, for sheloved it, and indeed it was so fine and well-wrought that it was nogreat burden. Albeit she had gone down with the Sun-beam and otherwomen to a fair stream thereby, and there had they bathed and washedthemselves; and Bow-may's hurts, which were not great, had beenlooked 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 themeat and drink; and if sorrow were blended with their joy, yet werethey high-hearted through both joy and sorrow, looking forward to thegood days to be in the Dales at the Roots of the Mountains, and thelove and fellowship of Folks and of Houses. 

But as for Face-of-god, he went not to the meadow, but abode sittingon the bench in the Market-place, where were none else now of thekindreds save the appointed warders. They had brought him a morseland a cup of wine, and he had eaten and drunk; and now he sat therewith Dale-warden lying sheathed across his knees, and seeming to gazeon the thralls of Silver-dale busied in carrying away the bodies ofthe slain felons, after they had stripped them of their raiment andweapons. Yet indeed all this was before his eyes as a picture whichhe noted not. Rather he sat pondering many things; wondering at hisbeing there in Silver-dale in the hour of victory; longing for thepeace of Burgdale and the bride-chamber of the Sun-beam. Then wenthis thought out toward his old playmate lying hurt in Silver-dale;and his heart was grieved because of her, yet not for long, thoughhis thought still dwelt on her; since he deemed that she would liveand presently be happy--and happy thenceforward for many years. Sopondered 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 Hallto the house where the Bride lay; and the swain who had brought themessage went along with him, and he was proud of walking beside somighty a warrior, and he talked to Folk-might as they went; and thesound of his voice was irksome to the chieftain, but he made asthough 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 hadthe Bride fallen to earth), he could withhold his grief no longer, but turned on the threshold and laid his head on the door-jamb, andsobbed and wept till the tears fell down like rain. And the boystood by wondering, and wishing that Folk-might would forbearweeping, but durst not speak to him. 

In a while Folk-might left weeping and went in, and found a fair hallsore befouled by the felons, and in the corner on a bed covered withfurs the wounded woman; and at first sight he deemed her not so paleas he looked to see her, as she lay with her long dark-red hairstrewed over the pillow, her head moving about wearily. A linencloth was thrown over her body, but her arms lay out of it beforeher. Beside her sat the Alderman, his face sober enough, but not asone in heavy sorrow; and anigh him was another chair as if someonehad but just got up from it. There was no one else in the hall savetwo women of the Woodlanders, one of whom was cooking some potion onthe hearth, and another was sweeping the floor anigh of bran or somesuch stuff, which had been thrown down to sop up the blood. 

So Folk-might went up to the Bride, sorely dreading the image ofdeath which she had grown to be, and sorely loving the woman she wasand would be. 

He knelt down by the bedside, heeding Iron-face little, though henodded friendly to him, and he held his face close to hers; but shehad her eyes shut and did not open them till he had been there alittle while; and then they opened and fixed themselves on hiswithout surprise or change. Then she lifted her right hand (for itwas in her left shoulder and side that she had been hurt) and slowlylaid 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. Thenshe spake in a weak voice:

'Thou seest, chieftain and dear friend, that I may not stand by thyvictorious side to-day. And now, though I were fain if thou wouldstnever leave me, yet needs must thou go about thy work, since thou artbecome the Alderman of the Folk of Silver-dale. Yea, and even ifthou 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 leecheshave told me, that the fever is a-coming on me; so that presently Ishall not know thee, but may deem thee to be a woman, or a hound, orthe very Wolf that is the image of the Father of thy kindred; oreven, 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 witnessthat I bid thee carry me to bale in Silver-dale, and lay mine asheswith the ashes of thy Fathers, with whom thine own shall mingle atthe last, since I have been of the warriors who have helped to bringthee aback to the land of thy folk. '

Then she smiled and shut her eyes and said: 'And if I live, asindeed I hope, and how glad and glad I shall be to live, then shaltthou bring me to thy house and thy bed, that I may not depart fromthee while both our lives last. '

And she opened her eyes and looked at him; and he might not speak fora while, so ravished as he was betwixt joy and sorrow. But theAlderman 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 minearm betwixt the Folk and the God in all man-motes, and I bore itthrough the battle to-day; and it is as holy a ring as may be; andsince ye are plighting troth, and I am the witness thereof, it weregood 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 havethis woman happy. '

So Folk-might took the ring and thrust his hand through it, and tookher hand, and said:

'Ye Fathers, thou God of the Face, thou Earth-god, thou Warrior, bearwitness that my life and my body are plighted to this woman, theBride of the House of the Steer!'

His face was flushed and bright as he spoke, but as his words ceasedhe noted how feebly her hand lay in his, and his face fell, and hegazed on her timidly. But she lay quiet, and said softly and slowly:

'O Fathers of my kindred! O Warrior and God of the Earth! bearwitness that I plight my troth to this man, to lie in his grave if Idie, and in his bed if I live. '

And she smiled on him again, and then closed her eyes; but openedthem 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: heis a great chieftain. '

She said: 'Wilt thou give him this message from me, that in no wisehe forget the oath which he swore upon the finger-ring as it lay onthe sundial of the Garden of the Face? And say, moreover, that I amsorry 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 hisheart he rejoiced, because he heard her speak as if she were sure oflife. Then she said faintly:

'It is now thy work to depart from me, and to do as it behoveth achieftain 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 embracedIron-face, and went his ways without looking back. 

But just over the threshold he met old Hall-ward of the House of theSteer, who was at point to enter, and he greeted him kindly. The oldman looked on him steadily, and said: 'To-morrow or the day after Iwill 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 thechiefs come back from their meat, and were sitting with him; therealso were Wood-father and Wood-wont; but Bow-may was with the Sun-beam, who was resting softly in the fair meadow after all theturmoil. 

So men made place for Folk-might beside the War-leader, who lookedupon his face, and saw that it was sober and unsmiling, but not heavyor moody with grief. So he deemed that all was as well as it mightbe with the Bride, and with a good heart fell to taking counsel withthe others; and kindly and friendly were the redes which they heldthere, with no gainsaying of man by man, for the whole folk was gladat heart. 

So there they ordered all matters duly for that present time, and bythen they had made an end, it was past sunset, and men were lodged inthe chief houses about the Market-stead. 

Albeit, though they ate their meat with all joy of heart, and weremerry in converse one with the other, the men of the Wolf would by nomeans feast in their Hall again till it had been cleansed andhallowed 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 withalwhat was left of the bodies of the four chieftains of the GreatUndoing. They brought them into a most fair meadow to the west ofSilver-stead, where they had piled up a very great bale for theburning. In that meadow was the Doom-ring and Thing-stead of theFolk of the Wolf, and they had hallowed it when they had firstconquered Silver-dale, and it was deemed far holier than the Mote-house aforesaid, wherein the men of the kindred might hold no duecourt; but rather it was a Feast-hall, and a house where men hadconverse together, and wherein precious things and tokens of theFathers were stored up. 

