CHAPTER XXI--OF THIODOLF'S STORM
The Goths tarried not over their victory; they shot with all the bowmenthat they had against the Romans on the wall, and therewith arrayedthemselves to fall on once more. And Thiodolf, now that the foe werecovered by a wall, though it was but a little one, sent a message to themen of the third battle, them of Up-mark to wit, to come forward in goodarray and help to make a ring around the Wolfing Stead, wherein theyshould now take the Romans as a beast is taken in a trap. Meanwhile,until they came, he sent other men to the wood to bring tree-boles tobatter the gate, and to make bridges whereby to swarm over the wall,which was but breast-high on the Roman side, though they had worked at itceaselessly since yesterday morning.
In a long half-hour, therefore, the horns of the men of Up-mark sounded,and they came forth from the wood a very great company, for with themalso were the men of the stay-at-homes and the homeless, such of them aswere fit to bear arms. Amongst these went the Hall-Sun surrounded by aband of the warriors of Up-mark; and before her was borne her namesakethe Lamp as a sign of assured victory. But these stay-at-homes with theHall-Sun were stayed by the command of Thiodolf on the crown of the slopeabove the dwellings, and stood round about the Speech-Hill, on thetopmost of which stood the Hall-Sun, and the wondrous Lamp, and the menwho warded her and it.
When the Romans saw the new host come forth from the wood, they mightwell think that they would have work enough to do that day; but when theysaw the Hall-Sun take her stand on the Speech-Hill with the men-at-armsabout her, and the Lamp before her, then dread of the Gods fell uponthem, and they knew that the doom had gone forth against them.Nevertheless they were not men to faint and die because the Gods werebecome their foes, but they were resolved rather to fight it out to theend against whatsoever might come against them, as was well seenafterwards.
Now they had made four gates to their garth according to their custom,and at each gate within was there a company of their mightiest men, andeach was beset by the best of the Markmen. Thiodolf and his men besetthe western gate where they had made that fierce onset. And the northerngate was beset by the Elkings and some of the kindreds of theNether-mark; and the eastern gate by the rest of the men of Nether-mark;and the southern gate by the kindreds of Up-mark.
All this the Romans noted, and they saw how that the Markmen were nowvery many, and they knew that they were men no less valiant thanthemselves, and they perceived that Thiodolf was a wise Captain; and inless than two hours' space from the Storm of Dawning they saw those mencoming from the wood with plenteous store of tree-trunks to bridge theirditch and rampart; and they considered how the day was yet very young, sothat they might look for no shelter from the night-tide; and as for anyaid from their own folk at the war-garth aforesaid, they hoped not forit, nor had they sent any messenger to the Captain of the garth; nor didthey know as yet of his overthrow on the Ridge.
Now therefore there seemed to be but two choices before them; either toabide within the rampart they had cast up, or to break out like valiantmen, and either die in the storm, or cleave a way through, whereby theymight come to their kindred and their stronghold south-east of the Mark.
This last way then they chose; or, to say the truth, it was their chiefcaptain who chose it for them, though they were nothing loth thereto: forthis man was a mocker, yet hot-headed, unstable, and nought wise in war,and heretofore had his greed minished his courage; yet now, being driveninto a corner, he had courage enough and to spare, but utterly lackedpatience; for it had been better for the Romans to have abided one or twoonsets from the Goths, whereby they who should make the onslaught wouldat the least have lost more men than they on whom they should fall,before they within stormed forth on them; but their pride took away fromthe Romans their last chance. But their captain, now that he perceived,as he thought, that the game was lost and his life come to its last hourwherein he would have to leave his treasure and pleasure behind him, grewdesperate and therewith most fierce and cruel. So all the captives whomthey had taken (they were but two score and two, for the wounded men theyhad slain) he caused to be bound on the chairs of the high-seat clad intheir war-gear with their swords or spears made fast to their righthands, and their shields to their left hands; and he said that the Gothsshould now hold a Thing wherein they should at last take counsel wisely,and abstain from folly. For he caused store of faggots and small woodsmeared with grease and oil to be cast into the hall that it might befired, so that it and the captives should burn up altogether; "So," saidhe, "shall we have a fair torch for our funeral fire;" for it was thecustom of the Romans to burn their dead.
Thus, then, he did; and then he caused men to do away the barriers andopen all the four gates of the new-made garth, after he had manned thewall with the slingers and bowmen, and slain the horses, so that thewoodland folk should have no gain of them. Then he arrayed his men atthe gates and about them duly and wisely, and bade those valiant footmenfall on the Goths who were getting ready to fall on them, and to do theirbest. But he himself armed at all points took his stand at the Man's-door of the Hall, and swore by all the Gods of his kindred that he wouldnot move a foot's length from thence either for fire or for steel.
