House of the Wolfings: The William Morris Book that Inspired J. R. R. Tolkiena *s The Lord of the Rings (18 page)

“But amidst the slain and the hurt our
wedge-array moved forward slowly now, warily shielded against the
plummets and shafts on either side; and when the Romans saw our
unbroken array, and Thiodolf the first with Throng-plough naked in
his hand, they chased not such men of ours unhurt or little hurt,
as drew aback from before them: so these we took amongst us, and
when we had gotten all we might, and held a grim face to the foe,
we drew aback little by little, still facing them till we were out
of shot of their spears, though the shot of the arrows and the
sling-plummets ceased not wholly from us. Thus ended Heriulf’s
Storm.”

Then he rested from his speaking for a
while, and none said aught, but they gazed on him as if he bore
with him a picture of the battle, and many of the women wept
silently for Heriulf, and yet more of the younger ones were wounded
to the heart when they thought of the young men of the Elkings, and
the Beamings, since with both those houses they had affinity; and
they lamented the loves that they had lost, and would have asked
concerning their own speech-friends had they durst. But they held
their peace till the tale was told out to an end.

Then Egil spake again:

“No long while had worn by in Heriulf’s
Storm, and though men’s hearts were nothing daunted, but rather
angered by what had befallen, yet would Thiodolf wear away the time
somewhat more, since he hoped for succour from the Wain-burg and
the Wood; and he would not that any of these Romans should escape
us, but would give them all to Tyr, and to be a following to
Heriulf the Old and the Great.

“So there we abided a while moving nought,
and Thiodolf stood with Throng-plough on his shoulder, unhelmed,
unbyrnied, as though he trusted to the kindred for all defence. Nor
for their part did the Romans dare to leave their vantage-ground,
when they beheld what grim countenance we made them.

“Albeit, when we had thrice made as if we
would fall on, and yet they moved not, whereas it trieth a man
sorely to stand long before the foeman, and do nought but endure,
and whereas many of our bowmen were slain or hurt, and the rest too
few to make head against the shot-weapons of the aliens, then at
last we began to draw nearer and a little nearer, not breaking the
wedge-array; and at last, just before we were within shot of the
cast-spears of their main battle, loud roared our war-horn: then
indeed we broke the wedge-array, but orderly as we knew how,
spreading out from right and left of the War-duke till we were
facing them in a long line: one minute we abode thus, and then ran
forth through the spear-storm: and even therewith we heard, as it
were, the echo of our own horn, and whoso had time to think betwixt
the first of the storm and the handstrokes of the Romans deemed
that now would be coming fresh kindreds for our helping.

“Not long endured the spear-rain, so swift
we were, neither were we in one throng as betid in Heriulf’s Storm,
but spread abroad, each trusting in the other that none thought of
the backward way.

“Though we had the ground against us we
dashed like fresh men at their pales, and were under the weapons at
once. Then was the battle grim; they could not thrust us back, nor
did we break their array with our first storm; man hewed at man as
if there were no foes in the world but they two: sword met sword,
and sax met sax; it was thrusting and hewing with point and edge,
and no long-shafted weapons were of any avail; there we fought hand
to hand and no man knew by eyesight how the battle went two yards
from where he fought, and each one put all his heart in the stroke
he was then striking, and thought of nothing else.

“Yet at the last we felt that they were
faltering and that our work was easier and our hope higher; then we
cried our cries and pressed on harder, and in that very nick of
time there arose close behind us the roar of the Markmen’s horn and
the cries of the kindreds answering ours. Then such of the Romans
as were not in the very act of smiting, or thrusting, or clinging
or shielding, turned and fled, and the whoop of victory rang around
us, and the earth shook, and past the place of the slaughter rushed
the riders of the Goths; for they had sent horsemen to us, and the
paths were grown easier for our much treading of them. Then I
beheld Thiodolf, that he had just slain a foe, and clear was the
space around him, and he rushed sideways and caught hold of the
stirrup of Angantyr of the Bearings, and ran ten strides beside
him, and then bounded on afoot swifter than the red horses of the
Bearings, urging on the chase, as his wont was.