The Thing-stead in the meadow was flowery and well-grassed, and alittle stream winding about thereby nearly cast a ring around it; andbeyond the stream was a full fair grove of oak-trees, very tall andancient. There then they burned the dead of the Host, wrapped aboutin exceeding fair raiment. And when the ashes were gathered, the menof Burgdale and the Shepherds left those of their folk for thekindred to bury there in Silver-dale; for they said that they had aright to claim such guesting for them that had helped to win back theDale. 

But when the Burning was done and the bale quenched, and the ashesgathered and buried (and that was on the morrow), then men bore forththe Banners of the Jaws of the Wolf, and the Red Hand, and the SilverArm, and the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged Sword, and the Wolf of theWoodland; and with great joy and triumph they brought them into theMote-house and hung them up over the dais; and they kindled fire onthe Holy Hearth by holding up a disk of bright glass to the sun; andthen they sang before the banners. And this is somewhat of the songthat 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 seeThe 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 menfrom end to end of the Dale; and the delivered thralls were feastedand made much of by the kindreds, so that they scarce knew how tobelieve 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 wasthere enough and to spare of goods stored up for the Dusky Men, ascorn and wine and oil and spices, and raiment and silver. Horseswere there also, and neat and sheep and swine in abundance. Withalthere was the good and dear land; the waxing corn on the acres; theblossoming vines on the hillside; and about the orchards andalongside the ways, the plum-trees and cherry-trees and pear-treesthat had cast their blossom and were overhung with little youngfruit; and the fair apple-trees a-blossoming, and the chestnutsspreading their boughs from their twisted trunks over the greengrass. And there was the goodly pasture for the horses and the neat, and the thymy hill-grass for the sheep; and beyond it all, thethicket of the great wood, with its unfailing store of goodly timberof ash and oak and holly and yoke-elm. There need no man lack unlessman compelled him, and all was rich enough and wide enough for thewaxing of a very great folk. 

Now, therefore, men betook them to what was their own before thecoming of the Dusky Men; and though at first many of the deliveredthrall-folk feasted somewhat above measure, and though there weresome of them who were not very brisk at working on the earth fortheir livelihood; yet were the most part of them quick of wit anddeft of hand, and they mostly fell to presently at their cunning, both of husbandry and handicraft. Moreover, they had great love ofthe kindreds, and especially of the Woodlanders, and strove to do allthings that might pleasure them. And as for those who were dull andlistless because of their many torments of the last ten years, theywould at least fetch and carry willingly for them of the kindreds;and these last grudged them not meat and raiment and house-room, evenif they wrought but little for it, because they called to mind theevil days of their thralldom, and bethought them how few are men'sdays upon the earth. 

Thus all things throve in Silver-dale, and the days wore on towardthe summer, and the Yule-tide rest beyond it, and the years beyondand 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 hostabode in Silver-dale in great mirth and good liking, till they shouldhear tidings of Dallach and his company, who had followed hot-foot onthe 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 sunsetunder a great oak-tree by that stream-side which ran through theMote-stead; there also was Folk-might, somewhat distraught because ofhis love for the Bride, who was now mending of her hurts. As theysat there in all content they saw folk coming toward them, three innumber, and as they drew nigher they saw that it was old Hall-ward ofthe 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 himover the stepping-stones; which she did as one who loved him, as theold man was stark enough to have waded the water waist-deep. She wasno longer in her war-gear, but was clad after her wont of ShadowyVale, in nought but a white woollen kirtle. So she stood in thestream beside the stones, and let the swift water ripple up over herankles, while the elder leaned on her shoulder and looked down uponher kindly. The Sun-beam followed after them, stepping daintily fromstone to stone, so that she was a fair sight to see; her face wassmiling and happy, and as she stepped forth on to the green grass thecolour flushed up in it, but she cast her eyes adown as one somewhatshamefaced. 

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 kissedhim 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 downagain; but the Sun-beam leaned her back against a sapling ash hardby, her feet set close together; and Bow-may went to and fro in shortturns, 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 goodthat I find my kinsmen of the Face in thy company; for I would say aword to thee that concerns them somewhat. '

Said Folk-might: 'Guest, and warrior of the Steer, thy words areever good; and if this time thou comest to ask aught of me, thenshall they be better than good. '

Said Hall-ward: 'Tell me, Folk-might, hast thou seen my daughter theBride 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 toBurgdale: when deemest thou that the Bride may travel, if it werebut 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 tojourney to Burgdale at present. '

'Thinkest thou?' said Hall-ward; 'hast thou a mind then that if shegoeth 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 yeStone-face and Hall-face, and thou, Face-of-god, my brother, to laythy words to mine in this matter. '

Then said Hall-ward stroking his beard: 'There will be a seatmissing in the Hall of the Steer, and a sore lack in the heart ofmany a man in Burgdale if the Bride come back to us no more. Welooked not to lose the maiden by her wedding; for it is no long waybetwixt 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 andwalk down the street of Burgstead; for I shall say, The Maiden hathgone to see Iron-face my friend; she is well in the House of theFace. And then shall I remember how that the wood and the wastes liebetween 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, Nowwill 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; whatgift wilt thou give us for the maiden?'

Said Folk-might: 'Whatever is mine shall be thine; and whatsoever ofthe Dale the kindred and the poor folk begrudge thee not, that shaltthou have; and deemest thou that they will begrudge thee aught? Isit enough?'

Hall-ward said: 'I wot not, chieftain; see thou to it! Bow-may, myfriend, bring hither that which I would have from Silver-dale for theHouse of the Steer in payment for our maiden. '

Then Bow-may came forward speedily, and went up to the Sun-beam, andled her by the hand in front of Folk-might and Hall-ward and theother chieftains. Then Folk-might started, and leapt up from theground; for, sooth to say, he had been thinking so wholly of theBride, that his sister was not in his mind, and he had had no deemingof whither Hall-ward was coming, though the others guessed wellenough, and now smiled on him merrily, when they saw how wild Folk-might stared. As for the Sun-beam, she stood there blushing like arose 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 maidenthe Bride away from us, I ask thee to make good her place with thismaiden; so that the House of the Steer may not lack, when they whoare wont to wed therein come to us and pray us for a bedfellow forthe best of their kindred. '

Then became Folk-might smiling and merry like unto the others, and hesaid: 'Chief of the Steer, this gift is thine, together with aughtelse which thou mayst desire of us. '

Then he kissed the Sun-beam, and said: 'Sister, we looked for thisto befall in some fashion. Yet we deemed that he that should leadthee away might abide with us for a moon or two. But now let allthis be, since if thou art not to bear children to the kindreds ofSilver-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 thymemory. '

She said: 'The memory of my people shall not fade from me; yetindeed I ask thee for a gift, to wit, Bow-may, and the two sons ofWood-father that are left since Wood-wicked was slain; and belike theelder and his wife will be fain to go with their sons, and ye willnot hinder them. '

'Even so shall it be done, ' said Folk-might, and he was silent awhile, pondering; and then he said:

