SO now went all men to bed; and Face-to-god’s shut-bed was over against
the outer door and toward the lower end of the hall, and on the panel
about it hung the weapons and shields of men. Fair was that chamber and
roomy, and the man was weary despite his eagerness, so that he went to
sleep as soon as his head touched the pillow; but within a while (he
deemed about two hours after midnight) he was awaked by the clattering of
the weapons against the panel, and the sound of men’s hands taking them
down; and when he was fully awake, he heard withal men going up and down
the house as if on errands: but he called to mind what the Friend had
said to him, and he did not so much as turn himself toward the hall; for
he said: ‘Belike these men are outlaws and Wolves of the Holy Places, yet
by seeming they are good fellows and nought churlish, nor have I to do
with taking up the feud against them. I will abide the morning. Yet
meseemeth that she drew me hither: for what cause?’
Therewith he fell asleep again, and dreamed no more. But when he awoke
the sun was shining broad upon the hall-floor, and he sat up and
listened, but could hear no sound save the moaning of the wind in the
pine-boughs and the chatter of the starlings about the gables of the
house; and the place seemed so exceeding lonely to him that he was in a
manner feared by that loneliness.
Then he arose and clad himself, and went forth into the hall and gazed
about him, and at first he deemed indeed that there was no one therein.
But at last he looked and beheld the upper gable and there underneath a
most goodly hanging was the glorious shape of a woman sitting on a bench
covered over with a cloth of gold and silver; and he looked and looked to
see if the woman might stir, and if she were alive, and she turned her
head toward him, and lo it was the Friend; and his heart rose to his
mouth for wonder and fear and desire. For now he doubted whether the
other folk were aught save shows and shadows, and she the Goddess who had
fashioned them out of nothing for his bewilderment, presently to return
to nothing.
Yet whatever he might fear or doubt, he went up the hall towards her till
he was quite nigh to her, and there he stood silent, wondering at her
beauty and desiring her kindness.
Grey-eyed she was like her brother; but her hair the colour of red wheat:
her lips full and red, her chin round, her nose fine and straight. Her
hands and all her body fashioned exceeding sweetly and delicately; yet
not as if she were an image of which the like might be found if the
craftsman were but deft enough to make a perfect thing, but in such a way
that there was none like to her for those that had eyes to behold her as
she was; and none could ever be made like to her, even by such a
master-craftsman as could fashion a body without a blemish.
She was clad in a white smock, whose hems were broidered with gold wire
and precious gems of the Mountains, and over that a gown woven of gold
and silver: scarce hath the world such another. On her head was a fillet
of gold and gems, and there were wondrous gold rings on her arms: her
feet lay bare on the dark grey wolf-skin that was stretched before her.
She smiled kindly upon his solemn and troubled face, and her voice
sounded strangely familiar to him coming from all that loveliness, as she
said: ‘Hail, Face-of-god! here am I left alone, although I deemed last
night that I should be gone with the others. Therefore am I fain to show
myself to thee in fairer array than yesternight; for though we dwell in
the wild-wood, from the solace of folk, yet are we not of thralls’ blood.
But come now, I bid thee break thy fast and talk with me a little while;
and then shalt thou depart in peace.’
Spake Face-of-god, and his voice trembled as he spake: ‘What art thou?
Last night I deemed at whiles once and again that thou wert of the Gods;
and now that I behold thee thus, and it is broad daylight, and of those
others is no more to be seen than if they had never lived, I cannot but
deem that it is even so, and that thou comest from the City that shall
never perish. Now if thou be a goddess, I have nought to pray thee, save
to slay me speedily if thou hast a mind for my death. But if thou art a
woman—’
She broke in: ‘Gold-mane, stay thy prayer and hold thy peace for this
time, lest thou repent when repentance availeth not. And this I say
because I am none of the Gods nor akin to them, save far off through the
generations, as art thou also, and all men of goodly kindred. Now I bid
thee eat thy meat, since ’tis ill talking betwixt a full man and a
fasting; and I have dight it myself with mine own hands; for Bow-may and
the Wood-mother went away with the rest three hours before dawn. Come
sit and eat as thou hast a hardy heart; as forsooth thou shouldest do if
I were a very goddess. Take heed, friend, lest I take thee for some
damsel of the lower Dale arrayed in Earl’s garments.’
