House of the Wolfings: The William Morris Book that Inspired J. R. R. Tolkiena *s The Lord of the Rings (10 page)

Said the Elking: “Now that thou hast told us
thus much, thou must tell us more, yea, all the word which was
spoken; else belike we shall deem of it as worse than it was.”

Said the Beaming: “Thus it was; this little
lad brake out weeping yestereve, when the Hall was full and
feasting; and he wailed, and roared out, as children do, and would
not be pacified, and when he was asked why he made that to do, he
said: ‘Well away! Raven hath promised to make me a clay horse and
to bake it in the kiln with the pots next week; and now he goeth to
the war, and he shall never come back, and never shall my horse be
made.’ Thereat we all laughed as ye may well deem. But the lad made
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
the hangings of the High-tide thereon.’ Then said the lad sobbing:
‘Ye see ill: further afield see I: I see a little plain, on a hill
top, and fells beyond it far bigger than our speech-hill: and there
on the plain lieth Raven as white as parchment; and none hath such
hue save the dead.’ Then said Raven, (and he was a young man, and
was standing thereby). ‘And well is that, swain, to die in harness!
Yet hold up thine heart; here is Gunbert who shall come back and
bake thine horse for thee.’ ‘Nay never more,’ 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 was the laughter
stilled, and man after man drew near to the child, and questioned
him, and asked, ‘dost thou see me?’ ‘dost thou see me?’ And he
failed to see but few of those that asked him. Therefore now
meseemeth that not many of us shall see the cities of the South,
and those few belike shall look on their own shackles
therewithal.”

“Nay,” said Hiarandi, “What is all this?
heard ye ever of a company of fighting men that fared afield, and
found the foe, and came back home leaving none behind them?”

Said the Beaming: “Yet seldom have I heard a
child foretell the death of warriors. I tell thee that hadst thou
been there, thou wouldst have thought 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 not be led away from the field by the
foemen. Oft may a man be hindered of victory, but never of death if
he willeth it.”

Therewith he handled a knife that hung about
his neck, and went on to say: “But indeed, I do much marvel that no
word came into the mouth of the Hall-Sun yestereven or this
morning, but such as any woman of the kindred might say.”

Therewith fell their talk awhile, and as
they rode they came to where the wood drew nigher to the river, and
thus the Mid-mark had an end; for there was no House had a dwelling
in the Mid-mark higher up the water than the Elkings, save one
only, not right great, who mostly fared to war along with the
Elkings: and this was the Oselings, whose banner bore the image of
the Wood-ousel, the black bird with the yellow neb; and they had
just fallen into the company of the greater House.

So now Mid-mark was over and past, and the
serried trees of the wood came down like a wall but a little way
from the lip of the water; and scattered trees, mostly
quicken-trees, grew here and there on the very water side. But
Mirkwood-water ran deep, swift and narrow between high clean-cloven
banks, so that none could dream of fording, and not so many of
swimming its dark green dangerous waters. And the day wore on
towards evening and the glory of the western sky was unseen because
of the wall of high trees. And still the host made on, and because
of the narrowness of the space between river and wood it was strung
out longer and looked a very great company of men. And moreover the
men of the eastern-lying part of Mid-mark, were now marching thick
and close on the other side of the river but a little way from the
Wolfings and their fellows; for nothing but the narrow river
sundered them.

So night fell, and the stars shone, and the
moon rose, and yet the Wolfings and their fellows stayed not, since
they wotted that behind them followed a many of the men of the
Mark, both the Mid and the Nether, and they 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 was hard on midnight, and they
had kindled many torches to light them on either side of the water.
So whereas they had come to a place where the trees gave back
somewhat from the river, which was well-grassed for their horses
and neat, and was called Baitmead, the companies on the western
side made stay there till morning. And they drew the wains right up
to the thick of the wood, and all men turned aside into the mead
from the beaten road, so that those who were following after might
hold on their way 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, and slept through the short summer
night.