'Lo you, friends! doth it not seem strange to you that peacesundereth as well as war? Indeed I deem it grievous that ye shallhave to miss your well-beloved kinswoman. And for me, I am now grownso used to this woman my sister, though at whiles she hath beenmasterful with me, that I shall often turn about and think to speakto her, when there lie long days of wood and waste betwixt her voiceand 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 isshorter 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 yelearned last autumn. '

Iron-face smiled, but somewhat sadly; for he beheld Face-of-god, whohad no eyes for anyone save the Sun-beam; and no marvel was that, fornever had she looked fairer. And forsooth the War-leader was notutterly well-pleased; for he was deeming that there would be delayingof his wedding, now that the Sun-beam was to become a maid of theSteer; and in his mind he half deemed that it would be better if hewere 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 adeeming of his thought. Albeit he knew it might not be, that he, thechosen War-leader, should trouble the peace of the kindred; for hewotted 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, andlead her into the House of the Steer, to be in all ways one of themaidens of our House, and to wed in the blood wherein we have beenwont to wed. Neither from henceforth let anyone say that this womanis 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 turnedtoward 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 womanin the world? By how much is this one fairer than my dear daughterwho shall no more dwell in mine house?'

Said Face-of-god: 'Yea, father, I shall keep mine oath; for theGods, who know much, know that when I swore last Yule I was thinkingof the fair woman going yonder beside Hall-ward, and of none other. '

'Ah, son!' said Iron-face, 'why didst thou beguile us? Hadst thoubut told us the truth then!'

'Yea, Alderman, ' said Face-of-god smiling, 'and how thou wouldesthave 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 oneagainst the world. Yea, yea; and even that was sweet to me, sosorely as I loved her--Hast thou forgotten, father?'

Iron-face smiled, and answered not; and so came they to the housewherein they were guested. 

CHAPTER LIV. TIDINGS OF DALLACH: A FOLK-MOTE IN SILVER-DALE

Three days thereafter came two swift runners from Rose-dale withtidings of Dallach. In all wise had he thriven, and had slain manyof the runaways, and had come happily to Rose-dale: therein by themere shaking of their swords had they all their will; for there werebut a few of the Dusky Warriors in the Dale, since the more part hadfared to the slaughter in Silver-stead. Now therefore had Dallachbeen made Alderman of Rose-dale; and the Burgdalers who had gone withhim 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 butthat many of the Dusky Men had escaped to the woods, and should yetbe 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 tolook toward home, albeit some amongst them had not been ill-pleasedto abide there yet a while; for life was exceeding soft to themthere, 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 tothem as might be. Forsooth not a few, both carles and queens, of theold thrall-folk prayed them of Burgdale to take them home thither, that they might see new things and forget their old torments once forall, yea, even in dreams. The Burgdalers would not gainsay them, andthere was no one else to hinder; so that there went with the Burgdalemen at their departure hard on five score of the Silver-dale folk whowere not of the kindreds. 

And now was a great Folk-mote holden in Silver-dale, whereto theBurgdale men and the Shepherds were bidden; and thereat the War-leader gave out the morrow of the morrow for the day of the departureof the Host. There also were the matters of Silver-dale dulyordered: the Men of the Wolf would have had the Woodlanders dwellwith them in the fair-builded stead, and take to them of the goodlystone houses there what they would; but this they naysaid, choosingrather to dwell in scattered houses, which they built for themselvesat the utmost limit of the tillage. 

Indeed, the most abode not even there a long while; for they lovedthe wood and its deeds. So they went forth into the wood, andcleared them space to dwell in, and builded them halls such as theyloved, and fell to their old woodland crafts of charcoal-burning andhunting, wherein they throve well. And good for Silver-dale wastheir abiding there, since they became a sure defence and stoutoutpost against all foemen. For the rest, wheresoever they dwelt, they were guest-cherishing and blithe, and were well beloved by allpeople; and they wedded with the other Houses of the Children of theWolf. 

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 learningof the delivered thralls to handle weapons duly. For men deemed itmost like that they would have to meet other men of the kindred ofthe Felons; which indeed fell out as the years wore. 

Moreover, Folk-might (by the rede of Stone-face) sent messengers tothe Plain and the Cities, unto men whom he knew there, doing them towit of the tidings of Silver-dale, and how that a peaceful and guest-loving people, having good store of wares, now dwelt therein, so thatchapmen might have recourse thither. 

Lastly spake Folk-might and said:

'Guests and brothers-in-arms, we have been looking about our newhouse, which was our old one, and therein we find great store ofwares which we need not, and which we can but use if ye use them. Ofyour kindness therefore we pray you to take of those things what yecan 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 onto 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 theWolf, be it known unto you, that if we have done anything for yourhelp in the winning of Silver-dale, we have thus done that we mighthelp ourselves also, so that we might live in peace henceforward, andthat we might have your friendship and fellowship therewithal, sothat here in Silver-dale might wax a mighty folk who joined unto usshould be strong enough to face the whole world. Such are the redesof wise men when they go a-warring. But we have no will to go backhome again made rich with your wealth; this hath been far from ourthought in this matter. '

And there went up a murmur from all the Burgdalers yeasaying hisword. 

But Folk-might took up the word again and spake:

'Men of Burgdale and the Sheepcotes, what ye say is both manly andfriendly; yet, since we look to see a road made plain through thewoodland betwixt Burgdale and Silver-dale, and that often ye shallface us in the feast-hall, and whiles stand beside us in the fray, wemust needs pray you not to shame us by departing empty-handed; forhow 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, andspeak for us to thy kindred, that they naysay us not in this matter. '

Then stood up Stone-face and said: 'Forsooth, friends, Folk-might isin the right herein; for he may look for anger from the wights thatcome and go betwixt his kindred and the Gods, if they see us faringback giftless through the woods. Moreover, now that ye have seenSilver-dale, ye may wot how rich a land it is of all good things, andable to bring forth enough and to spare. And now meseemeth the Godslove this Folk that shall dwell here; and they shall become a mightyFolk, and a part of our very selves. Therefore let us take the giftsof our friends, and thank them blithely. For surely, as saith Folk-might, henceforth the wood shall become a road betwixt us, and thethicket a halting-place for friends bearing goodwill in their hands. '

When he had spoken, men yeasaid his words and forbore the gifts nolonger; 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 theShepherds gathered together in the Market-stead early in the morning, and they were all ready for departure; and the men of the Wolf andthe Woodlanders, and of the delivered thralls a great many, stoodround about them grieving that they must go. There was much talkbetween the folk of the Dale and the Guests, and many promises weregiven and taken to come and go betwixt the two Dales. There alsowere the men of the thrall-folk who were to wend home with theBurgdalers; and they had been stuffed with good things by the men ofthe kindreds, and were as fain as might be. 

As for the Sun-beam, she was somewhat out of herself at first, beingeager and restless beyond her wont, and yet at whiles weeping-ripewhen 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 forthese 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 cameover her that she herself had done her full share to bring all thisabout, and that all those pleasant places of Silver-dale now full ofthe goodly life of man would be there even as she had striven forthem, and that they would be a part of her left behind, though shewere dwelling otherwhere. 

