CHAPTER VI--THEY TALK ON THE WAY TO THE FOLK-THING
All day long one standing on the Speech-hill of the Wolfings might haveseen men in their war-array streaming along the side of Mirkwood-water,on both sides thereof; and the last comers from the Nether-mark camehastening all they might; for they would not be late at thetrysting-place. But these were of a kindred called the Laxings, who borea salmon on their banner; and they were somewhat few in number, for theyhad but of late years become a House of the Markmen. Their banner-wainwas drawn by white horses, fleet and strong, and they were no great band,for they had but few thralls with them, and all, free men and thralls,were a-horseback; so they rode by hastily with their banner-wain, theirfew munition-wains following as they might.
Now tells the tale of the men-at-arms of the Wolfings and the Beamings,that soon they fell in with the Elking host, which was journeying butleisurely, so that the Wolfings might catch up with them: they were avery great kindred, the most numerous of all Mid-mark, and at this timethey had affinity with the Wolfings. But old men of the House rememberedhow they had heard their grandsires and very old men tell that there hadbeen a time when the Elking House had been established by men from out ofthe Wolfing kindred, and how they had wandered away from the Mark in thedays when it had been first settled, and had abided aloof for manygenerations of men; and so at last had come back again to the Mark, andhad taken up their habitation at a place in Mid-mark where was dwellingbut a remnant of a House called the Thyrings, who had once been exceedingmighty, but had by that time almost utterly perished in a great sicknesswhich befel in those days. So then these two Houses, the wanderers comeback and the remnant left by the sickness of the Gods, made one Housetogether, and increased and throve after their coming together, andwedded with the Wolfings, and became a very great House.
Gallant and glorious was their array now, as they marched along withtheir banner of the Elk, which was drawn by the very beasts themselvestamed to draught to that end through many generations; they were fatterand sleeker than their wild-wood brethren, but not so mighty.
So were the men of the three kindreds somewhat mingled together on theway. The Wolfings were the tallest and the biggest made; but of thosedark-haired men aforesaid, were there fewest amongst the Beamings, andmost among the Elkings, as though they had drawn to them more men ofalien blood during their wanderings aforesaid. So they talked togetherand made each other good cheer, as is the wont of companions in arms onthe eve of battle; and the talk ran, as may be deemed, on that journeyand what was likely to come of it: and spake an Elking warrior to aWolfing by whom he rode:
"O Wolfkettle, hath the Hall-Sun had any foresight of the day of battle?"
"Nay," said the other, "when she lighted the farewell candle, she bade uscome back again, and spoke of the day of our return; but that methinks,as thou and I would talk of it, thinking what would be likely to befal.Since we are a great host of valiant men, and these Welshmen {2} mostvaliant, and as the rumour runneth bigger-bodied men than the Hun-folk,and so well ordered as never folk have been. So then if we overthrowthem we shall come back again; and if they overthrow us, the remnant ofus shall fall back before them till we come to our habitations; for it isnot to be looked for that they will fall in upon our rear and prevent us,since we have the thicket of the wild-wood on our flanks."
"Sooth is that," said the Elking; "and as to the mightiness of this folkand their customs, ye may gather somewhat from the songs which our Houseyet singeth, and which ye have heard wide about in the Mark; for this isthe same folk of which a many of them tell, making up that story-laywhich is called the South-Welsh Lay; which telleth how we have met thisfolk in times past when we were in fellowship with a folk of the Welsh oflike customs to ourselves: for we of the Elkings were then but a feeblefolk. So we marched with this folk of the Kymry and met the men of thecities, and whiles we overthrew and whiles were overthrown, but at lastin a great battle were overthrown with so great a slaughter, that the redblood rose over the wheels of the wains, and the city-folk fainted withthe work of the slaughter, as men who mow a match in the meadows when theswathes are dry and heavy and the afternoon of midsummer is hot; andthere they stood and stared on the field of the slain, and knew notwhether they were in Home or Hell, so fierce the fight had been."
Therewith a man of the Beamings, who was riding on the other side of theElking, reached out over his horse's neck and said:
"Yea friend, but is there not some telling of a tale concerning how yeand your fellowship took the great city of the Welshmen of the South, anddwelt there long."
"Yea," said the Elking, "Hearken how it is told in the South-Welsh Lay:
"'Have ye not heard Of the ways of Weird? How the folk fared forth Far away from the North? And as light as one wendeth Whereas the wood endeth, When of nought is our need, And none telleth our deed, So Rodgeir unwearied and Reidfari wan The town where none tarried the shield-shaking man. All lonely the street there, and void was the way And nought hindered our feet but the dead men that lay Under shield in the lanes of the houses heavens-high, All the ring-bearing swains that abode there to die.'