The tale tells not that any man dreamed of
the fight to come in such wise that there was much to tell of his
dream on the morrow; many dreamed of no fight or faring to war, but
of matters little, and often laughable, mere mingled memories of
bygone time that had no waking wits to marshal them.

But that man of the Beamings dreamed that he
was at home watching a potter, a man of the thralls of the House
working at his wheel, and fashioning bowls and ewers: and he had a
mind to take of his clay and fashion a horse for the lad that had
bemoaned the promise of his toy. And he tried long and failed to
fashion anything; for the clay fell to pieces in his hands; till at
last it held together and grew suddenly, not into an image of a
horse, but of the Great Yule Boar, the similitude of the Holy Beast
of Frey. So he laughed in his sleep and was glad, and leaped up and
drew his sword with his clay-stained hands that he might wave it
over the Earth Boar, and swear a great oath of a doughty deed. And
therewith he found himself standing on his feet indeed, just
awakened in the cold dawn, and holding by his right hand to an
ash-sapling that grew beside him. So he laughed again, and laid him
down, and leaned back and slept his sleep out till the sun and the
voices of his fellows stirring awakened him.

Chapter 7

They Gather to the Folk-Mote

When it was the morning, all the host of the
Markmen was astir on either side of the water, and when they had
broken their fast, they got speedily into array, and were presently
on the road again; and the host was now strung out longer yet, for
the space between water and wood once more diminished till at last
it was no wider than ten men might go abreast, and looking ahead it
was as if the wild-wood swallowed up both river and road.

But the fighting-men hastened on merrily
with their hearts raised high, since they knew that they would soon
be falling in with more of their people, and the coming fight was
growing a clearer picture to their eyes; so from side to side of
the river they shouted out the cries of their Houses, or friend
called to friend across the eddies of Mirkwood-water, and there was
game and glee enough.

So they fared till the wood gave way before
them, and lo, the beginning of another plain, somewhat like the
Mid-mark. There also the water widened out before them, and there
were eyots in it with stony shores crowned with willow or with
alder, and aspens rising from the midst of them.

But as for the plain, it was thus much
different from Mid-mark, that the wood which begirt it rose on the
south into low hills, and away beyond them were other hills blue in
the distance, for the most bare of wood, and not right high, the
pastures of the wild-bull and the bison, whereas now dwelt a folk
somewhat scattered and feeble; hunters and herdsmen, with little
tillage about their abodes, a folk akin to the Markmen and allied
to them. They had come into those parts later than the Markmen, as
the old tales told; which said moreover that in days gone by a folk
dwelt among those hills who were alien from the Goths, and great
foes to the Markmen; and how that on a time they came down from
their hills with a great host, together with new-comers of their
own blood, and made their way through the wild-wood, and fell upon
the Upper-mark; and how that there befel a fearful battle that
endured for three days; and the first day the Aliens worsted the
Markmen, who were but a few, since they were they of the Upper-mark
only. So the Aliens burned their houses and slew their old men, and
drave off many of their women and children; and the remnant of the
men of the Upper-mark with all that they had, which was now but
little, took refuge in an island of Mirkwood-water, where they
fenced themselves as well as they could for that night; for they
expected the succour of their kindred of the Mid-mark and the
Nether-mark, unto whom they had sped the war-arrow when they first
had tidings of the onset of the Aliens.

So at the sun-rising they sacrificed to the
Gods twenty chieftains of the Aliens whom they had taken, and
therewithal a maiden of their own kindred, the daughter of their
war-duke, that she might lead that mighty company to the House of
the Gods; and thereto was she nothing loth, but went right
willingly.