Therewithal she said to herself that it was now her part to wield thelife of men in Burgdale, and begin once more her days of a chieftainand a swayer of the Folk, and the life of a stirring woman, which theedge of the sword and the need of the hard hand-play had taken out ofher hands for a while, making her as a child in the hands of thestrong wielders of the blades. 

So now she became calm once more, and her face was clad again withthe full measure of that majesty of beauty which had once overawedFace-of-god amidst his love of her; and folk beheld her and marvelledat her fairness, and said: 'She hath an inward sorrow at leaving thefair Dale wherein her Fathers dwelt, and where her mother's ashes liein earth. ' Albeit now was her sorrow but little, and much was herhope, 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 eachstone of the fair houses, was to her as a picture that she could lookon from henceforth for ever. 

Of the Bride it is to be said that she was now much mended, and shecaused men bear her on a litter out into the Marketplace, that shemight look on the departure of her folk. She had seen Face-of-godonce and again since the Day of Battle, and each time had been kindand blithe with him; and for Iron-face, she loved him so well thatshe was ever loth to let him depart from her, save when Folk-mightwas 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 mustneeds abide behind, and am content to abide, yet doth mine heart achewith the sundering; for to-morrow when I wake in the morning therewill 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 hathcome between us to mar it. Now, kinsman, I would see Gold-mane, mycousin, that I may bid him farewell; for who knoweth if I shall seehim again hereafter?'

Then went Iron-face and found Face-of-god where he was speaking withFolk-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 withhis father silently; and his heart beat as he came and stood beforethe litter whereas the Bride lay, clad all in white and propped up onfair cushions of red silk. She was frail to look on, and worn andpale 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, andwas nigh weeping, so sore was he beset by a throng of memoriesconcerning her and him in the days when they were little; and hebethought him of her loving-kindness of past days, beyond that ofmost children, beyond that of most maidens; and how there was nothingin his life but she had a share in it, till the day when he found theHall 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 thatI am sorry of the sundering betwixt me and Burgdale. '

Again was he silent, and said in a while: 'Dost thou deem that Iwrought that sundering?'

She smiled kindly on him and said: 'Gold-mane, my playmate, thou artbecome a mighty warrior and a great chief; but thou art not so mightyas that. Many things lay behind the sundering which were neitherthou nor I. '

'Yet, ' said he, 'it was but such a little time agone that all thingsseemed so sure; and we--to both of us was the outlook happy. '

'Let it be happy still, ' she said, 'now begrudging is gone. Belikethe sundering came because we were so sure, and had no defenceagainst the wearing of the days; even as it fareth with a folk thathath no foes. '

He smiled and said: 'Even as it hath befallen THY folk, O Bride, awhile ago. '

She reddened, and reached her hand to him, and he took it and heldit, and said: 'Shall I see thee again as the days wear?'

Said she: 'O chieftain of the Folk, thou shalt have much to do inBurgdale, and the way is long. Yet would I have thee see mychildren. Forget not the token on my hand which thou holdest. Butnow 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 timethereof. Farewell!'

He said no more, but stooped down and kissed her lips, and thenturned from her, and took his ways to the head of the Host, and fellto asking and answering, and bidding and arraying; and in a littletime was his heart dancing with joy to think of the days that laybefore 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 bybullocks abiding the departure of the Host, and of sumpter bullocksand horses no few; and all these were laden with fair gifts of theDale, as silver, and raiment, and weapons. There were many thingsfair-wrought in the time of the Sorrow, that henceforth should seebut little sorrow. Moreover, there was plenty of provision for theway, both meal and wine, and sheep and neat; and all things as fairas might be, and well-arrayed. 

It was the Shepherds who were to lead the way; and after them werearrayed 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 oldStone-face leading them. The Sun-beam was to journey along with theHouse of the Steer, which had taken her in as a maiden of theirblood; and though she had so much liefer have fared with the House ofthe Face, yet she went meekly as she was bidden, as one who hasgotten a great thing, and will make no stir about a small one. 

Along with her were Wood-father and Wood-mother, and Wood-wise, nowwhole of his hurt, and Wood-wont, and Bow-may. Save Bow-may, theywere not very joyous; for they were fain of Silver-dale, and it irkedthem to leave it; moreover, they also had liefer have gone along withthe House of the War-leader. 

Last of all went those people of the once thralls of the Dusky Menwho had cast in their lot with the Burgdalers, and they wereexceeding merry; and especially the women of them, they werechattering like the stares in the autumn evening, when they gatherfrom 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 theirways down the Dale; albeit the Woodlanders clung close to the line oftheir ancient friends, and with them, as men who were sorry for thesundering, were Wolf-stone and God-swain and Spear-fist. But thechiefs, they drew around Folk-might a little beside the way. 

Now Red-coat of Waterless, who had been hurt, and was now wholeagain, cast his arms about Folk-might and kissed him, and said:

'All the way hence to Burgdale will I sow with good wishes for theeand thine, and especially for my dear friend God-swain of the SilverArm; and I would wish and long that they might turn into spells todraw thy feet to usward; for we love thee well. '

In like wise spake other of the Burgdalers; and Folk-might was kindand blithe with them, and he said:

'Friends, forget ye not that the way is no longer from you to us thanit is from us to you. One half of this matter it is for you to dealwith. '

'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 ourmeadows and acres; even now I bethink me that May is amidst us, and Iam beginning to be drawn by the thought of the haysel. Whereas thou--' (and therewith he reddened) 'I doubt that thou hast little to dosave the work of chieftains, and we know that such work is but littlemissed 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 notaltogether a chieftain, now we have gotten us peace; and somewhat ofa husbandman shall I be. Moreover, doubt ye not that I shall do myutmost to behold the fair Dale again; for it is but mountains thatmeet not. '

Now spake Face-of-god to Folk-might, smiling and somewhat softly, andsaid: 'Is all forgiven now, since the day when we first felt eachother's arms?'

'Yea, all, ' said Folk-might; 'now hath befallen what I foretold theein Shadowy Vale, that thou mightest pay for all that had come andgone, if thou wouldest but look to it. Indeed thou wert angry withme for that saying on that eve of Shadowy Vale; but see thou, inthose days I was an older man than thou, and might admonish theesomewhat; but now, though but few days have gone over thine head, yetmany deeds have abided in thine hand, and thou art much aged. Angerhath left thee, and wisdom hath waxed in thee. As for me, I may nowsay this word: May the Folk of Burgdale love the Folk of Silver-daleas well as I love thee; then shall all be well. '

Then Face-of-god cast his arms about him and kissed him, and turnedaway toward Stone-face and Hall-face his brother, where they stood atthe head of the array of the Face; and even therewith came up theAlderman somewhat sad and sober of countenance, and he pushed by theWar-leader roughly and would not speak with him. 

And now blew up the horns of the Shepherds, and they began to move onamidst the shouting of the men of Silver-dale; yet were there amongstthe Woodlanders those who wept when they saw their friends verilydeparting from them. 

