House of the Wolfings: The William Morris Book that Inspired J. R. R. Tolkiena *s The Lord of the Rings (22 page)

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Authors: Michael W. Perry

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BOOK: House of the Wolfings: The William Morris Book that Inspired J. R. R. Tolkiena *s The Lord of the Rings
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Crows the red cock over the homesteads, have
we met the foe too late?

For meseems your brows are heavy with the
shadowing o’er of fate.

But Geirbald answered:

Still cold with dew in the morning the
Shielding Roof-ridge stands,

Nor yet hath grey Hell bounden the Shielding
warriors’ hands;

But lo, the swords, O War-duke, how thick in
the wind they shake,

Because we bear the message that the
battle-road ye take,

Nor tarry for the thunder or the coming on
of rain,

Or the windy cloudy night-tide, lest your
battle be but vain.

And this is the word that Otter yestre’en
hath set in my mouth;

Seek thou the trail of the Aliens of the
Cities of the South,

And thou shalt find it leading o’er the
heaths to the beechen-wood,

And thence to the stony places where the
foxes find their food;

And thence to the tangled thicket where the
folkway cleaves it through,

To the eastern edge of Mid-mark where the
Bearings deal and do.

Then said Thiodolf in a cold voice, “What
then hath befallen Otter?”

Said Geirbald:

When last I looked upon Otter, all armed he
rode the plain,

With his whole host clattering round him
like the rush of the summer rain;

To the right or the left they looked not but
they rode through the dusk and the dark

Beholding nought before them but the dream
of the foes in the Mark.

So he went; but his word fled from him and
on my horse it rode,

And again it saith, O War-duke seek thou the
Bear’s abode,

And tarry never a moment for ought that
seems of worth,

For there shall ye find the sword-edge and
the flame of the foes of the earth.

“Tarry not, Thiodolf, nor turn aback though
a new foe followeth on thine heels. No need to question me more; I
have no more to tell, save that a woman brought these tidings to
us, whom the Hall-Sun had sent with others to watch the ways: and
some of them had seen the Romans, who are a great host and no band
stealing forth to lift the herds.”

Now all those round about him heard his
words, for he spake with a loud voice; and they knew what the
bidding of the War-duke would be; so they loitered not, but each
man went about his business of looking to his war-gear and
gathering to the appointed place of his kindred. And even while
Geirbald had been speaking, had Hiarandi brought up the man who
bore the great horn, who when Thiodolf leapt to his feet to find
him, was close at hand. So he bade him blow the war-blast, and all
men knew the meaning of that voice of the horn, and every man armed
him in haste, and they who had horses (and these were but the
Bearings and the Warnings), saddled them, and mounted, and from
mouth to mouth went the word that the Romans were gotten into
Mid-mark, and were burning the Bearing abodes. So speedily was the
whole host ready for the way, the Wolfings at the head of all. Then
came forth Thiodolf from the midst of his kindred, and they raised
him upon a great war-shield upheld by many men, and he stood
thereon and spake:

O sons of Tyr, ye have vanquished, and sore
hath been your pain;

But he that smiteth in battle must ever
smite again;

And thus with you it fareth, and the day
abideth yet

When ye shall hold the Aliens as the fishes
in the net.

On the Ridge ye slew a many; but there came
a many more

From their strongholds by the water to their
new-built garth of war,

And all these have been led by dastards o’er
the way our feet must tread

Through the eastern heaths and the beechwood
to the door of the Bearing stead,

Now e’en yesterday I deemed it, but I durst
not haste away

Ere the word was borne to Otter and ‘tis he
bids haste to-day;

So now by day and by night-tide it behoveth
us to wend

And wind the reel of battle and weave its
web to end.

Had ye deemed my eyes foreseeing, I would
tell you of my sight,

How I see the folk delivered and the Aliens
turned to flight,

While my own feet wend them onwards to the
ancient Father’s Home.

But belike these are but the visions that to
many a man shall come

When he goeth adown to the battle, and
before him riseth high

The wall of valiant foemen to hide all
things anigh.

But indeed I know full surely that no work
that we may win

To-morrow or the next day shall quench the
Markmen’s kin.

