IN the Hall of the Face Folk-might sat on the daïs at the right hand of
the Alderman, and the Sun-beam on his left hand. But Iron-face also had
beheld the Bride how her face changed, and he knew the cause, and was
grieved and angry and ashamed thereof: also he bethought him how this
stranger was sitting in the very place where the Bride used to sit, and
of all the love, as of a very daughter, that he had had for her; howbeit
he constrained himself to talk courteously and kindly both to Folk-might
and the Sun-beam, as behoved the Chief of the House and the Alderman of
the Dale. Moreover, he was not a little moved by the goodliness and
wisdom of the Sun-beam and the manliness of Folk-might, who was the most
chieftain-like of men.
But while they sat there Face-of-god went from man to man of the Guests,
and made much of each, but especially of Wood-father and his sons and
Bow-may, and they loved him, and praised him, and deemed him the best of
hall-mates. Nor might the Sun-beam altogether refrain her from looking
lovingly on him, and it could be seen of her that she deemed he was doing
well, and like a wise leader and chieftain.
So wore away awhile, and men were fulfilled of meat and drink; so then
the Alderman arose and spake, and said:
‘Is it not so, Guests, that ye would now gladly behold our market, and
the goodly wares which the chapmen have brought us from the Cities?’
Then most men cried out: ‘Yea, yea!’ and Iron-face said:
‘Then shall ye go, nor be holden by me from your pleasure. And ye
kinsmen who are the most guest-fain and the wisest, go ye with our
friends, and make all things easy and happy for them. But first of all,
Guests, I were well pleased if ye would take some small matters out of
our abundance; for it were well that ye see them ere ye stand before the
chapmen’s booths, lest ye chaffer with them for what ye have already.’
They all praised his bounty and thanked him for his goodwill: so he arose
to go to his treasury, and bade certain of his folk go along with him to
bear in the gifts. But ere he had taken three steps down the hall,
Face-of-god prevented him and said:
‘Kinsman, if thou hast anywhere a hauberk somewhat better than folk are
wont to bear, such as thine own hand fashioneth, and a sword of the like
stuff, I would have thee give them, the sword to my brother-in-arms
Wood-wise here, and the war-coat to my sister Bow-may, who shooteth so
well in the bow that none may shoot closer, and very few as close; and
her shaft it was that delivered me when my skull was amongst the axes of
the Dusky Men: else had I not been here.’
Thereat Bow-may reddened and looked down, like a scholar who hath been
over-praised for his learning and diligence; but the Alderman smiled on
her and said:
‘I thank thee, son, that thou hast let me know what these our two friends
may be fain of: and as for this damsel-at-arms, it is a little thing that
thou askest for her, and we might have found her something more worthy of
her goodliness; yet forsooth, since we are all bound for the place where
shafts and staves shall be good cheap, a greater treasure might be of
less avail to her.’
Thereat men laughed, and the Alderman went down the Hall with those
bearers of gifts, and was away for a space while they drank and made
merry: but presently back they came from the treasury bearing loads of
goodly things which were laid on one of the endlong boards. Then began
the gift-giving: and first he gave unto Folk-might six golden cups
marvellously fashioned, the work of four generations of wrights in the
Dale, and he himself had wrought the last two thereof. To Sun-beam he
gave a girdle of gold, fashioned with great mastery, whereon were images
of the Gods and the Fathers, and warriors, and beasts of the field and
fowls of the air; and as he girt it about her loins, he said in a soft
voice so that few heard:
‘Sun-beam, thou fair woman, time has been when thou wert to us as the
edge of the poisonous sword or the midnight torch of the murderer; but
now I know not how it will be, or if the grief which thou hast given me
will ever wear out or not. And now that I have beheld thee, I have
little to do to blame my son; for indeed when I look on thee I cannot
deem that there is any evil in thee. Yea, however it may be, take thou
this gift as the reward of thine exceeding beauty.’
She looked on him with kind eyes, and said meekly:
‘Indeed, if I have hurt thee unwittingly, I grieve to have hurt so good a
man. Hereafter belike we may talk more of this, but now I will but say,
that whereas at first I needed but to win thy son’s goodwill, so that our
Folk might come to life and thriving again, now it is come to this, that
he holdeth my heart in his hand and may do what he will with it;
therefore I pray thee withhold not thy love either from him or from me.’
He looked on her wondering, and said: ‘Thou art such an one as might make
the old man young, and the boy grow into manhood suddenly; and thy voice
is as sweet as the voice of the song-birds singing in the dawn of early
summer soundeth to him who hath been sick unto death, but who hath
escaped it and is mending. And yet I fear thee.’
Therewith he kissed her hand and turned unto the others, and he gave unto
Bow-may a hauberk of ring-mail of his own fashioning, a sure defence and
a wonderful work, and the collar thereof was done with gold and gems.
But he said to her: ‘Fair damsel-at-arms, faithful is thy face, and the
fashion of thee is goodly: now art thou become one of the best of our
friends, and this is little enough to give thee; yet would we fain ward
thy body against the foeman; so grieve us not by gainsaying us.’
And Bow-may was exceeding glad, and scarce knew how to cease handling
that marvel of ring-mail.
Then to Wood-wise Iron-face gave a most goodly sword, the blade all
marked with dark lines like the stream of an eddying river, the hilts of
steel and gold marvellously wrought; and all the work of a smith who had
dwelt in the house of his father’s father, and was a great warrior.
Unto Wood-father he gave a very goodly helm parcel-gilded; and to his
sons and the other folk fair gifts of weapons and jewels and girdles and
cups and other good things; so that their hearts were full of joy, and
they all praised his open hand.
Then some of the best and merriest of the kinsmen of the Face, and
Face-of-god with them, brought the Guests out into the street and among
the booths. There Face-of-god beheld the Bride again; and she was
standing by the booth of a chapman and dealing with him for a piece of
goodly silken cloth to be a gown for one of her guests, and she was
talking and smiling as she chaffered with him, as her wont was; for she
was ever very friendly of demeanour with all men. But he noted that she
was yet exceeding pale, and he was right sorry thereof, for he loved her
friendly; yet now had he no shame for all that had befallen, when he
bethought him of the Sun-beam and the love she had for him. And also he
had a deeming that the Bride would better of her grief.