The Roots of the Mountains

  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 Hall tothe house where the Bride lay; and the swain who had brought the messagewent along with him, and he was proud of walking beside so mighty awarrior, and he talked to Folk-might as they went; and the sound of hisvoice was irksome to the chieftain, but he made as though he hearkened.Yet when they came to the door of the house, which was just out of thePlace on the Southern road (for thereby had the Bride fallen to earth),he could withhold his grief no longer, but turned on the threshold andlaid his head on the door-jamb, and sobbed and wept till the tears felldown like rain. And the boy stood by wondering, and wishing thatFolk-might would forbear weeping, 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 with fursthe wounded woman; and at first sight he deemed her not so pale as helooked to see her, as she lay with her long dark-red hair strewed overthe pillow, her head moving about wearily. A linen cloth was thrown overher body, but her arms lay out of it before her. Beside her sat theAlderman, his face sober enough, but not as one in heavy sorrow; andanigh him was another chair as if someone had but just got up from it.There was no one else in the hall save two women of the Woodlanders, oneof whom was cooking some potion on the hearth, and another was sweepingthe floor anigh of bran or some such stuff, which had been thrown down tosop up the blood.

  So Folk-might went up to the Bride, sorely dreading the image of deathwhich she had grown to be, and sorely loving the woman she was and wouldbe.

  He knelt down by the bedside, heeding Iron-face little, though he noddedfriendly to him, and he held his face close to hers; but she had her eyesshut and did not open them till he had been there a little while; andthen they opened and fixed themselves on his without surprise or change.Then she lifted her right hand (for it was in her left shoulder and sidethat she had been hurt) and slowly laid it on his head, and drew his faceto hers and kissed it fondly, as she both smiled and let the tears runover from her eyes. Then she 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 if thouwert not to go from me, yet in a manner should I go from thee. For I amgrievously hurt, and I know by myself, and also the leeches have told me,that the fever is a-coming on me; so that presently I shall not knowthee, but may deem thee to be a woman, or a hound, or the very Wolf thatis the image of the Father of thy kindred; or even, it may be, someoneelse—that I have played with time agone.’

  Her voice faltered and faded out here, and she was silent a while; thenshe said:

  ‘So depart, kind friend and dear love, bearing this word with thee, thatshould I die, I call on Iron-face my kinsman to bear witness that I bidthee carry me to bale in Silver-dale, and lay mine ashes with the ashesof thy Fathers, with whom thine own shall mingle at the last, since Ihave been of the warriors who have helped to bring thee aback to the landof thy folk.’

  Then she smiled and shut her eyes and said: ‘And if I live, as indeed Ihope, and how glad and glad I shall be to live, then shalt thou bring meto thy house and thy bed, that I may not depart from thee while both ourlives last.’

  And she opened her eyes and looked at him; and he might not speak for awhile, so ravished as he was betwixt joy and sorrow. But the Aldermanarose 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 mine armbetwixt the Folk and the God in all man-motes, and I bore it through thebattle to-day; and it is as holy a ring as may be; and since ye areplighting troth, and I am the witness thereof, it were good that ye heldthis ring together and called the God to witness, who is akin to the Godof the Earth, as we all be. Take the ring, Folk-might, for I trust thee;and of all women now alive would I have this woman happy.’

  So Folk-might took the ring and thrust his hand through it, and took herhand, 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, the Bride ofthe House of the Steer!’

  His face was flushed and bright as he spoke, but as his words ceased henoted how feebly her hand lay in his, and his face fell, and he gazed onher timidly. But she lay quiet, and said softly and slowly:

  ‘O Fathers of my kindred! O Warrior and God of the Earth! bear witnessthat I plight my troth to this man, to lie in his grave if I die, and inhis bed if I live.’

  And she smiled on him again, and then closed her eyes; but opened thempresently 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. Hefared in the fight as if he had been our Father the Warrior: he is agreat chieftain.’

  She said: ‘Wilt thou give him this message from me, that in no wise heforget the oath which he swore upon the finger-ring as it lay on thesundial of the Garden of the Face? And say, moreover, that I am sorrythat we shall part, and have between us such breadth of wild-wood andmountain-neck.’

  ‘Yea, surely will I give thy message,’ said Folk-might; and in his hearthe rejoiced, because he heard her speak as if she were sure of life.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, lestthe 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 old manlooked on him steadily, and said: ‘To-morrow or the day after I willutter 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, wherehe sat before the altar of the Crooked Sword; and now were the chiefscome back from their meat, and were sitting with him; there also wereWood-father and Wood-wont; but Bow-may was with the Sun-beam, who wasresting softly in the fair meadow after all the turmoil.

  So men made place for Folk-might beside the War-leader, who looked uponhis face, and saw that it was sober and unsmiling, but not heavy or moodywith grief. So he deemed that all was as well as it might be with theBride, and with a good heart fell to taking counsel with the others; andkindly and friendly were the redes which they held there, with nogainsaying of man by man, for the whole folk was glad at heart.

  So there they ordered all matters duly for that present time, and by thenthey had made an end, it was past sunset, and men were lodged in thechief houses about the Market-stead.

  Albeit, though they ate their meat with all joy of heart, and were merryin converse one with the other, the men of the Wolf would by no meansfeast in their Hall again till it had been cleansed and hallowed anew.