She laughed therewith, and leaned toward him and put forth her hand to
him, and he took it and caressed it; and the exceeding beauty of her body
and of the raiment which was as it were a part of her and her loveliness,
made her laughter and her friendly words strange to him, as if one did
not belong to the other; as in a dream it might be. Nevertheless he did
as she bade him, and sat at the board and ate, while she leaned forward
on the arm of her chair and spake to him in friendly wise. And he
wondered as she spake that she knew so much of him and his: and he kept
saying to himself: ‘She drew me hither; wherefore did she so?’
But she said: ‘Gold-mane, how fareth thy father the Alderman? is he as
good a wright as ever?’
He told her: Yea, that ever was his hammer on the iron, the copper, and
the gold, and that no wright in the Dale was as deft as he.
Said she: ‘Would he not have had thee seek to the Cities, to see the ways
of the outer world?’
‘Yea,’ said he.
She said: ‘Thou wert wise to naysay that offer; thou shalt have enough to
do in the Dale and round about it in twelve months’ time.’
‘Art thou foresighted?’ said he.
‘Folk have called me so,’ she said, ‘but I wot not. But thy brother
Hall-face, how fareth he?’
‘Well;’ said he, ‘to my deeming he is the Sword of our House, and the
Warrior of the Dale, if the days were ready for him.’
‘And Stone-face, that stark ancient,’ she said, ‘doth he still love the
Folk of the Dale, and hate all other folks?’
‘Nay,’ he said, ‘I know not that, but I know that he loveth as, and above
all me and my father.’
Again she spake: ‘How fareth the Bride, the fair maid to whom thou art
affianced?’
As she spake, it was to him as if his heart was stricken cold; but he put
a force upon himself, and neither reddened nor whitened, nor changed
countenance in any way; so he answered:
‘She was well the eve of yesterday.’ Then he remembered what she was,
and her beauty and valour, and he constrained himself to say: ‘Each day
she groweth fairer; there is no man’s son and no daughter of woman that
does not love her; yea, the very beasts of field and fold love her.’
The Friend looked at him steadily and spake no word, but a red flush
mounted to her cheeks and brow and changed her face; and he marvelled
thereat; for still he misdoubted that she was a Goddess. But it passed
away in a moment, and she smiled and said:
‘Guest, thou seemest to wonder that I know concerning thee and the Dale
and thy kindred. But now shalt thou wot that I have been in the Dale
once and again, and my brother oftener still; and that I have seen thee
before yesterday.’
‘That is marvellous,’ quoth he, ‘for sure am I that I have not seen
thee.’
‘Yet thou hast seen me,’ she said; ‘yet not altogether as I am now;’ and
therewith she smiled on him friendly.
‘How is this?’ said he; ‘art thou a skin-changer?’
‘Yea, in a fashion,’ she said. ‘Hearken! dost thou perchance remember a
day of last summer when there was a market holden in Burgstead; and there
stood in the way over against the House of the Face a tall old carle who
was trucking deer-skins for diverse gear; and with him was a queen, tall
and dark-skinned, somewhat well-liking, her hair bound up in a white coif
so that none of it could be seen; by the token that she had a large stone
of mountain blue set in silver stuck in the said coif?’
As she spoke she set her hand to her bosom and drew something from it,
and held forth her hand to Gold-mane, and lo amidst the palm the great
blue stone set in silver.
‘Wondrous as a dream is this,’ said Face-of-god, ‘for these twain I
remember well, and what followed.’
She said: ‘I will tell thee that. There came a man of the Shepherd-Folk,
drunk or foolish, or both, who began to chaffer with the big carle; but
ever on the queen were his eyes set, and presently he put forth his hand
to her to clip her, whereon the big carle hove up his fist and smote him,
so that he fell to earth noseling. Then ran the folk together to hale
off the stranger and help the shepherd, and it was like that the stranger
should be mishandled. Then there thrust through the press a young man
with yellow hair and grey eyes, who cried out, “Fellows, let be! The
stranger had the right of it; this is no matter to make a quarrel or a
court case of. Let the market go on! This man and maid are true folk.”
So when the folk heard the young man and his bidding, they forebore and
let the carle and the queen be, and the shepherd went his ways little
hurt. Now then, who was this young man?’
Quoth Gold-mane: ‘It was even I, and meseemeth it was no great deed to
do.’
‘Yea,’ she said, ‘and the big carle was my brother, and the tall queen,
it was myself.’