"Tells the Lay, that none abode the Goths and their fellowship, but suchas were mighty enough to fall before them, and the rest, both man andwoman, fled away before our folk and before the folk of the Kymry, andleft their town for us to dwell in; as saith the Lay:
"'Glistening of gold Did men's eyen behold; Shook the pale sword O'er the unspoken word, No man drew nigh us With weapon to try us, For the Welsh-wrought shield Lay low on the field. By man's hand unbuilded all seemed there to be, The walls ruddy gilded, the pearls of the sea: Yea all things were dead there save pillar and wall, But _they_ lived and _they_ said us the song of the hall; The dear hall left to perish by men of the land, For the Goth-folk to cherish with gold gaining hand.'
"See ye how the Lay tells that the hall was bolder than the men, who fledfrom it, and left all for our fellowship to deal with in the days goneby?"
Said the Wolfing man:
"And as it was once, so shall it be again. Maybe we shall go far on thisjourney, and see at least one of the garths of the Southlands, even thosewhich they call cities. For I have heard it said that they have morecities than one only, and that so great are their kindreds, that eachliveth in a garth full of mighty houses, with a wall of stone and limearound it; and that in every one of these garths lieth wealth untoldheaped up. And wherefore should not all this fall to the Markmen andtheir valiancy?"
Said the Elking:
"As to their many cities and the wealth of them, that is sooth; but as toeach city being the habitation of each kindred, it is otherwise: forrather it may be said of them that they have forgotten kindred, and havenone, nor do they heed whom they wed, and great is the confusion amongstthem. And mighty men among them ordain where they shall dwell, and whatshall be their meat, and how long they shall labour after they are weary,and in all wise what manner of life shall be amongst them; and thoughthey be called free men who suffer this, yet may no house or kindredgainsay this rule and order. In sooth they are a people mighty, butunhappy."
Said Wolfkettle:
"And hast thou learned all this from the ancient story lays, O Hiarandi?For some of them I know, though not all, and therein have I noted nothingof all this. Is there some new minstrel arisen in thine House of amemory excelling all those that have gone before? If that be so, I bidhim to the Roof of the Wolfings as soon as may be; for we lack newtales."
"Nay," said Hiarandi, "This that I tell thee is not a tale of past days,but a tale of to-day. For there came to us a man from out of the wild-wood, and prayed us peace, and we gave it him; and he told us that he wasof a House of the Gael, and that his House had been in a great battleagainst these Welshmen, whom he calleth the Romans; and that he was takenin the battle, and sold as a thrall in one of their garths; and howbeit,it was not their master-garth, yet there he l
earned of their customs: andsore was the lesson! Hard was his life amongst them, for their thrallsbe not so well entreated as their draught-beasts, so many do they take inbattle; for they are a mighty folk; and these thralls and those aforesaidunhappy freemen do all tilling and herding and all deeds ofcraftsmanship: and above these are men whom they call masters and lordswho do nought, nay not so much as smithy their own edge-weapons, butlinger out their days in their dwellings and out of their dwellings,lying about in the sun or the hall-cinders, like cur-dogs who have fallenaway from kind.
"So this man made a shift to flee away from out of that garth, since itwas not far from the great river; and being a valiant man, and young andmighty of body, he escaped all perils and came to us through theMirkwood. But we saw that he was no liar, and had been very evillyhandled, for upon his body was the mark of many a stripe, and of theshackles that had been soldered on to his limbs; also it was more thanone of these accursed people whom he had slain when he fled. So hebecame our guest and we loved him, and he dwelt among us and yetdwelleth, for we have taken him into our House. But yesterday he wassick and might not ride with us; but may be he will follow on and catchup with us in a day or two. And if he come not, then will I bring himover to the Wolfings when the battle is done."
Then laughed the Beaming man, and spake:
"How then if ye come not back, nor Wolfkettle, nor the Welsh Guest, nor Imyself? Meseemeth no one of these Southland Cities shall we behold, andno more of the Southlanders than their war-array."
"These are evil words," said Wolfkettle, "though such an outcome must bethought on. But why deemest thou this?"
Said the Beaming: "There is no Hall-Sun sitting under our Roof at home totell true tales concerning the Kindred every day. Yet forsooth from timeto time is a word said in our Folk-hall for good or for evil; and who canchoose but hearken thereto? And yestereve was a woeful word spoken, andthat by a man-child of ten winters."
Said the Elking: "Now that thou hast told us thus much, thou must tell usmore, yea, all the word which was spoken; else belike we shall deem of itas worse than it was."