There then they awaited the onset. But the
men of Mid-mark came up in the morning, when the battle was but
just joined, and fell on so fiercely that the aliens gave back, and
then they of the Upper-mark stormed out of their eyot, and fell on
over the ford, and fought till the water ran red with their blood,
and the blood of the foemen. So the Aliens gave back before the
onset of the Markmen all over the meads; but when they came to the
hillocks and the tofts of the half-burned habitations, and the wood
was on their flank, they made a stand again, and once more the
battle waxed hot, for they were very many, and had many bow-men:
there fell the War-duke of the Markmen, whose daughter had been
offered up for victory, and his name was Agni, so that the tofts
where he fell have since been called Agni’s Tofts. So that day they
fought all over the plain, and a great many died, both of the
Aliens and the Markmen, and though these last were victorious, yet
when the sun went down there still were the Aliens abiding in the
Upper-mark, fenced by their Wain-burg, beaten, and much diminished
in number, but still a host of men: while of the Markmen many had
fallen, and many more were hurt, because the Aliens were good
bowmen.

But on the morrow again, as the old tale
told, came up the men of the Nether-mark fresh and unwounded; and
so the battle began again on the southern limit of the Upper-mark
where the Aliens had made their Wain-burg. But not long did it
endure; for the Markmen fell on so fiercely, that they stormed over
the Wain-burg, and slew all before them, and there was a very great
slaughter of the Aliens; so great, tells the old tale, that never
again durst they meet the Markmen in war.

Thus went forth the host of the Markmen,
faring along both sides of the water into the Upper-mark; and on
the west side, where went the Wolfings, the ground now rose by a
long slope into a low hill, and when they came unto the brow
thereof, they beheld before them the whole plain of the Upper-mark,
and the dwellings of the kindred therein all girdled about by the
wild-wood; and beyond, the blue hills of the herdsmen, and beyond
them still, a long way aloof, lying like a white cloud on the verge
of the heavens, the snowy tops of the great mountains. And as they
looked down on to the plain they saw it embroidered, as it were,
round about the habitations which lay within ken by crowds of many
people, and the banners of the kindreds and the arms of men; and
many a place they saw named after the ancient battle and that great
slaughter of the Aliens.

On their left hand lay the river, and as it
now fairly entered with them into the Upper-mark, it spread out
into wide rippling shallows beset with yet more sandy eyots,
amongst which was one much greater, rising amidmost into a low
hill, grassy and bare of tree or bush; and this was the island
whereon the Markmen stood on the first day of the Great Battle, and
it was now called the Island of the Gods.

Thereby was the ford, which was firm and
good and changed little from year to year, so that all Markmen knew
it well and it was called Battleford: thereover now crossed all the
eastern companies, footmen and horsemen, freemen and thralls, wains
and banners, with shouting and laughter, and the noise of horns and
the lowing of neat, till all that plain’s end was flooded with the
host of the Markmen.

But when the eastern-abiders had crossed,
they made no stay, but went duly ordered about their banners,
winding on toward the first of the abodes on the western side of
the water; because it was but a little way south-west of this that
the Thing-stead of the Upper-mark lay; and the whole Folk was
summoned thither when war threatened from the South, just as it was
called to the Thing-stead of the Nether-mark, when the threat of
war came from the North. But the western companies stayed on the
brow of that low hilt till all the eastern men were over the river,
and on their way to the Thing-stead, and then they moved on.

So came the Wolfings and their fellows up to
the dwellings of the northernmost kindred, who were called the
Daylings, and bore on their banner the image of the rising sun.
Thereabout was the Mark somewhat more hilly and broken than in the
Mid-mark, so that the Great Roof of the Daylings, which was a very
big house, stood on a hillock whose sides had been cleft down sheer
on all sides save one (which was left as a bridge) by the labour of
men, and it was a very defensible place.

Thereon were now gathered round about the
Roof all the stay-at-homes of the kindred, who greeted with joyous
cries the men-at-arms as they passed. Albeit one very old man, who
sat in a chair near to the edge of the sheer hill looking on the
war array, when he saw the Wolfing banner draw near, stood up to
gaze on it, and then shook his head sadly, and sank back again into
his chair, and covered his face with his hands: and when the folk
saw that, a silence bred of the coldness of fear fell on them, for
that elder was deemed a foreseeing man.