On many a day hereafter shall their warriors
carry shield;

On many a day their maidens shall drive the
kine afield,

On many a day their reapers bear sickle in
the wheat

When the golden wind-wrought ripple stirs
round the feast-hall’s feet.

Lo, now is the day’s work easy—to live and
overcome,

Or to die and yet to conquer on the
threshold of the Home.

And therewith he gat him down and went
a-foot to the head of the Wolfing band, a great shout going with
him, which was mingled with the voice of the war-horn that bade
away.

So fell the whole host into due array, and
they were somewhat over three thousand warriors, all good and tried
men and meet to face the uttermost of battle in the open field; so
they went their ways with all the speed that footmen may, and in
fair order; and the sky cleared above their heads, but the distant
thunder still growled about the world. Geirbald and Viglund joined
themselves to the Wolfings and went a-foot along with Wolfkettle;
but Hiarandi went with his kindred who were second in the
array.

Chapter 20

Otter and his Folk Come into Mid-mark

Otter and his folk rode their ways along
Mirkwood-water, and made no stay, except now and again to breathe
their horses, till they came to Battleford in the early morning;
there they baited their horses, for the grass was good in the
meadow, and the water easy to come at.

So after they had rested there a short hour,
and had eaten what was easy for them to get, they crossed the ford,
and wended along Mirkwood-water between the wood and the river, but
went slower than before lest they should weary their horses; so
that it was high-noon before they had come out of the woodland way
into Mid-mark; and at once as soon as the whole plain of the Mark
opened out before them, they saw what most of them looked to see
(since none doubted Hrosshild’s tale), and that was a column of
smoke rising high and straight up into the air, for the afternoon
was hot and windless. Great wrath rose in their hearts thereat, and
many a strong man trembled for anger, though none for fear, as
Otter raised his right hand and stretched it out towards that token
of wrack and ruin; yet they made no stay, nor did they quicken
their pace much; because they knew that they should come to Bearham
before night-fall, and they would not meet the Romans way-worn and
haggard; but they rode on steadily, a terrible company of wrathful
men.

They passed by the dwellings of the
kindreds, though save for the Galtings the houses on the east side
of the water between the Bearings and the wild-wood road were but
small; for the thicket came somewhat near to the water and pinched
the meadows. But the Galtings were great hunters and trackers of
the wild-wood, and they of the Geddings, the Erings and the
Withings, which were smaller Houses, lived somewhat on the take of
fish from Mirkwood-water (as did the Laxings also of the
Nether-mark), for thereabout were there goodly pools and eddies,
and sun-warmed shallows therewithal for the spawning of the trouts;
as there were eyots in the water, most of which tailed off into a
gravelly shallow at their lower ends.

Now as the riders of the Goths came over
against the dwellings of the Withings, they saw people, mostly
women, driving up the beasts from the meadow towards the garth; but
upon the tofts about their dwellings were gathered many folk, who
had their eyes turned toward the token of ravage that hung in the
sky above the fair plain; but when these beheld the riding of the
host, they tossed up their arms to them and whatever they bore in
them, and the sound of their shrill cry (for they were all women
and young lads) came down the wind to the ears of the riders. But
down by the river on a swell of the ground were some swains and a
few thralls, and among them some men armed and a-horseback; and
these, when they perceived the host coming on turned and rode to
meet them; and as they drew near they shouted as men overjoyed to
meet their kindred; and indeed the fighting-men of their own House
were riding in the host. And the armed men were three old men, and
one very old with marvellous long white hair, and four long lads of
some fifteen winters, and four stout carles of the thralls bearing
bows and bucklers, and these rode behind the swains; so they found
their own kindred and rode amongst them.