‘How then,’ said he, ‘for she was as dark-skinned as a dwarf, and thou so
bright and fair?’
She said: ‘Well, if the woods are good for nothing else, yet are they
good for the growing of herbs, and I know the craft of simpling; and with
one of these herbs had I stained my skin and my brother’s also. And it
showed the darker beneath the white coif.’
‘Yea,’ said he, ‘but why must ye needs fare in feigned shapes? Ye would
have been welcome guests in the Dale howsoever ye had come.’
‘I may not tell thee hereof as now,’ said she.
Said Gold-mane: ‘Yet thou mayst belike tell me wherefore was that thy
brother desired to slay me yesterday, if he knew me, who I was.’
‘Gold-mane,’ she said, ‘thou art not slain, so little story need be made
of that: for the rest, belike he knew thee not at that moment. So it
falls with us, that we look to see foes rather than friends in the
wild-woods. Many uncouth things are therein. Moreover, I must tell thee
of my brother that whiles he is as the stalled bull late let loose, and
nothing is good to him save battle and onset; and then is he blind and
knows not friend from foe.’ Said Face-of-god: ‘Thou hast asked of me and
mine; wilt thou not tell me of thee and thine?’
‘Nay,’ she said, ‘not as now; thou must betake thee to the way. Whither
wert thou wending when thou happenedst upon us?’
He said: ‘I know not; I was seeking something, but I knew not
what—meseemeth that now I have found it.’
‘Art thou for the great mountains seeking gems?’ she said. ‘Yet go not
thither to-day: for who knoweth what thou shalt meet there that shall be
thy foe?’
He said: ‘Nay, nay; I have nought to do but to abide here as long as I
may, looking upon thee and hearkening to thy voice.’
Her eyes were upon his, but yet she did not seem to see him, and for a
while she answered not; and still he wondered that mere words should come
from so fair a thing; for whether she moved foot, or hand, or knee, or
turned this way or that, each time she stirred it was a caress to his
very heart.
He spake again: ‘May I not abide here a while? What scathe may be in
that?’
‘It is not so,’ she said; ‘thou must depart, and that straightway: lo,
there lieth thy spear which the Wood-mother hath brought in from the
waste. Take thy gear to thee and wend thy ways. Have patience! I will
lead thee to the place where we first met and there give thee farewell.’
Therewith she arose and he also perforce, and when they came to the
doorway she stepped across the threshold and then turned back and gave
him her hand and so led him forth, the sun flashing back from her golden
raiment. Together they went over the short grey grass of that hillside
till they came to the place where he had arisen from that wrestle with
her brother. There she stayed him and said:
‘This is the place; here must we part.’
But his heart failed him and he faltered in his speech as he said:
‘When shall I see thee again? Wilt thou slay me if I seek to thee hither
once more?’
‘Hearken,’ she said, ‘autumn is now a-dying into winter: let winter and
its snows go past: nor seek to me hither; for me thou should’st not find,
but thy death thou mightest well fall in with; and I would not that thou
shouldest die. When winter is gone, and spring is on the land, if thou
hast not forgotten us thou shalt meet us again. Yet shalt thou go
further than this Woodland Hall. In Shadowy Vale shalt thou seek to me
then, and there will I talk with thee.’
‘And where,’ said he, ‘is Shadowy Vale? for thereof have I never heard
tell.’
She said: ‘The token when it cometh to thee shall show thee thereof and
the way thither. Art thou a babbler, Gold-mane?’
He said: ‘I have won no prize for babbling hitherto.’
She said: ‘If thou listest to babble concerning what hath befallen thee
on the Mountain, so do, and repent it once only, that is, thy life long.’
‘Why should I say any word thereof?’ said he. ‘Dost thou not know the
sweetness of such a tale untold?’
He spake as one who is somewhat wrathful, and she answered humbly and
kindly:
‘Well is that. Bide thou the token that shall lead thee to Shadowy Vale.
Farewell now.’
She drew her hand from his, and turned and went her ways swiftly to the
house: he could not choose but gaze on her as she went glittering-bright
and fair in that grey place of the mountains, till the dark doorway
swallowed up her beauty. Then he turned away and took the path through
the pine-woods, muttering to himself as he went:
‘What thing have I done now that hitherto I had not done? What manner of
man am I to-day other than the man I was yesterday?’