“But we who were wearier, when we had done
our work, stood still between the living and the dead, between the
freemen of the Mark and their war-thralls. And in no long while
there came back to us Thiodolf and the chasers, and we made a great
ring on the field of the slain, and sang the Song of Triumph; and
it was the Wolfing Song that we sang.

“Thus then ended Thiodolf’s Storm.”

When he held his peace there was but little
noise among the stay-at-homes, for still were they thinking about
the deaths of their kindred and their lovers. But Egil spoke
again.

“Yet within that ring lay the sorrow of our
hearts; for Odin had called a many home, and there lay their
bodies; and the mightiest was Heriulf; and the Romans had taken him
up from where he fell, and cast him down out of the way, but they
had not stripped him, and his hand still gripped the Wolf’s-sister.
His shield was full of shafts of arrows and spears; his byrny was
rent in many places, his helm battered out of form. He had been
grievously hurt in the side and in the thigh by cast-spears or ever
he came to hand-blows with the Romans, but moreover he had three
great wounds from the point of the sax, in the throat, in the side,
in the belly, each enough for his bane. His face was yet fair to
look on, and we deemed that he had died smiling.

“At his feet lay a young man of the Beamings
in a gay green coat, and beside him was the head of another of his
House, but his green-clad body lay some yards aloof. There lay of
the Elkings a many. Well may ye weep, maidens, for them that loved
you. Now fare they to the Gods a goodly company, but a goodly
company is with them.

“Seventy and seven of the Sons of the Goths
lay dead within the Roman battle, and fifty-four on the slope
before it; and to boot there were twenty-four of us slain by the
arrows and plummets of the shooters, and a many hurt withal.

“But there were no hurt men inside the Roman
array or before it. All were slain outright, for the hurt men
either dragged themselves back to our folk, or onward to the Roman
ranks, that they might die with one more stroke smitten.

“Now of the aliens the dead lay in heaps in
that place, for grim was the slaughter when the riders of the
Bearings and the Wormings fell on the aliens; and a many of the
foemen scorned to flee, but died where they stood, craving no
peace; and to few of them was peace given. There fell of the Roman
footmen five hundred and eighty and five, and the remnant that fled
was but little: but of the slingers and bowmen but eighty and six
were slain, for they were there to shoot and not to stand; and they
were nimble and fleet of foot, men round of limb, very
dark-skinned, but not foul of favour.”

Then he said:

There are men through the dusk a-faring, our
speech-fiends and our kin,

No more shall they crave our helping, nor
ask what work to win;

They have done their deeds and departed when
they had holpen the House,

So high their heads are holden, and their
hurts are glorious

With the story of strokes stricken, and new
weapons to be met,

And new scowling of foes’ faces, and new
curses unknown yet.

Lo, they dight the feast in Godhome, and
fair are the tables spread,

Late come, but well-beloved is every
war-worn head,

And the God-folk and the Fathers, as these
cross the tinkling bridge,

Crowd round and crave for stories of the
Battle on the Ridge.

Therewith he came down from the Speech-Hill
and the women-folk came round about him, and they brought him to
the Hall, and washed him, and gave him meat and drink; and then
would he sleep, for he was weary.

Howbeit some of the women could not refrain
themselves, but must needs ask after their speech-friends who had
been in the battle; and he answered as he could, and some he made
glad, and some sorry; and as to some, he could not tell them
whether their friends were alive or dead. So he went to his place
and fell asleep and slept long, while the women went down to acre
and meadow, or saw to the baking of bread or the sewing of
garments, or went far afield to tend the neat and the sheep.

Howbeit the Hall-Sun went not with them; but
she talked with that old warrior, Sorli, who was now halt and grown
unmeet for the road, but was a wise man; and she and he together
with some old carlines and a few young lads fell to work, and saw
to many matters about the Hall and the garth that day; and they got
together what weapons there were both for shot and for the
hand-play, and laid them where they were handy to come at, and they
saw to the meal in the hall that there was provision for many days;
and they carried up to a loft above the Women’s-Chamber many great
vessels of water, lest the fire should take the Hall; and they
looked everywhere to the entrances and windows and had fastenings
and bolts and bars fashioned and fitted to them; and saw that all
things were trim and stout. And so they abided the issue.

