CHAPTER XVII--THE WOOD-SUN SPEAKETH WITH THIODOLF
Now the Markmen laid Heriulf in howe on the ridge-crest where he hadfallen, and heaped a mighty howe over him that could be seen from far,and round about him they laid the other warriors of the kindreds. Forthey deemed it was fittest that they should lie on the place whose storythey had fashioned. But they cast earth on the foemen lower down on thewestward-lying bents.
The sun set amidst their work, and night came on; and Thiodolf was wearyand would fain rest him and sleep: but he had many thoughts, and ponderedwhitherward he should lead the folk, so as to smite the Romans onceagain, and he had a mind to go apart and be alone for rest and slumber;so he spoke to a man of the kindred named Solvi in whom he put all trust,and then he went down from the ridge, and into a little dale on thesouthwest side thereof, a furlong from the place of the battle. A beckran down that dale, and the further end of it was closed by a little woodof yew trees, low, but growing thick together, and great grey stones werescattered up and down on the short grass of the dale. Thiodolf went downto the brook-side, and to a place where it trickled into a pool, whenceit ran again in a thin thread down the dale, turning aside before itreached the yew-wood to run its ways under low ledges of rock into awider dale. He looked at the pool and smiled to himself as if he hadthought of something that pleased him; then he drew a broad knife fromhis side, and fell to cutting up turfs till he had what he wanted; andthen he brought stones to the place, and built a dam across the mouth ofthe pool, and sat by on a great stone to watch it filling.
As he sat he strove to think about the Roman host and how he should dealwith it; but despite himself his thoughts wandered, and made for himpictures of his life that should be when this time of battle was over; sothat he saw nothing of the troubles that were upon his hands that night,but rather he saw himself partaking in the deeds of the life of man.There he was between the plough-stilts in the acres of the kindred whenthe west wind was blowing over the promise of early spring; or smitingdown the ripe wheat in the hot afternoon amidst the laughter and merrytalk of man and maid; or far away over Mirkwood-water watching the edgesof the wood against the prowling wolf and lynx, the stars just beginningto shine over his head, as now they were; or wending the windless woodsin the first frosts before the snow came, the hunter's bow or javelin inhand: or coming back from the wood with the quarry on the sledge acrossthe snow, when winter was deep, through the biting icy wind and the whirlof the drifting snow, to the lights and music of the Great Roof, and themerry talk therein and the smiling of the faces glad to see the hunting-carles come back; and the full draughts of mead, and the sweet rest anight-tide when the north wind was moaning round the ancient home.
All seemed good and fair to him, and whiles he looked around him, and sawthe long dale lying on his left hand and the dark yews in its jawspressing up against the rock-ledges of the brook, and on his right itswindings as the ground rose up to the buttresses of the great ridge. Themoon was rising over it, and he heard the voice of the brook as ittinkled over the stones above him; and the whistle of the plover and thelaugh of the whimbrel came down the dale sharp and clear in the calmevening; and sounding far away, because the great hill muffled them, werethe voices of his fellows on the ridge, and the songs of the warriors andthe high-pitched cries of the watch. And this also was a part of thesweet life which was, and was to be; and he smiled and was happy andloved the days that were coming, and longed for them, as the young manlongs for the feet of his maiden at the trysting-place.
So as he sat there, the dreams wrapping him up from troublous thoughts,at last slumber overtook him, and the great warrior of the Wolfings satnodding like an old carle in the chimney ingle, and he fell asleep, hisdreams going with him, but all changed and turned to folly and emptiness.
He woke with a start in no long time; the night was deep, the wind hadfallen utterly, and all sounds were stilled save the voice of the brook,and now and again the cry of the watchers of the Goths. The moon washigh and bright, and the little pool beside him glittered with it in allits ripples; for it was full now and trickling over the lip of his dam.So he arose from the stone and did off his war-gear, castingThrong-plough down into the grass beside him, for he had been minded tobathe him, but the slumber was still on him, and he stood musing whilethe stream grew stronger and pushed off first one of his turfs and thenanother, and rolled two or three of the stones over, and then softlythrust all away and ran with a gush down the dale, filling all the littlebights by the way for a minute or two; he laughed softly thereat, andstayed the undoing of his kirtle, and so laid himself down on the grassbeside the stone looking down the dale, and fell at once into a dreamlesssleep.