But when they were all jingling and clashing
on together, the dust arising from the sun-dried turf, the earth
shaking with the thunder of the horse-hoofs, then the heart of the
long-hoary one stirred within him as he bethought him of the days
of his youth, and to his old nostrils came the smell of the horses
and the savour of the sweat of warriors riding close together knee
to knee adown the meadow. So he lifted up his voice and sang:

Rideth lovely along

The strong by the strong;

Soft under his breath

Singeth sword in the sheath,

And shield babbleth oft

Unto helm-crest aloft;

How soon shall their words rise mid wrath of
the battle

Into wrangle unheeded of clanging and
rattle,

And no man shall note then the gold on the
sword

When the runes have no meaning, the
mouth-cry no word,

When all mingled together, the war-sea of
men

Shall toss up the steel-spray round
fourscore and ten.

Now as maids burn the weed

Betwixt acre and mead,

So the Bearings’ Roof

Burneth little aloof,

And red gloweth the hall

Betwixt wall and fair wall,

Where often the mead-sea we sipped in old
days,

When our feet were a-weary with wending the
ways;

When the love of the lovely at even was
born,

And our hands felt fair hands as they fell
on the horn.

There round about standeth the ring of the
foe

Tossing babes on their spears like the weeds
o’er the low.

Ride, ride then! nor spare

The red steeds as ye fare!

Yet if daylight shall fail,

By the fire-light of bale

Shall we see the bleared eyes

Of the war-learned, the wise.

In the acre of battle the work is to
win,

Let us live by the labour, sheaf-smiting
therein;

And as oft o’er the sickle we sang in time
past

When the crake that long mocked us fled
light at the last,

So sing o’er the sword, and the
sword-hardened hand

Bearing down to the reaping the wrath of the
land.

So he sang; and a great shout went up from
his kindred and those around him, and it was taken up all along the
host, though many knew not why they shouted, and the whole host
quickened its pace, and went a great trot over the smooth
meadow.

So in no long while were they come over
against the stead of the Erings, and thereabouts were no beasts
a-field, and no women, for all the neat were driven into the garth
of the House; but all they who were not war-fit were standing
without doors looking down the Mark towards the reek of the Bearing
dwellings, and these also sent a cry of welcome toward the host of
their kindred. But along the river-bank came to meet the host an
armed band of two old men, two youths who were their sons, and
twelve thralls who were armed with long spears; and all these were
a-horseback: so they fell in with their kindred and the host made
no stay for them, but pressed on over-running the meadow. And still
went up that column of smoke, and thicker and blacker it grew
a-top, and ruddier amidmost.

So came they by the abode of the Geddings,
and there also the neat and sheep were close in the home-garth: but
armed men were lying or standing about the river bank, talking or
singing merrily none otherwise than though deep peace were on the
land; and when they saw the faring of the host they sprang to their
feet with a shout and gat to their horses at once: they were more
than the other bands had been, for the Geddings were a greater
House; they were seven old men, and ten swains, and ten thralls
bearing long spears like to those of the Erings; and no sooner had
they fallen in with their kindred, than the men of the host espied
a greater company yet coming to meet them: and these were of the
folk of the Galtings; and amongst them were ten warriors in their
prime, because they had but of late come back from the hunting in
the wood and had been belated from the muster of the kindreds; and
with them were eight old men and fifteen lads, and eighteen
thralls; and the swains and thralls all bore bows besides the
swords that they were girt withal, and not all of them had horses,
but they who had none rode behind the others: so they joined
themselves to the host, shouting aloud; and they had with them a
great horn that they blew on till they had taken their place in the
array; and whereas their kindred was with Thiodolf, they followed
along with the hinder men of the Shieldings.

So now all the host went on together, and
when they had passed the Galting abodes, there was nothing between
them and Bearham, nor need they look for any further help of men;
there were no beasts afield nor any to herd them, and the
stay-at-homes were within doors dighting them for departure into
the wild-wood if need should be: but a little while after they had
passed these dwellings came into the host two swains of about
twenty winters, and a doughty maid, their sister, and they bare no
weapons save short spears and knives; they were wet and dripping
with the water, for they had just swum Mirkwood-water. They were of
the Wolfing House, and had been shepherding a few sheep on the west
side of the water, when they saw the host faring to battle, and
might not refrain them, but swam their horses across the swift
deeps to join their kindred to live and die with them. The tale
tells that they three fought in the battles that followed after,
and were not slain there, though they entered them unarmed, but
lived long years afterwards: of them need no more be said.

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