But when they of the foremost of the Host were gotten so far forwardthat the men of the Face could begin to move, lo! there was Redesmanwith his fiddle amongst the leaders; and he had done a man's work inthe day of battle, and all looked kindly on him. About him on thismorn were some who had learned the craft of singing well together, and knew his minstrelsy, and he turned to these and nodded as theirarray moved on, and he drew his bow across the strings, andstraightway 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 flingTheir 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 thenames 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 upthe 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 downSilver-dale; and then Redesman handled his fiddle once more, andagain the song rose up, and such-like were the words which were borneback 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 aportion thereof, and had not utterly left it behind. And that nightthey lay in the wild-wood not very far from the Dale's end; for theywent 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-godleft his own folk to go with the House of the Steer a while; andamongst 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 theSun-beam as they went side by side through a great oak-wood, wherefor 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 thatwe shall never see Silver-dale again?'

She smiled: 'Even so I think thou deemest, Gold-mane. But manythings shall hinder us besides the long road. '

Said he: 'Yea, and what things?'

'Thinkest thou, ' said the Sun-beam, 'that the winning of Silver-steadis the last battle which thou shalt see?'

'Nay, ' said he, 'nay. '

'Shall thy Dale--our Dale--be free from all trouble within itselfhenceforward? Is there a wall built round it to keep out for everstorm, pestilence, and famine, and the waywardness of its own folk?'

'So it is as thou sayest, ' quoth Face-of-god, 'and to meet suchtroubles and overcome them, or to die in strife with them, this is agreat part of a man's life. '

'Yea, ' she said, 'and hast thou forgotten that thou art now a greatchieftain, and that the folk shall look to thee to use thee many daysin the year?'

He laughed and said: 'So it is. How many days have gone by since Iwandered in the wood last autumn, that the world should have changedso much!'

'Many deeds shall now be in thy days, ' she said, 'and each deed asthe corn of wheat from which cometh many corns; and a man's days onthe earth are not over many. '

'Then farewell, Silver-dale!' said he, waving his hand toward thenorth. 'War and trouble may bring me back to thee, but it maybenought else shall. Farewell!'

She looked on him fondly but unsmiling, as he went beside her strongand warrior-like. Three paces from him went Bow-may, barefoot, inher white kirtle, but bearing her bow in her hand; a leash of arrowswas in her girdle, her quiver hung at her back, and she was girt witha sword. On the other side went Wood-wont and Wood-wise, lightlyclad but weaponed. Wood-mother was riding in an ox-wain just behindthem, and Wood-father went beside her bearing an axe. Scattered allabout them were the men of the Steer, gaily clad, bearing weapons, sothat the oak-wood was bright with them, and the glades merry withtheir talk and singing and laughter, and before them down the gladeswent the banner of the Steer, and the White Beast led them thenearest way to Burgdale. 

CHAPTER LVII. HOW THE HOST CAME HOME AGAIN

It was fourteen days before they came to Rose-dale; for they had muchbaggage with them, and they had no mind to weary themselves, and thewood was nothing loathsome to them, whereas the weather was fair andbright 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 itseemed to them no great matter for a score or so of new-comers to theDale. 

But when the Host was come to Rose-dale, they found it fair aridlovely; and there they met with those of their folk who had gone withDallach. But Dallach welcomed the kindreds with great joy, and badethem abide; for he said that they had the less need to hasten, sincehe had sent messengers into Burgdale to tell men there of thetidings. Albeit they were mostly loth to tarry; yet when he lay hardon them not to depart as men on the morrow of a gild-feast, theyabode there three days, and were as well guested as might be, and ontheir 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 thechiefs of the Dalesmen, and said:

'Ye have given me much from the time when ye found me in the wood anaked wastrel; yet now I would ask you a gift to lay on the top ofall that ye have given me. '

Said Face-of-god: 'Name the gift, and thou shalt have it; for wedeem thee our friend. '

'I am no less, ' said Dallach, 'as in time to come I may perchance beable to show you. But now I am asking you to suffer a score or twoof your men to abide here with me this summer, till I see how thisfolk new-born again is like to deal with me. For pleasure and a fairlife have become so strange to them, that they scarce know what to dowith them, or how to live; and unless all is to go awry, I must needscommand and forbid; and though belike they love me, yet they fear menot; so that when my commandment pleaseth them, they do as I bid, andwhen it pleaseth them not, they do contrary to my bidding; for ithath got into their minds that I shall in no case lift a hand againstthem, which indeed is the very sooth. But your folk they fear aswarriors 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 whowill do as their friend biddeth (think our folk) against them who areneither friends or foes. With such help I shall be well holpen. '

In such wise spake Dallach; and Face-of-god and the chiefs said thatso it should be, if men could be found willing to abide in Rose-dalefor a while. And when the matter was put abroad, there was no lackof such men amongst the younger warriors, who had noted that the dalewas fair amongst dales and its women fairer yet amongst women. 

So two score and ten of the Burgdale men abode in Rose-dale, no oneof whom was of more than twenty and five winters. Forsooth divers ofthem set up house in Rose-dale, and never came back to Burgdale, saveas guests. For a half score were wedded in Rose-dale before theyear's ending; and seven more, who had also taken to them wives ofthe goodliest of the Rose-dale women, betook them the next spring tothe Burg of the Runaways, and there built them a stead, and drew agarth about it, and dug and sowed the banks of the river, which theycalled Inglebourne. And as years passed, this same stead throveexceedingly, and men resorted thither both from Rose-dale andBurgdale; for it was a pleasant place; and the land, when it wascured, was sweet and good, and the wood thereabout was full of deerof all kinds. So their stead was called Inglebourne after thestream; and in latter days it became a very goodly habitation of men. 

Moreover, some of the once-enthralled folk of Rose-dale, when theyknew that men of their kindred from Silver-dale were going home withthe men of Burgdale to dwell in the Dale, prayed hard to go alongwith them; for they looked on the Burgdalers as if they were new Godsof the Earth. The Burgdale chiefs would not gainsay these meneither, but took with them three score and ten from Rose-dale, menand women, and promised them dwelling and livelihood in Burgdale. 

So now with good hearts the Host of Burgdale turned their facestoward their well-beloved Dale; and they made good diligence, so thatin three days' time they were come anigh the edge of the woodlandwilderness. Thither in the even-tide, as they were making ready fortheir last supper and bed in the wood, came three men and two womenof their folk, who had been abiding their coming ever since they hadhad the tidings of Silver-dale and the battles from Dallach. Greatwas the joy of these messengers as they went from company to companyof the warriors, and saw the familiar faces of their friends, andheard their wonted voices telling all the story of battle andslaughter. And for their part the men of the Host feasted thesestay-at-homes, and made much of them. But one of them, a man of theHouse of the Face, left the Host a little after nightfall, and boreback 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, thedwellers in the steads of the country-side had left Burgstead andgone home to their own houses; so that there was no great multitudeabiding in the Thorp. 