When he awoke again, it was yet night, but the moon was getting lower andthe first beginnings of dawn were showing in the sky over the ridge; helay still a moment gathering his thoughts and striving to remember wherehe was, as is the wont of men waking from deep sleep; then he leapt tohis feet, and lo, he was face to face with a woman, and she who but theWood-Sun? and he wondered not, but reached out his hand to touch her,though he had not yet wholly cast off the heaviness of slumber orremembered the tidings of yesterday.
She drew aback a little from him, and his eyes cleared of the slumber,and he saw her that she was scantily clad in black raiment, barefoot,with no gold ring on her arms or necklace on her neck, or crown about herhead. But she looked so fair and lovely even in that end of the night-tide, that he remembered all her beauty of the day and the sunshine, andhe laughed aloud for joy of the sight of her, and said:
"What aileth thee, O Wood-Sun, and is this a new custom of thy kindredand the folk of God-home that their brides array themselves like thrallsnew-taken, and as women who have lost their kindred and are outcast? Whothen hath won the Burg of the Anses, and clomb the rampart of God-home?"
But she spoke from where she stood in a voice so sweet, that it thrilledto the very marrow of his bones.
"I have dwelt a while with sorrow since we met, we twain, in the wood: I have mourned, while thou hast been merry, who deemest the war-play good. For I know the heart of the wilful and how thou wouldst cast away The rampart of thy life-days, and the wall of my happy day. Yea I am the thrall of Sorrow; she hath stripped my raiment off And laid sore stripes upon me with many a bitter scoff. Still bidding me remember that I come of the God-folk's kin, And yet for all my godhead no love of thee may win."
Then she looked longingly at him a while and at last could no longerrefrain her, but drew nigh him and took his hands in hers, and kissed hismouth, and said as she caressed him:
"O where are thy wounds, beloved? how turned the spear from thy breast, When the storm of war blew strongest, and the best men met the best? Lo, this is the tale of to-day: but what shall to-morrow tell? That Thiodolf the Mighty in the fight's beginning fell; That there came a stroke ill-stricken, there came an aimless thrust, And the life of the people's helper lay quenched in the summer dust."
He answered nothing, but smiled as though the sound of her voice and thetouch of her hand were pleasant to him, for so much love there was inher, that her very grief was scarcely grievous. But she said again:
"Thou sayest it: I am outcast; for a God that lacketh mirth Hath no more place in God-home and never a place on earth. A man grieves, and he gladdens, or he dies and his grief is gone; But what of the grief of the Gods, and the sorrow never undone? Yea verily I am the outcast. When first in thine arms I lay On the blossoms of the woodland my godhead passed away; Thenceforth unto thee was I looking for the light and the glory of life And the Gods' doors shut behind me till the day of the uttermost strife. And now thou hast taken my soul, thou wilt cast it into the night, And cover thine head with the darkness, and turn thine eyes from the light. Thou wouldst go to the empty country where never a seed is sown And never a deed is fashioned, and the place where each is alone; But I thy thrall shall follow, I shall come where thou seemest to lie, I shall sit on t
he howe that hides thee, and thou so dear and nigh! A few bones white in their war-gear that have no help or thought, Shall be Thiodolf the Mighty, so nigh, so dear--and nought."