Said the Beaming: "Thus it was; this little lad brake out weepingyestereve, when the Hall was full and feasting; and he wailed, and roaredout, as children do, and would not be pacified, and when he was asked whyhe made that to do, he said: 'Well away! Raven hath promised to make mea clay horse and to bake it in the kiln with the pots next week; and nowhe goeth to the war, and he shall never come back, and never shall myhorse be made.' Thereat we all laughed as ye may well deem. But the ladmade a sour countenance on us and said, 'why do ye laugh? look yonder,what see ye?' 'Nay,' said one, 'nought but the Feast-hall wall and thehangings of the High-tide thereon.' Then said the lad sobbing: 'Ye seeill: further afield see I: I see a little plain, on a hill top, and fellsbeyond it far bigger than our speech-hill: and there on the plain liethRaven as white as parchment; and none hath such hue save the dead.' Thensaid Raven, (and he was a young man, and was standing thereby). 'Andwell is that, swain, to die in harness! Yet hold up thine heart; here isGunbert who shall come back and bake thine horse for thee.' 'Nay nevermore,' quoth the child, 'For I see his pale head lying at Raven's feet;but his body with the green gold-broidered kirtle I see not.' Then wasthe laughter stilled, and man after man drew near to the child, andquestioned him, and asked, 'dost thou see me?' 'dost thou see me?' Andhe failed to see but few of those that asked him. Therefore nowmeseemeth that not many of us shall see the cities of the South, andthose few belike shall look on their own shackles therewithal."
"Nay," said Hiarandi, "What is all this? heard ye ever of a company offighting men that fared afield, and found the foe, and came back homeleaving none behind them?"
Said the Beaming: "Yet seldom have I heard a child foretell the death ofwarriors. I tell thee that hadst thou been there, thou wouldst havethought of it as if the world were coming to an end."
"Well," said Wolfkettle, "let it be as it may! Yet at least I will notbe led away from the field by the foemen. Oft may a man be hindered ofvictory, but never of death if he willeth it."
Therewith he handled a knife that hung about his neck, and went on tosay: "But indeed, I do much marvel that no word came into the mouth ofthe Hall-Sun yestereven or this morning, but such as any woman of thekindred might say."
Therewith fell their talk awhile, and as they rode they came to where thewood drew nigher to the river, and thus the Mid-mark had an end; forthere was no House had a dwelling in the Mid-mark higher up the waterthan the Elkings, save one only, not right great, who mostly fared to waralong with the Elkings: and this was the Oselings, whose banner bore theimage of the Wood-ousel, the black bird with the yellow neb; and they hadjust fallen into the company of the greater House.
So now Mid-mark was over and past, and the serried trees of the wood camedown like a wall but a little way from the lip of the water; andscattered trees, mostly quicken-trees grew here and there on the verywater side. But Mirkwood-water ran deep swift and narrow between highclean-cloven banks, so that none could dream of fording, and not so manyof swimming its dark green dangerous waters. And the day wore on towardsevening and the glory of the western sky was unseen because of the wallof high trees. And still the host made on, and because of the narrownessof the space between river and wood it was strung out longer and looked avery great company of men. And moreover the men of the eastern-lyingpart of Mid-mark, were now marching thick and close on the other side ofthe river but a little way from the Wolfings and their fellows; fornothing but the narrow river sundered them.
So night fell, and the stars shone, and the moon rose, and yet theWolfings and their fellows stayed not, since they wotted that behind themfollowed a many of the men of the Mark, both the Mid and the Nether, andthey would by no means hinder their march.
So wended the Markmen between wood and stream on either side of Mirkwood-water, till now at last the night grew deep and the moon set, and it washard on midnight, and they had kindled many torches to light them oneither side of the water. So whereas they had come to a place where thetrees gave back somewhat from the river, which was well-grassed for theirhorses and neat, and was called Baitmead, the companies on the westernside made stay there till morning. And they drew the wains right up tothe thick of the wood, and all men turned aside into the mead from thebeaten road, so that those who were following after might hold on theirway if so they would. There then they appointed watchers of the night,while the rest of them lay upon the sward by the side of the trees, andslept through the short summer night.
The tale tells not that any man dreamed of the fight to come in such wisethat there was much to tell of his dream on the morrow; many dreamed ofno fight or faring to war, but of matters little, and often laughable,mere mingled memories of bygone time that had no waking wits to marshalthem.
But that man of the Beamings dreamed that he was at home watching apotter, a man of the thralls of the House working at his wheel, andfashioning bowls and ewers: and he had a mind to take of his clay andfashion a horse for the lad that had bemoaned the promise of his toy. Andhe tried long and failed to fashion anything; for the clay fell to piecesin his hands; till at last it held together and grew suddenly, not intoan image of a horse, but of the Great Yule Boar, the similitude of theHoly Beast of Frey. So he laughed in his sleep and was glad, and leapedup and drew his sword with his clay-stained hands that he might wave itover the Earth Boar, and swear a great oath of a doughty deed. Andtherewith he found himself standing on his feet indeed, just awakened inthe cold dawn, and holding by his right hand to an ash-sapling that grewbeside him. So he laughed again, and laid him down, and leaned back andslept his sleep out till the sun and the voices of his fellows stirringawakened him.