So fiercely on that fair morning burned the hatred of men about thedwellings of the children of the Wolf of the Goths, wherein the childrenof the Wolf of Rome were shut up as in a penfold of slaughter.
Meanwhile the Hall-Sun standing on the Hill of Speech beheld it all,looking down into the garth of war; for the new wall was no hindrance toher sight, because the Speech-Hill was high and but a little way from theGreat Roof; and indeed she was within shot of the Roman bowmen, thoughthey were not very deft in shooting.
So now she lifted up her voice and sang so that many heard her; for atthis moment of time there was a lull in the clamour of battle both withinthe garth and without; even as it happens when the thunder-storm is justabout to break on the world, that the wind drops dead, and the voice ofthe leaves is hushed before the first great and near flash of lighteningglares over the fields.
So she sang:
"Now the latest hour cometh and the ending of the strife; And to-morrow and to-morrow shall we take the hand of life, And wend adown the meadows, and skirt the darkling wood, And reap the waving acres, and gather in the good. I see a wall before me built up of steel and fire, And hurts and heart-sick striving, and the war-wright's fierce desire; But there-amidst a door is, and windows are therein; And the fair sun-litten meadows and the Houses of the kin Smile on me through the terror my trembling life to stay, That at my mouth now flutters, as fain to flee away. Lo e'en as the little hammer and the blow-pipe of the wright About the flickering fire deals with the silver white, And the cup and its beauty groweth that shall be for the people's feast, And all men are glad to see it from the greatest to the least; E'en so is the tale now fashioned, that many a time and oft Shall be told on the acre's edges, when the summer eve is soft; Shall be hearkened round the hall-blaze when the mid-winter night The kindreds' mirth besetteth, and quickeneth man's delight, And we that have lived in the story shall be born again and again As men feast on the bread of our earning, and praise the grief-born grain."
As she made an end of singing, those about her understood her words, thatshe was foretelling victory, and the peace of the Mark, and for joy theyraised a shrill cry; and the warriors who were nighest to her took it up,and it spread through the whole host round about the garth, and went upinto the breath of the summer morning and went down the wind along themeadow of the Wolfings, so that they of the wain-burg, who were nowdrawing somewhat near to Wolf-stead heard it and were glad.
But the Romans when they heard it knew that the heart of the battle wasreached, and they cast back that shout wrathfully and fiercely, and madetoward the foe.
Therewithal those mighty men fell on each other in the narrow passes ofthe garth; for fear was dead and buried in that Battle of the Morning.
On the North gate Hiarandi of the El
kings was the point of the Markmen'swedge, and first clave the Roman press. In the Eastern gate it wasValtyr, Otter's brother's son, a young man and most mighty. In the Southgate it was Geirbald of the Shieldings, the Messenger.
In the west gate Thiodolf the War-duke gave one mighty cry like the roarof an angry lion, and cleared a space before him for the wielding ofIvar's blade; for at that moment he had looked up to the Roof of theKindred and had beheld a little stream of smoke curling blue out of awindow thereof, and he knew what had betided, and how short was the timebefore them. But his wrathful cry was taken up by some who had beheldthat same sight, and by others who saw nought but the Roman press, andterribly it rang over the swaying struggling crowd.
Then fell the first rank of the Romans before those stark men and mightywarriors; and they fell even where they stood, for on neither side couldany give back but for a little space, so close the press was, and the menso eager to smite. Neither did any crave peace if he were hurt ordisarmed; for to the Goths it was but a little thing to fall in hot bloodin that hour of love of the kindred, and longing for the days to be. Andfor the Romans, they had had no mercy, and now looked for none: and theyremembered their dealings with the Goths, and saw before them, as itwere, once more, yea, as in a picture, their slayings and quellings, andlashings, and cold mockings which they had dealt out to the conqueredfoemen without mercy, and now they longed sore for the quiet of the dark,when their hard lives should be over, and all these deeds forgotten, andthey and their bitter foes should be at rest for ever.
Most valiantly they fought; but the fury of their despair could not dealwith the fearless hope of the Goths, and as rank after rank of them tookthe place of those who were hewn down by Thiodolf and the Kindred, theyfell in their turn, and slowly the Goths cleared a space within thegates, and then began to spread along the wall within, and grew thickerand thicker. Nor did they fight only at the gates; but made them bridgesof those tree-trunks, and fell to swarming over the rampart, till theyhad cleared it of the bowmen and slingers, and then they leaped down andfell upon the flanks of the Romans; and the host of the dead grew, andthe host of the living lessened.
