The Roots of the Mountains Part 17

'Yea,' he said; 'Spear-G.o.d, how many was it?'

There came forward a tall man bearing an axe in his right hand, and carrying over his shoulder by his left hand a bundle of silver arm- rings just such as Gold-mane had seen on the felons who were slain by Wood-grey's house. The carle cast them on the ground and then knelt down and fell to telling them over; and then looked up and said: 'Twelve yesterday in the wood where the battle was going on; and this morning seven by the tarn in the pine-wood and six near this eastern edge of the wood: one score and five all told. But, Folk-might, they are coming nigh to Shadowy Vale.'

'Sooth is that,' said Folk-might; 'but it shall be looked to. Come now apart with me, Face-of-G.o.d.'

So the others went their ways toward the Hall, while Folk-might led the Burgdaler to a sheltered nook under the sheer rocks, and there they sat down to talk, and Folk-might asked Gold-mane closely of the muster of the Dalesmen and the Shepherds and the Woodland Caries, and he was well pleased when Face-of-G.o.d told him of how many could march to a stricken field, and of their archery, and of their weapons and their goodness.

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

'Now will it be time to go to the Hall; but keep in thy mind that these Dusky Men will overrun you unless ye deal with them betimes.

These are of the kind that ye must cast fear into their hearts by falling on them; for if ye abide till they fall upon you, they are like the winter wolves that swarm on and on, how many soever ye slay.

And this above all things shall help you, that we shall bring you whereas ye shall fall on them unawares and destroy them as boys do with a wasp's nest. Yet shall many a mother's son bite the dust.

'Is it not so that in four weeks' time is your spring-feast and market at Burgstead, and thereafter the great Folk-mote?'

'So it is,' said Gold-mane.

'Thither shall I come then,' said Folk-might, 'and give myself out for the slayer of Rusty and the ransacker of Harts-bane and Penny- thumb; and therefor shall I offer good blood-wite and theft-wite; and thy father shall take that; for he is a just man. Then shall I tell my tale. Yet it may be thou shalt see us before if battle betide.

And now fair befall this new year; for soon shall the scabbards be empty and the white swords be dancing in the air, and spears and axes shall be the growth of this spring-tide.'

And he leaped up from his seat and walked to and fro before Gold- mane, and now was it grown quite dark. Then Folk-might turned to Face-of-G.o.d and said:

'Come, guest, the windows of the Hall are yellow; let us to the feast. To-morrow shalt thou get thee to the beginning of this work.

I hope of thee that thou art a good sword; else have I done a folly and my sister a worse one. But now forget that, and feast.'

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

'Yet I would not have thee forget that I was wroth with thee when I saw thee to-day; and had it not been for the coming battle I had drawn sword upon thee.'

Then Face-of-G.o.d's wrath was stirred, and he said:

'There is yet time for that! but why art thou wroth with me? And I shall tell thee that there is little manliness in thy chiding. For how may I fight with thee, thou the brother of my plighted speech- friend and my captain in this battle?'

'Therein thou sayest sooth,' said Folk-might; 'but hard it was to see you two standing together; and thou canst not give the Bride to me as I give my sister to thee. For I have seen her, and I have seen her looking at thee; and I know that she will not have it so.'

Then they went on together toward the Hall, and Face-of-G.o.d was silent and somewhat troubled; and as they drew near to the Hall, Folk-might spake again:

'Yet time may amend it; and if not, there is the battle, and maybe the end. Now be we merry!'

So they went into the Hall together, and there was the Sun-beam gloriously arrayed, as erst in the woodland bower, and Face-of-G.o.d sat on the dais beside her, and the uttermost sweetness of desire entered into his soul as he noted her eyes and her mouth, that were grown so kind to him, and her hand that strayed toward his.

The Hall was full of folk, and all those warriors were there with Wood-father and his sons, and Wood-mother, and Bow-may and many other women; and Gold-mane looked down the Hall and deemed that he had never seen such stalwarth bodies of men, or so bold and meet for battle: as for the women he had seen fairer in Burgdale, but these were fair of their own fashion, shapely and well-knit, and strong- armed and large-limbed, yet sweet-voiced and gentle withal. Nay, the very lads of fifteen winters or so, whereof a few were there, seemed bold and bright-eyed and keen of wit, and it seemed like that if the warriors fared afield these would be with them.