His hands strayed over her shoulders and arms, caressing them, and hesaid softly and lovingly:
"I am Thiodolf the Mighty: but as wise as I may be No story of that grave-night mine eyes can ever see, But rather the tale of the Wolfings through the coming days of earth, And the young men in their triumph and the maidens in their mirth; And morn's promise every evening, and each day the promised morn, And I amidst it ever reborn and yet reborn. This tale I know, who have seen it, who have felt the joy and pain, Each fleeing, each pursuing, like the links of the draw-well's chain: But that deedless tide of the grave-mound, and the dayless nightless day, E'en as I strive to see it, its image wanes away. What say'st thou of the grave-mound? shall I be there at all When they lift the Horn of Remembrance, and the shout goes down the hall, And they drink the Mighty War-duke and Thiodolf the old? Nay rather; there where the youngling that longeth to be bold Sits gazing through the hall-reek and sees across the board A vision of the reaping of the harvest of the sword, There shall Thiodolf be sitting; e'en there shall the youngling be That once in the ring of the hazels gave up his life to thee."
She laughed as he ended, and her voice was sweet, but bitter was herlaugh. Then she said:
"Nay thou shalt be dead, O warrior, thou shalt not see the Hall Nor the children of thy people 'twixt the dais and the wall. And I, and I shall be living; still on thee shall waste my thought: I shall long and lack thy longing; I shall pine for what is nought."
But he smiled again, and said:
"Not on earth shall I learn this wisdom; and how shall I learn it then When I lie alone in the grave-mound, and have no speech with men? But for thee,--O doubt it nothing that my life shall live in thee, And so shall we twain be loving in the days that yet shall be."
It was as if she heard him not; and she fell aback from him a little andstood silently for a while as one in deep thought; and then turned andwent a few paces from him, and stooped down and came back again withsomething in her arms (and it was the hauberk once more), and saidsuddenly:
"O Thiodolf, now tell me for what cause thou wouldst not bear This grey wall of the hammer in the tempest of the spear? Didst thou doubt my faith, O Folk-wolf, or the counsel of the Gods, That thou needs must cast thee naked midst the flashing battle-rods, Or is thy pride so mighty that it seemed to thee indeed That death was a better guerdon than the love of the Godhead's seed?"
But Thiodolf said: "O Wood-Sun, this thou hast a right to ask of me, whyI have not worn in the battle thy gift, the Treasure of the World, theDwarf-wrought Hauberk! And what is this that thou sayest? I doubt notthy faith towards me and thine abundant love: and as for the rede of theGods, I know it not, nor may I know it, nor turn it this way nor that:and as for thy love and that I would choose death sooner, I know not whatthou meanest; I will not say that I love thy love better than lifeitself; for these two, my life and my love, are blended together and maynot be sundered.
"Hearken therefore as to the Hauberk: I wot well that it is for no lightmatter that thou wouldst have me bear thy gift, the wondrous hauberk,into battle; I deem that some doom is wrapped up in it; maybe that Ishall fall before the foe if I wear it not; and that if I wear it,somewhat may betide me which is unmeet to betide a warrior of theWolfings. Therefore will I tell thee why I have fought in two battleswith the Romans with unmailed body, and why I left the hauberk, (which Isee that thou bearest in thine arms) in the Roof of the Daylings. Forwhen I entered therein, clad in the hauberk, there came to meet me anancient man, one of the very valiant of days past, and he looked on mewith the eyes of love, as though he had been the very father of our folk,and I the man that was to come after him to carry on the life thereof.But when he saw the hauberk and touched it, then was his love smittencold with sadness and he spoke words of evil omen; so that putting thistogether with thy words about the gift, and that thou didst in a mannercompel me to wear it, I could not but deem that this mail is for theransom of a man and the ruin of a folk.
"Wilt thou say that it is not so? then will I wear the hauberk, and liveand die happy. But if thou sayest that I have deemed aright, and that acurse goeth with the hauberk, then either for the sake of the folk I willnot wear the gift and the curse, and I shall die in great glory, andbecause of me the House shall live; or else for thy sake I shall bear itand live, and the House shall live or die as may be, but I not helping,nay I no longer of the House nor in it. How sayest thou?"