So early on the morrow was the Host astir; but ere they came toWildlake's Way, the Shepherd-folk turned aside westward to go home, after they had bidden farewell to their friends and fellows of theDale; for their souls longed for the sheepcotes in the windingvalleys under the long grey downs; and the garths where the lastyear's ricks shouldered up against the old stone gables, and wherethe daws were busy in the tall unfrequent ash-trees; and the greenflowery meadows adown along the bright streams, where the crowfootand the paigles were blooming now, and the harebells were in flowerabout the thorn-bushes at the down's foot, whence went the savour oftheir blossom over sheep-walk and water-meadow. 

So these went their ways with many kind words; and two hoursafterwards all the rest of the Host stood on the level ground of thePortway; but presently were the ranks of war disordered and broken upby the joy of the women and children, as they fell to drawing goodmanor brother or lover out of the throng to the way that led speediestto their homesteads and halls. For the War-leader would not hold theHost together any longer, but suffered each man to go to his home, deeming that the men of Burgstead, and chiefly they of the Face andthe Steer, would suffice for a company if any need were, and theywould be easily gathered to meet any hap. 

So now the men of the Middle and Lower Dale made for their houses bythe road and the lanes and the meadows, and the men of the Upper Daleand 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 laybefore them; and it was, as it were, made giddy and cumbered with theexceeding joy of return, and the thought of the day when the fear ofdeath and sundering had been ever in their hearts. For these newhours were full of the kissing and embracing of lovers, and thesweetness of renewed delight in beholding the fair bodies so sorelydesired, and hearkening the soft wheedling of longed-for voices. There were the cups of friends beneath the chestnut trees, and thetalk of the deeds of the fighting-men, and of the heavy days of thehome-abiders; many a tale told oft and o'er again. There was thesinging of old songs and of new, and the beholding the well-lovednook of the pleasant places, which death might well have made noughtfor 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 folkwere weary with the fulness of delight, yet now for many theirweariness led them to the chamber of love before the rest of deepnight came to them to make them strong for the happy life to be begunagain on the morrow. 

House by house they feasted, and few were the lovers that sat nottogether that even. But Face-of-god and the Sun-beam parted at thedoor of the House of the Face; for needs must she go with her newfolk to the House of the Steer, and needs must Face-of-god be amongsthis own folk in that hour of high-tide, and sit beside his fatherbeneath 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 thevery morrow of men's home-coming they began to talk eagerly of theMidsummer Weddings, and how the Maiden Ward would be the greatest andfairest of all yet seen, whereas battle and the deliverance frombattle stir up the longing and love both of men and maidens; muchalso men spake of the wedding of Face-of-god and the Sun-beam; andneeds must their wedding abide to the time of the Maiden Ward atMidsummer, and needs also must the Sun-beam go on the Ward with theother Brides of the Folk. So then must Face-of-god keep his soul inpatience 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 ofevery man. 

In all matters the Sun-beam helped him, both in doing and inforbearing; and now so wonderful and rare was her beauty, that folklooked on her with somewhat of fear, as though she came from the veryfolk 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 fewwords she was and little laughter; but her face clear, not overcastby any gloom or shaken by passion: soft and kind was she in conversewith others, and sweet were the smiles that came into her face ifothers' faces seemed to crave for them. For it must be said that assome folk eat out their hearts with fear of the coming evils, even sowas she feeding her soul with the joy of the days to be, whatevertrouble might fall upon them, whereof belike she foreboded some. 

So wore the days toward Midsummer, when the wheat was getting pastthe blossoming, and the grass in the mown fields was growing deepgreen again after the shearing of the scythe; when the leaves weremost and biggest; when the roses were beginning to fall; when theapples were reddening, and the skins of the grape-berries gatheringbloom. High aloft floated the light clouds over the Dale; deep blueshowed the distant fells below the ice-mountains; the watersdwindled; all things sought the shadow by daytime, and the twilightof even and the twilight of dawn were but sundered by three hours ofhalf-dark night. 

So in the bright forenoon were seventeen brides assembled in the Gateof Burgstead (but of the rest of the Dale were twenty and threelooked for), and with these was the Sun-beam, her face as calm as themountain lake under a summer sunset, while of the others many wererestless, and babbling like April throstles; and not a few talked toher eagerly, and in their restless love of her dragged her abouthither and thither. 

No men were to be seen that morning; for such was the custom, thatthe carles either departed to the fields and the acres, or abodewithin doors on the morn of the day of the Maiden Ward; but there wasa 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 onthe causeway, whereto were come already the other brides from steadsup and down the Dale, or were even then close at hand on the way; andamong them were Long-coat and her two fellows, with whom Face-of-godhad held converse on that morning whereon he had followed his fate tothe 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 greenboughs to shelter them from the sun's burning, which were thatchedwith bulrushes, and decked with garlands of the fairest flowers ofthe meadows and the gardens. 

Forsooth they were a lovely sight to look on, for no fairer womenmight be seen in the world; and the eldest of them was scant of fiveand twenty winters. Every maiden was clad in as goodly raiment asshe 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 customevery maiden bore some weapon. A few had bows in their hands andquivers at their backs; some had nought but a sword girt to theirsides; some bore slender-shafted spears, so as not to overburdentheir shapely hands; but to some it seemed a merry game to carry longand heavy thrust-spears, or to bear great war-axes over theirshoulders. Most had their flowing hair coifed with bright helms;some had burdened their arms with shields; some bore steel hauberksover their linen smocks: almost all had some piece of war-gear ontheir bodies; and one, to wit, Steed-linden of the Sickle, a tall andfair damsel, was so arrayed that no garment could be seen on her butbright steel war-gear. 

As for the Sun-beam, she was clad in a white kirtle embroidered fromthroat to hem with work of green boughs and flowers of the goodliestfashion, and a garland of roses on her head. Dale-warden himself wasgirt to her side by a girdle fair-wrought of golden wire, and shebore no other weapon or war-gear; and she let him lie quiet in hisscabbard, nor touched the hilts once; whereas some of the otherdamsels would be ever drawing their swords out and thrusting themback. But all noted that goodly weapon, the yoke-fellow of so manygreat deeds. 

There then on the Portway, between the water and the rock-wall, roseup plenteous and gleeful talk of clear voices shrill and soft; andwhiles the maidens sang, and whiles they told tales of old days, andwhiles they joined hands and danced together on the sweet summer dustof the highway. Then they mostly grew aweary, and sat down on thebanks of the road or under their leafy bowers. 

Noon came, and therewithal goodwives of the neighbouring Dale, whobrought them meat and drink, and fruit and fresh flowers from theteeming gardens; and thereafter for a while they nursed their joy intheir bosoms, and spake but little and softly while the day was atits hottest in the early afternoon. 

Then came out of Burgstead men making semblance of chapmen with awain bearing wares, and they made as though they were wending downthe Portway westward to go out of the Dale. Then arose the weaponedmaidens and barred the way to them, and turned them back amidstfresh-springing merriment. 

Again in a while, when the sun was westering and the shadows growinglong, came herdsmen from down the Dale driving neat, and making asthough they would pass by into Burgstead, but to them also did themaidens gainsay the road, so that needs must they turn back amidstlaughter and mockery, they themselves also laughing and mocking. 

And so at last, when the maidens had been all alone a while, and itwas now hard on sunset, they drew together and stood in a ring, andfell to singing; and one Gold-may of the House of the Bridge, a mostsweet singer, stood amidst their ring and led them. And this issomewhat 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 behestThat 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 winAre the Dale for our living and dear days therein. 

O Sun, now thou wanest! yet come back and seeAmidst 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 worseThan 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 diedIn 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 theeve was still about them, though there came a happy murmur from theface of the meadows and the houses of the Thorp aloof. But as theirsong fell they heard the sound of footsteps a many on the road; sothey turned and stood with beating hearts in such order as when aband of the valiant draw together to meet many foes coming on themfrom all sides, and they stand back to back to face all comers. Andeven therewith, their raiment gleaming amidst the gathering dusk, came on them the young men of the Dale newly delivered from the griefof war. 

Then in very deed the fierce mouths of the raisers of the war-shoutwere kind on the faces of tender maidens. Then went spear and axeand 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 longday of sunshine, and glee and loving speech, and the maidens sufferedthe young men to lead them whither they would, and twilight began todraw round about them as the Maiden Band was sundered. 

Some, they were led away westward down the Portway to the homesteadsthereabout; and for divers of these the way was long to their halls, and they would have to wend over long stretches of dewy meadows, andhear the night-wind whisper in many a tree, and see the east begin tolighten with the dawn before they came to the lighted feast thatawaited them. But some turned up the Portway straight towardsBurgstead; and short was their road to the halls where even now thelights were being kindled for their greeting. 

As for the Sun-beam, she had been very quiet the day long, speakingas little as she might do, laughing not at all, and smiling forkindness' sake rather than for merriment; and when the grooms cameseeking their maidens, she withdrew herself from the band, and stoodalone amidst the road nigher to Burgstead than they; and her heartbeat hard, and her breath came short and quick, as though fear hadcaught her in its grip; and indeed for one moment of time she fearedthat he was not coming to her. For he had gone with the other groomsto that gathered band, and had passed from one to the other, notfinding her, till he had got him through the whole company, andbeheld her awaiting him. Then indeed he bounded toward her, andcaught her by the hands, and then by the shoulders, and drew her tohim, 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 thehalls of their houses; and for thee have I chosen a way--a way overthe foot-bridge yonder, and over the dewy meadows on this best evenof the year. '

'Nay, nay, ' she said, 'it may not be. Surely the Burgstead groomslook to thee to lead them to the gate; and surely in the House of theFace they look to see thee before any other. Nay, Gold-mane, mydear, 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, mysweet! When we are in the meadows we shall sit down for a minute ona bank under the chestnut trees, and thence watch the moon coming upover the southern cliffs. And I shall behold thee in the summernight, and deem that I see all thy beauty; which yet shall make medumb with wonder when I see it indeed in the house amongst thecandles. '

'O nay, ' she said, 'by the Portway shall we go; the torch-bearersshall be abiding thee at the gate. '

Spake Face-of-god: 'Then shall we rise up and wend first through awide treeless meadow, wherein amidst the night we shall behold thekine moving about like odorous shadows; and through the greyness ofthe moonlight thou shalt deem that thou seest the pink colour of theeglantine 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 ofcorn, and then into an orchard-close beyond it. There in the ancientwalnut-tree the owl sitteth breathing hard in the night-time; butthou shalt not hear him for the joy of the nightingales singing fromthe apple-trees of the close. Then from out of the shadowed orchardshall we come into the open town-meadow, and over its daisies shallthe moonlight be lying in a grey flood of brightness. 

'Short is the way across it to the brim of the Weltering Water, andacross the water lieth the fair garden of the Face; and I have dightfor thee there a little boat to waft us across the night-dark waters, that shall be like wavering flames of white fire where the moonsmites them, and like the void of all things where the shadows hangover them. There then shall we be in the garden, beholding how thehall-windows are yellow, and hearkening the sound of the hall-gleeborne across the flowers and blending with the voice of thenightingales in the trees. There then shall we go along the grasspaths whereby the pinks and the cloves and the lavender are sendingforth their fragrance, to cheer us, who faint at the scent of theover-worn roses, and the honey-sweetness of the lilies. 

'All this is for thee, and for nought but for thee this even; andmany a blossom whereof thou knowest nought shall grieve if thy foottread not thereby to-night; if the path of thy wedding which I havemade, 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 forthee, 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 shallwe come to a wicket, which shall bring us out by the gable-end of theHall of the Face. Turn we about its corner then, and there are weblinking on the torches of the torch-bearers, and the candles throughthe open door, and the hall ablaze with light and full of joyousclamour, like the bale-fire in the dark night kindled on a ness abovethe sea by fisher-folk remembering the Gods. '

'O nay, ' she said, 'but by the Portway must we go; the straightestway to the Gate of Burgstead. '

In vain she spake, and knew not what she said; for even as he wasspeaking he led her away, and her feet went as her will went, ratherthan her words; and even as she said that last word she set her footon the first board of the foot-bridge; and she turned aback onemoment, and saw the long line of the rock-wall yet glowing with thelast of the sunset of midsummer, while as she turned again, lo!before her the moon just beginning to lift himself above the edge ofthe 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 throughthe closes and into the garden of the Face and unto the Hall-door;and other brides and grooms were there before them (for six groomshad brought home brides to the House of the Face); but none deemed itamiss 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 thegardens of the Dale that we should begrudge wayward lovers an hour'swaste of candle-light. '

So at last those twain went up the sun-bright Hall hand in hand inall their loveliness, and up on to the dais, and stood together bythe middle seat; and the tumult of the joy of the kindred was hushedfor a while as they saw that there was speech in the mouth of theWar-leader. 

Then he spread his hands abroad before them all and cried out: 'Howthen have I kept mine oath, whereas I swore on the Holy Boar to wedthe fairest woman of the world?'

A mighty shout went rattling about the timbers of the roof in answerto his word; and they that looked up to the gable of the Hall saidthat they saw the ray-ringed image of the God smile with joy over thegathered folk. 

But spake Iron-face unheard amidst the clamour of the Hall: 'Howfares it now with my darling and my daughter, who dwelleth amongststrangers in the land beyond the wild-wood?'

CHAPTER LIX. THE BEHEST OF FACE-OF-GOD TO THE BRIDE ACCOMPLISHED: AMOTE-STEAD APPOINTED FOR THE THREE FOLKS, TO WIT, THE MEN OFBURGDALE, THE SHEPHERDS, AND THE CHILDREN OF THE WOLF

Three years and two months thereafter, three hours after noon in thedays of early autumn, came a wain tilted over with precious webs ofcloth, and drawn by eight white oxen, into the Market-place ofSilver-stead: two score and ten of spearmen of the tallest, clad ingoodly war-gear, went beside it, and much people of Silver-dalethronged about them. The wain stayed at the foot of the stair thatled up to the door of the Mote-house, and there lighted downtherefrom a woman goodly of fashion, with wide grey eyes, and faceand hands brown with the sun's burning. She had a helm on her headand a sword girt to her side, and in her arms she bore a yearlingchild. 