So wore the feast; and Folk-might as aforetime amongst the healths called on men to drink to the Jaws of the Wolf, and the Red Hand, and the Silver Arm, and the Golden Bushel, and the Ragged Sword. But now had Face-of-G.o.d no need to ask what these meant, since he knew that they were the names of the kindreds of the Wolf. They drank also to the troth-plight and to those twain, and shouted aloud over the health and clashed their weapons: and Gold-mane wondered what echo of that shout would reach to Burgstead.

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

She singeth.

Wild is the waste and long leagues over; Whither then wend ye spear and sword, Where nought shall see your helms but the plover, Far and far from the dear Dale's sward?

He singeth.

Many a league shall we wend together With helm and spear and bended bow.

Hark! how the wind blows up for weather: Dark shall the night be whither we go.

Dark shall the night be round the byre, And dark as we drive the brindled kine; Dark and dark round the beacon-fire, Dark down in the pa.s.s round our wavering line.

Turn on thy path, O fair-foot maiden, And come our ways by the pathless road; Look how the clouds hang low and laden Over the walls of the old abode!

She singeth.

Bare are my feet for the rough waste's wending, Wild is the wind, and my kirtle's thin; Faint shall I be ere the long way's ending Drops down to the Dale and the grief therein.

He singeth.

Do on the brogues of the wild-wood rover, Do on the byrnies' ring-close mail; Take thou the staff that the barbs hang over, O'er the wind and the waste and the way to prevail.

Come, for how from thee shall I sunder?

Come, that a tale may arise in the land; Come, that the night may be held for a wonder, When the Wolf was led by a maiden's hand!

She singeth.

Now will I fare as ye are faring, And wend no way but the way ye wend; And bear but the burdens ye are bearing, And end the day as ye shall end.

And many an eve when the clouds are drifting Down through the Dale till they dim the roof, Shall they tell in the Hall of the Maiden's Lifting, And how we drave the spoil aloof.

They sing together.

Over the moss through the wind and the weather, Through the morn and the eve and the death of the day, Wend we man and maid together, For out of the waste is born the fray.

Then the Sun-beam spake to Gold-mane softly, and told him how this song was made by a minstrel concerning a foray in the early days of their first abode in Shadowy Vale, and how in good sooth a maiden led the fray and was the captain of the warriors:

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

So they talked, and Gold-mane was very happy; but ere the good-night cup was drunk, Folk-might spake to Face-of-G.o.d and said:

'It were well that ye rose betimes in the morning: but thou shalt not go back by the way thou camest. Wood-wise and another shall go with thee, and show thee a way across the necks and the heaths, which is rough enough as far as toil goes, but where thy life shall be safer; and thereby shalt thou hit the ghyll of the Weltering Water, and so come down safely into Burgdale. Now that we are friends and fellows, it is no hurt for thee to know the shortest way to Shadowy Vale. What thou shalt tell concerning us in Burgdale I leave the tale thereof to thee; yet belike thou wilt not tell everything till I come to Burgstead at the spring market-tide. Now must I presently to bed; for before daylight to-morrow must I be following the hunt along with two score good men of ours.'

'What beast is afield then?' said Gold-mane.

Said Folk-might: 'The beasts that beset our lives, the Dusky Men.

In these days we have learned how to find companies of them; and forsooth every week they draw nigher to this Dale; and some day they should happen upon us if we were not to look to it, and then would there be a murder great and grim; therefore we scour the heaths round about, and the skirts of the woodland, and we fall upon these felons in divers guises, so that they may not know us for the same men; whiles are we clad in homespun, as to-day, and seem like to field- working carles; whiles in scarlet and gold, like knights of the Westland; whiles in wolf-skins; whiles in white glittering gear, like the Wights of the Waste: and in all guises these felons, for all their fierce hearts, fear us, and flee from us, and we follow and slay them, and so minish their numbers somewhat against the great day of battle.'

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