Then she said:
"Hail be thy mouth, beloved, for that last word of thine, And the hope that thine heart conceiveth and the hope that is born in mine. Yea, for a man's delivrance was the hauberk born indeed That once more the mighty warrior might help the folk at need. And where is the curse's dwelling if thy life be saved to dwell Amidst the Wolfing warriors and the folk that loves thee well And the house where the high Gods left thee to be cherished well therein?
"Yea more: I have told thee, beloved, that thou art not of the kin; The blood in thy body is blended of the wandering Elking race, And one that I may not tell of, who in God-home hath his place, And who changed his shape to beget thee in the wild-wood's leafy roof. How then shall the doom of the Wolfings be woven in the woof Which the Norns for thee have shuttled? or shall one man of war Cast down the tree of the Wolfings on the roots that spread so far? O friend, thou art wise and mighty, but other men have lived Beneath the Wolfing roof-tree whereby the folk has thrived."
He reddened at her word; but his eyes looked eagerly on her. She castdown the hauberk, and drew one step nigher to him. She knitted herbrows, her face waxed terrible, and her stature seemed to grow greater,as she lifted up her gleaming right arm, and cried out in a great voice.
"Thou Thiodolf the Mighty! Hadst thou will to cast the net And tangle the House in thy trouble, it is I would slay thee yet; For 'tis I and I that love them, and my sorrow would I give, And thy life, thou God of battle, that the Wolfing House might live."
Therewith she rushed forward, and cast herself upon him, and threw herarms about him, and strained him to her bosom, and kissed his face, andhe her in likewise, for there was none to behold them, and nought but thenaked heaven was the roof above their heads.
And now it was as if the touch of her face and her body, and themurmuring of her voice changed and soft close to his ear, as she murmuredmere words of love to him, drew him away from the life of deeds anddoubts and made a new world for him, wherein he beheld all those fairpictures of the happy days that had been in his musings when first heleft the field of the dead.
So they sat down on the grey stone together hand in hand, her head laidupon his shoulder, no otherwise than if they had been two lovers, youngand without renown in days of deep peace.
So as they sat, her foot smote on the cold hilts of the sword, whichThiodolf had laid down in the grass; and she stooped and took it up, andlaid it across her knees and his as they sat there; and she looked onThrong-plough as he lay still in the sheath, and smiled on him, and sawthat the peace-strings were not yet wound about his hilts. So she drewhim forth and raised him up in her hand, and he gleamed white and fearfulin the growing dawn, for all things had now gotten their colours again,whereas amidst their talking had the night worn, and the moon low downwas grown white and pale.
But she leaned aside, and laid her cheek against Thiodolf's, and he tookthe sword out of her hand and set it on his knees again, and laid hisright hand on it, and said:
"Two things by these blue edges in the face of the dawning I swear; And first this warrior's ransom in the coming fight to bear, And evermore to love thee who hast given me second birth. And by the sword I swear it, and by the Holy Earth, To live for the House of the Wolfings, and at last to die for their need. For though I trow thy saying that I am not
one of their seed, Nor yet by the hand have been taken and unto the Father shown As a very son of the Fathers, yet mid them hath my body grown; And I am the guest of their Folk-Hall, and each one there is my friend. So with them is my joy and sorrow, and my life, and my death in the end. Now whatso doom hereafter my coming days shall bide, Thou speech-friend, thou deliverer, thine is this dawning-tide."
She spoke no word to him; but they rose up and went hand in hand down thedale, he still bearing his naked sword over his shoulder, and thus theywent together into the yew-copse at the dale's end. There they abodetill after the rising of the sun, and each to each spake many lovingwords at their departure; and the Wood-Sun went her ways at her will.
But Thiodolf went up the dale again, and set Throng-plough in his sheath,and wound the peace-strings round him. Then he took up the hauberk fromthe grass whereas the Wood-Sun had cast it, and did it on him, as it wereof the attire he was wont to carry daily. So he girt Throng-plough tohim, and went soberly up to the ridge-top to the folk, who were juststirring in the early morning.