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 wasopen, and she went in and walked straight-way, with the babe in herarms, up the great Hall to the dais. 

There were men on the dais: amidmost sat Folk-might, little changedsince the last day she had seen him, yet fairer, she deemed, than ofold 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 shedrew near to him. 

By his side sat the Bride, and her also Bow-may deemed to have waxedgoodlier. Both she and Folk-might knew Bow-may ere she had gone halfthe length of the hall; and the Bride rose up in her place and criedout 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 asif they were awaiting the word which should send them forth on someerrand. 

Now stood up Folk-might and said: 'Fair greeting and love to myfriend and the daughter of my Folk! How farest thou, Bow-may, bestof all friendly women? How fareth my sister, and Face-of-god mybrother? and how is it with our friends and helpers in the goodlyDale?'

Said Bow-may: 'It is well both with all those and with me; and myheart laughs to see thee, Folk-might, and to look on the elders ofthe valiant, and our lovely sister the Bride. But I have a messagefor thee from Face-of-god: wilt thou that I deliver it here?'

'Yea surely, ' said Folk-might, and came forth. And took her hand, andkissed her cheeks and her mouth. The Bride also came forth and casther arms about her, and kissed her; and they led her between them toa 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 iton the knees of the Bride, and said:

'Thus saith Face-of-god: "Friend and kinswoman, well-belovedplaymate, the gift which thou badest of me in sorrow do thou now takein 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 thouto Bow-may, my trusty and well-beloved, in token of the fulfilment ofmy behest. "'

Then the Bride kissed Bow-may again, and fell to fondling of thechild, which was loth to leave Bow-may. 

But she spake again: 'To thee also, Folk-might, I have a messagefrom Face-of-god, who saith: "Mighty warrior, friend and fellow, allthings thrive with us, and we are happy. Yet is there a hollow placein our hearts which grieveth us, and only thou and thine may amendit. Though whiles we hear tell of thee, yet we see thee not, andfain 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 thelabour? For sure we be that thou wilt not say that thou rememberestus no more, and that thy love for us is departed. " This is hismessage, Folk-might, and he would have an answer from thee. '

Then laughed Folk-might and said: 'Sister Bow-may, seest thou theseweaponed men hereby?'

'Yea, ' she said. 

Said he: 'These men bear a message with them to Face-of-god mybrother. Crow the Shaft-speeder, stand forth and tell thy friendBow-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 andhelper, in the Dale which thou hast given to us do all things thrive;neither are we grown old in three years' wearing, nor are ourmemories worsened. We long sore to see you and give you guesting inSilver-dale, and one day that shall befall. Meanwhile, know this:that we of the Wolf and the Woodland, mindful of the earth that boreus, and the pit whence we were digged, have a mind to go see ShadowyVale once in every three years, and there to hold high-tide in theancient 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 givenus this Dale, our health and wealth, without price and withoutreward, 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 therebeside us. Come then, that we may rejoice each other by the sight offace and sound of voice; that we may speak together of matters thatconcern 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 Valein 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, forwell 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 folkhave the message and get to Shadowy Vale, so as to meet you there?'

'Yea surely, ' said Folk-might, 'for our kinsmen here shall take theroad through Shadowy Vale, and in four days' time they shall be inBurgdale, and as thou wottest, it is scant a two days' journey thenceto 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 Iknew in Shadowy Vale, who would have his dinner before the fowl wereplucked. For shall I not go back with these thy messengers, so thatI 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: 'SisterBow-may, his meaning is that thou shouldest abide here in Silver-daletill we depart for the Folk-thing, and then go thither with us; andthis I also pray thee to do, that thou mayst rejoice the hearts ofthine old friends; and also that thou mayst teach me all that Ishould 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 thoudwellest, O Bride of my Kinsman! And this that thou biddest me iseasy and pleasant for me to do. But afterwards I must get me back toBurgdale; for I seem to have left much there that calleth for me. '

'Yea, ' said Folk-might, 'and art thou wedded, Bow-may? Shalt thounever bend the yew in battle again?'

Said Bow-may soberly: 'Who knoweth, chieftain? Yea, I am wedded nowthese two years; and nought I looked for less when I followed thosetwain through the wild-wood to Burgdale. '

She sighed therewith, and said: 'In all the Dale there is no betterman of his hands than my man, nor any goodlier to look on, and he iseven that Hart of Highcliff whom thou knowest well, O Bride!'

Said the Bride: 'Thou sayest sooth, there is no better man in theDale. '

Said Bow-may: 'Sun-beam bade me wed him when he pressed hard uponme. ' She stayed awhile, and then said: 'Face-of-god also deemed Ishould not naysay the man; and now my son by him is of like age tothis little one. '

'Good is thy story, ' said Folk-might; 'or deemest thou, Bow-may, thatsuch 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 wedie, and fight for life and the goods of life. '

'Thou sayest well, ' she said; 'all that hath befallen me is goodsince the day whereon I loosed shaft from the break of the bent overyonder. '

Therewith she fell a-musing, and made as though she were hearkeningto the soft voice of the Bride caressing the new-come baby; but insooth neither heard nor saw what was going on about her, for herthoughts were in bygone days. Howbeit presently she came to herselfagain, and fell to asking many questions concerning Silver-dale andthe 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 Dalesince 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, boththe kindreds and the poor folk. And Bow-may deemed that the Brideloved Face-of-god's child little less than her own, whereof she hadtwo, a man and a woman; and thereat was she full of joy, since sheknew 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, toShadowy Vale; and Dallach and the best of Rose-dale went with them, being so bidden; and Bow-may and her following, according to the wordof the Bride. And in Shadowy Vale they met Face-of-god and AldermanIron-face, and the chiefs of Burgdale and the Shepherds, and manyothers; and great joy there was at the meeting. And the Sun-beamremembered the word which she spoke to Face-of-god when first he cameto Shadowy Vale, that she would be wishful to see again the dwellingwherein she had passed through so much joy and sorrow of her youngerdays. But if anyone were fain of this meeting, the Alderman was gladabove all, when he took the Bride once more in his arms, and caressedher whom he had deemed should be a very daughter of his House. 

Now telleth the tale of all these kindreds, to wit, the Men ofBurgdale and the Sheepcotes; and the Children of the Wolf, and theWoodlanders, and the Men of Rose-dale, that they were friendshenceforth, and became as one Folk, for better or worse, in peace andin war, in waning and waxing; and that whatsoever befell them, theyever held Shadowy Vale a holy place, and for long and long after theymet there in mid-autumn, and held converse and counsel together. 

NO MORE AS NOW TELLETH THE TALE OF THESE KINDREDS AND FOLKS, BUTMAKETH AN ENDING.