Moreover the stay-at-homes round about the Speech-Hill, and that band ofthe warriors of Up-mark who were with them, beheld the Great Roof and sawthe smoke come gushing out of the windows, and at last saw the red flamescreep out amidst it and waver round the window jambs like little bannersof scarlet cloth. Then they could no longer refrain themselves, but randown from the Speech-Hill and the slope about it with great and fiercecries, and clomb the wall where it was unmanned, helping each other withhand and back, both stark warriors, and old men and lads and women: andthus they gat them into the garth and fell upon the lessening band of theRomans, who now began to give way hither and thither about the garth, asthey best might.
Thus it befell at the West-gate, but at the other gates it was no worser,for there was no diversity of valour between the Houses; nay, whereas themore part and the best part of the Romans faced the onset of Thiodolf,which seemed to them the main onset, they were somewhat easier to dealwith elsewhere than at the West gate; and at the East gate was the placefirst won, so that Valtyr and his folk were the first to clear a spacewithin the gate, and to tell the tale shortly (for can this that and theother sword-stroke be told of in such a medley?) they drew the death-ringaround the Romans that were before them, and slew them all to the lastman, and then fell fiercely on the rearward of them of the North gate,who still stood before Hiarandi's onset. There again was no long tale totell of, for Hiarandi was just winning the gate, and the wall was clearedof the Roman shot-fighters, and the Markmen were standing on the topthereof, and casting down on the Romans spears and baulks of wood andwhatsoever would fly. There again were the Romans all slain or put outof the fight, and the two bands of the kindred joined together, and withwhat voices the battle-rage had left them cried out for joy and fared ontogether to help to bind the sheaves of war which Thiodolf's sickle hadreaped. And now it was mere slaying, and the Romans, though they stillfought in knots of less than a score, yet fought on and hewed and thrustwithout more thought or will than the stone has when it leaps adown thehill-side after it has first been set agoing.
But now the garth was fairly won and Thiodolf saw that there was no hopefor the Romans drawing together again; so while the kindreds were busiedin hewing down those knots of desperate men, he gathered to him some ofthe wisest of his warriors, amongst whom were Steinulf and Grani theGrey, the deft wood-wrights (but Athalulf had been grievously hurt by aspear and was out of the battle), and drave a way through the confusedturmoil which still boiled in the garth there, and made straight for theMan's-door of the Hall. Soon he was close thereto, having hewn away allfleers that hindered him, and the doorway was before him. But on thethreshold, the fire and flames of the kindled hall behind him, stood theRoman Captain clad in gold-adorned armour and surcoat of sea-born purple;the man was cool and calm and proud, and a mocking smile was on his face:and he bore his bright blade unbloodied in his hand.
Thiodolf stayed a moment of time, and their eyes met; it had gone hardwith the War-duke, and those eyes glittered in his pale face, and histeeth were close set together; though he had fought wisely, and for life,as he who is most valiant ever will do, till he is driven to bay like thelone wood-wolf by the hounds, yet had he been sore mishandled. His helmand shield were gone, his hauberk rent; for it was no dwarf-wrought coat,but the work of Ivar's hand: the blood was running down from his leftarm, and he was hurt in many places: he had broken Ivar's sword in themedley, and now bore in his hand a strong Roman short-sword, and his feetstood bloody on the worn earth anigh the Man's-door.
He looked into the scornful eyes of the Roman lord for a little minuteand then laughed aloud, and therewithal, leaping on him with one spring,turned sideways, and dealt him a great buffet on his ear with his unarmedleft hand, just as the Roman thrust at him with his sword, so that theCaptain staggered forward on to the next man following, which wasWolfkettle the eager warrior, who thrust him through with his sword andshoved him aside as they all strode into the hall together. Howbeit nosword fell from the Roman Captain as he fell, for Thiodolf's side bore itinto the Hall of the Wolfings.
Most wrathful were those men, and went hastily, for their Roof was fullof smoke, and the flames flickered about the pillars and the wall hereand there, and crept up to the windows aloft; yet was it not wholly orfiercely burning; for the Roman fire-raisers had been hurried and hastyin their work. Straightway then Steinulf and Grani led the others off ata run towards the loft and the water; but Thiodolf, who went slowly andpainfully, looked and beheld on the dais those men bound for the burning,and he went quietly, and as a man who has been sick, and is weak, up onto the dais, and said:
"Be of good cheer, O brothers, for the kindreds have vanquished thefoemen, and the end of strife is come."
His voice sounded strange and sweet to them amidst the turmoil of thefight without; he laid down his sword on the table, and drew a littlesharp knife from his girdle and cut their bonds one by one and loosedthem with his blood-stained hands; and each one as he loosed him hekissed and said to him, "Brother, go help those who are quenching thefire; this is the bidding of the War-duke."
But as he loosed one after other he was longer and longer about it, andhis words were slower. At last he came to the man who was bound in hisown high-seat close under the place of the wondrous Lamp, the Hall-Sun,and he was the only one left bound; that man was of the Wormings and wasnamed Elfric; he loosed him and was long about it; and when he was donehe smiled on him and kissed him, and said to him:
"Arise, brother! go help the quenchers of the fire, and leave to me thismy chair, for I am weary: and if thou wilt, thou mayst bring me of thatwater to drink, for this morning men have forgotten the mead of thereapers!"
Then Elfric arose, and Thiodolf sat in his chair, and leaned back hishead; but Elfric looked at him for a moment as one scared, and then ranhis ways down the hall, which now was growing nois
y with the hurry andbustle of the quenchers of the fire, to whom had divers others joinedthemselves.
There then from a bucket which was still for a moment he filled a woodenbowl, which he caught up from the base of one of the hall-pillars, andhastened up the Hall again; and there was no man nigh the dais, andThiodolf yet sat in his chair, and the hall was dim with the rollingsmoke, and Elfric saw not well what the War-duke was doing. So hehastened on, and when he was close to Thiodolf he trod in something wet,and his heart sank for he knew that it was blood; his foot slippedtherewith and as he put out his hand to save himself the more part of thewater was spilled, and mingled with the blood. But he went up toThiodolf and said to him, "Drink, War-duke! here hath come a mouthful ofwater."
But Thiodolf moved not for his word, and Elfric touched him, and he movednone the more.
Then Elfric's heart failed him and he laid his hand on the War-duke'shand, and looked closely into his face; and the hand was cold and theface ashen-pale; and Elfric laid his hand on his side, and he felt theshort-sword of the Roman leader thrust deep therein, besides his manyother hurts.
So Elfric knew that he was dead, and he cast the bowl to the earth, andlifted up his hands and wailed out aloud, like a woman who hath comesuddenly on her dead child, and cried out in a great voice:
"Hither, hither, O men in this hall, for the War-duke of the Markmen isdead! O ye people, Hearken! Thiodolf the Mighty, the Wolfing is dead!"
And he was a young man, and weak with the binding and the waiting fordeath, and he bowed himself adown and crouched on the ground and weptaloud.
But even as he cried that cry, the sunlight outside the Man's-door wasdarkened, and the Hall-Sun came over the threshold in her ancient gold-embroidered raiment, holding in her hand her namesake the wondrous Lamp;and the spears and the war-gear of warriors gleamed behind her; but themen tarried on the threshold till she turned about and beckoned to them,and then they poured in through the Man's-door, their war-gear rent andthey all befouled and disarrayed with the battle, but with proud andhappy faces: as they entered she waved her hand to them to bid them gojoin the quenchers of the fire; so they went their ways.
But she went with unfaltering steps up to the dais, and the place wherethe chain of the Lamp hung down from amidst the smoke-cloud wavering alittle in the gusts of the hall. Straightway she made the Lamp fast toits chain, and dealt with its pulleys with a deft hand often practisedtherein, and then let it run up toward the smoke-hidden Roof till itgleamed in its due place once more, a token of the salvation of theWolfings and the welfare of all the kindreds.
Then she turned toward Thiodolf with a calm and solemn face, though itwas very pale and looked as if she would not smile again. Elfric hadrisen up and was standing by the board speechless and the passion of sobsstill struggling in his bosom. She put him aside gently, and went up toThiodolf and stood above him, and looked down on his face a while: thenshe put forth her hand and closed his eyes, and stooped down and kissedhis face. Then she stood up again and faced the Hall and looked and sawthat many were streaming in, and that though the smoke was still eddyingoverhead, the fire was well nigh quenched within; and without the soundof battle had sunk and died away. For indeed the Markmen had ended theirday's work before noon-tide that day, and the more part of the Romanswere slain, and to the rest they had given peace till the Folk-moteshould give Doom concerning them; for pity of these valiant men wasgrowing in the hearts of the valiant men who had vanquished them, nowthat they feared them no more.
And this second part of the Morning Battle is called Thiodolf's Storm.
So now when the Hall-Sun looked and beheld that the battle was done andthe fire quenched, and when she saw how every man that came into the Halllooked up and beheld the wondrous Lamp and his face quickened into joy atthe sight of it; and how most looked up at the high-seat and Thiodolflying leaned back therein, her heart nigh broke between the thought ofher grief and of the grief of the Folk that their mighty friend was dead,and the thought of the joy of the days to be and all the glory that hislatter days had won. But she gathered heart, and casting back the darktresses of her hair, she lifted up her voice and cried out till its clearshrillness sounded throughout all the Roof:
"O men in this Hall the War-duke is dead! O people hearken! for Thiodolfthe Mighty hath changed his life: Come hither, O men, Come hither, forthis is true, that Thiodolf is dead!"