Chapter 16

How the Dwarf-Wrought Hauberk

Was Brought Away

From the Hall of the Daylings

Now it must be told that early in the
morning, after the night when Gisli had brought to the Wolfing
Stead the tidings of the Battle in the Wood, a man came riding from
the south to the Dayling abode. It was just before sunrise, and but
few folk were stirring about the dwellings. He rode up to the Hall
and got off his black horse, and tied it to a ring in the wall by
the Man’s-door, and went in clashing, for he was in his
battle-gear, and had a great wide-rimmed helm on his head.

Folk were but just astir in the Hall, and
there came an old woman to him, and looked on him and saw by his
attire that he was a man of the Goths and of the Wolfing kindred;
so she greeted him kindly: but he said:

“Mother, I am come hither on an errand, and
time presses.”

Said she: “Yea, my son, or what tidings
bearest thou from the south? for by seeming thou art new-come from
the host.”

Said he: “The tidings are as yesterday, save
that Thiodolf will lead the host through the wild-wood to look for
the Romans beyond it: therefore will there soon be battle again.
See ye, Mother, hast thou here one that knoweth this ring of
Thiodolf’s, if perchance men doubt me when I say that I am sent on
my errand by him?”

“Yea,” she said, “Agni will know it; since
he knoweth all the chief men of the Mark; but what is thine errand,
and what is thy name?”

“It is soon told,” said he, “I am a Wolfing
hight Thorkettle, and I come to have away for Thiodolf the treasure
of the world, the Dwarf-wrought Hauberk, which he left with you
when we fared hence to the south three days ago. Now let Agni come,
that I may have it, for time presses sorely.”

There were three or four gathered about them
now, and a maiden of them said: “Shall I bring Agni hither,
mother?”

“What needeth it?” said the carline, “he
sleepeth, and shall be hard to awaken; and he is old, so let him
sleep. I shall go fetch the hauberk, for I know where it is, and my
hand may come on it as easily as on mine own girdle.”

So she went her ways to the treasury where
were the precious things of the kindred; the woven cloths were put
away in fair coffers to keep them clean from the whirl of the
Hall-dust and the reek; and the vessels of gold and some of silver
were standing on the shelves of a cupboard before which hung a veil
of needlework: but the weapons and war-gear hung upon pins along
the wall, and many of them had much fair work on them, and were
dight with gold and gems: but amidst them all was the wondrous
hauberk clear to see, dark grey and thin, for it was so wondrously
wrought that it hung in small compass. So the carline took it down
from the pin, and handled it, and marvelled at it, and said:

“Strange are the hands that have passed over
thee, sword-rampart, and in strange places of the earth have they
dwelt! For no smith of the kindreds hath fashioned thee, unless he
had for his friend either a God or a foe of the Gods. Well shalt
thou wot of the tale of sword and spear ere thou comest back
hither! For Thiodolf shall bring thee where the work is wild.”

Then she went with the hauberk to the
new-come warrior, and made no delay, but gave it to him, and
said:

“When Agni awaketh, I shall tell him that
Thorkettle of the Wolfings hath borne aback to Thiodolf the
Treasure of the World, the Dwarf-wrought Hauberk.”

Then Thorkettle took it and turned to go;
but even therewith came old Asmund from out of his sleeping-place,
and gazed around the Hall, and his eyes fell on the shape of the
Wolfing as he was going out of the door, and he asked the
carline.

“What doeth he here? What tidings is there
from the host? For my soul was nought unquiet last night.”

“It is a little matter,” she said; “the
War-duke hath sent for the wondrous Byrny that he left in our
treasury when he departed to meet the Romans. Belike there shall be
a perilous battle, and few hearts need a stout sword-wall more than
Thiodolf’s.”

As she spoke, Thorkettle had passed the
door, and got into his saddle, and sat his black horse like a
mighty man as he slowly rode down the turf bridge that led into the
plain. And Asmund went to the door and stood watching him till he
set spurs to his horse, and departed a great gallop to the south.
Then said Asmund: