THE KINDREDS EAT THEIR MEAT IN SILVER-DALE.
NOW Dallach, who had gone away for a while, came back again into the
Hall; and at his back were a half score of men who bore ladders with
them: they were stout men, clad in scanty and ragged raiment, but girt
with swords and bearing axes, those of them who were not handling the
ladders. Men looked on them curiously, because they saw them to be of
the roughest of the thralls. They were sullen and fierce-eyed to behold,
and their hands and bare arms were flecked with blood; and it was easy to
see that they had been chasing the fleers, and making them pay for their
many torments of past days.
But when Face-of-god beheld this he cried out: ‘Ho, Dallach! is it so
that thou hast bethought thee to bring in hither men to fall to the
cleansing of the Hall, and to do away the defiling of the Dusky Men?’
‘Even so, War-leader,’ said Dallach; ‘also ye shall know that all battle
is over in Silver-stead; for the thralls fell in numbers not to be
endured on the Dusky Men who had turned their backs to us, and hindered
them from fleeing north. But though they have slain many, they have not
slain all, and the remnant have fled by divers ways westaway, that they
may gain the wood and the ways to Rose-dale; and the stoutest of the
thralls are at their heels, and ever as they go fresh men from the fields
join in the chase with great joy. I have gathered together of the best
of them two hundreds and a half well-armed; and if thou wilt give me
leave, I will get to me yet more, and follow hard on the fleers, and so
get me home to Rose-dale; for thither will these runaways to meet whatso
of their kind may be left there. Also I would fain be there to set some
order amongst the poor folk of mine own people, whom this day’s work hath
delivered from torment. And if thou wilt suffer a few men of the
Dalesmen to come along with me, then shall all things be better done
there.’
‘Luck go with thine hands!’ said Face-of-god. ‘Take whomso thou wilt of
the Burgdalers that have a mind to fare with thee to the number of five
score; and send word of thy thriving to Folk-might, the chieftain of the
Dale; as for us, meseemeth that we shall abide here no long while. How
sayest thou, Folk-might, shall Dallach go?’
Then Folk-might, who stood close beside him, looked up and reddened
somewhat, as a man caught heedless when he should be heedful; but he
looked kindly on Face-of-god, and said:
‘War-leader, so long as thou art in the Dale which ye kindreds have won
back for us, thou art the chieftain, and no other, and I bid thee do as
thou wilt in this matter, and in all things; and I hereby give command to
all my kindred to do according to thy will everywhere and always, as they
love me; and indeed I deem that thy will shall be theirs; since it is
only fools who know not their well-wishers. How say ye, kinsmen?’
Then those about cried out: ‘Hail to Face-of-god! Hail to the Dalesmen!
Hail to our friends!’
But Folk-might went up to Face-of-god, and threw his arms about him and
kissed him, and he said therewithal, so that most men heard him:
‘Herewith I kiss not only thee, thou goodly and glorious warrior! but
this kiss and embrace is for all the men of the kindreds of the Dale and
the Shepherds; since I deem that never have men more valiant dwelt upon
the earth.’
Therewith all men shouted for joy of him, and were exceeding glad; but
Folk-might spake apart to Face-of-god and said:
‘Brother, I suppose that thou wilt deem it good to abide in this Hall or
anigh it; for hereabouts now is the heart of the Host. But as for me, I
would have leave to depart for a little; since I have an errand, whereof
thou mayest wot.’
Then Face-of-god smiled on him, and said: ‘Go, and all good go with thee;
and tell my father that I would have tidings, since I may not be there.’
So he spake; yet in his heart was he glad that he might not go to behold
the Bride lying sick and sorry. But Folk-might departed without more
words; and in the door of the Hall he met Crow the Shaft-speeder, who
would have spoken to him, and given him the tidings; but Folk-might said
to him: ‘Do thine errand to the War-leader, who is within the Hall.’ And
so went on his way.
Then came Crow up the Hall, and stood before Face-of-god and said:
‘War-leader, we have done that which was to be done, and have cleared all
the houses about the Market-stead. Moreover, by the rede of Dallach we
have set certain men of the poor folk of the Dale, who are well looked to
by the others, to the burying of the slain felons; and they be digging
trenches in the fields on the north side of the Market-stead, and carry
the carcasses thither as they may. But the slain whom they find of the
kindreds do they array out yonder before this Hall. In all wise are
these men tame and biddable, save that they rage against the Dusky Men,
though they fear them yet. As for us, they deem us Gods come down from
heaven to help them. So much for what is good: now have I an ill word to
say; to wit, that in the houses whereas we have found many thralls alive,
yet also have we found many dead; for amongst these murder-carles were
some of an evil sort, who, when they saw that the battle would go against
them, rushed into the houses hewing down all before them—man, woman, and
child; so that many of the halls and chambers we saw running blood like
to shambles. To be short: of them whom they were going to hew to the
Gods, we have found thirteen living and three dead, of which latter is
one woman; and of the living, seven women; and all these, living and
dead, with the leaden shackles yet on them wherein they should be burned.
To all these and others whom we have found, we have done what of service
we could in the way of victual and clothes, so that they scarce believe
that they are on this lower earth. Moreover, I have with me two score of
them, who are men of some wits, and who know of the stores of victual and
other wares which the felons had, and these will fetch and carry for you
as much as ye will. Is all done rightly, War-leader?’
‘Right well,’ said Face-of-god, ‘and we give thee our thanks therefor.
And now it were well if these thy folk were to dight our dinner for us in
some green field the nighest that may be, and thither shall all the Host
be bidden by sound of horn. Meantime, let us void this Hall till it be
cleansed of the filth of the Dusky Ones; but hereafter shall we come
again to it, and light a fire on the Holy Hearth, and bid the Gods and
the Fathers come back and behold their children sitting glad in the
ancient Hall.’
Then men shouted and were exceeding joyous; but Face-of-god said once
more: ‘Bear ye a bench out into the Market-place over against the door of
this Hall: thereon will I sit with other chieftains of the kindreds, that
whoso will may have recourse to us.’
So therewith all the men of the kindreds made their ways out of the Hall
and into the Market-stead, which was by this time much cleared of the
slaughtered felons; and the bale for the burnt-offering was now but
smouldering, and a thin column of blue smoke was going up wavering amidst
the light airs of the afternoon. Men were somewhat silent now; for they
were stiff and weary with the morning’s battle; and a many had been hurt
withal; and on many there yet rested the after-grief of battle, and
sorrow for the loss of friends and well-wishers.
For in the battle had fallen one long hundred and two of the men of the
Host; and of these were two score and five of the kindreds of the Steer,
the Bull, and the Bridge, who had made such valiant onslaught by the
southern road. Of the Shepherds died one score save three; for though
they scattered the foe at once, yet they fell on with such headlong
valour, rather than wisely, that many were trapped in the throng of the
Dusky Men. Of the Woodlanders were slain one score and nine; for hard
had been the fight about them, and no man of them spared himself one
whit. Of the men of the Wolf, who were but a few, fell sixteen men, and
all save two of these in Face-of-god’s battle. Of the Burgdale men whom
Folk-might led, to wit, them of the Face, the Vine, and the Sickle, were
but seven men slain outright. In this tale are told all those who died
of their hurts after the day of battle. Therewithal many others were
sorely hurt who mended, and went about afterwards hale and hearty.
So as the folk abode in the Market-place, somewhat faint and weary, they
heard horns blow up merrily, and Crow the Shaft-speeder came forth and
stood on the mound of the altar, and bade men fare to dinner, and
therewith he led the way, bearing in his hand the banner of the Golden
Bushel, of which House he was; and they followed him into a fair and
great mead on the southwest of Silver-stead, besprinkled about with
ancient trees of sweet chestnut. There they found the boards spread for
them with the best of victual which the poor down-trodden folk knew how
to dight for them; and especially was there great plenty of good wine of
the sun-smitten bents.
So they fell to their meat, and the poor folk, both men and women, served
them gladly, though they were somewhat afeard of these fierce
sword-wielders, the Gods who had delivered them. The said thralls were
mostly not of those who had fallen so bitterly on their fleeing masters,
but were men and women of the households, not so roughly treated as the
others, that is to say, those who had been wont to toil under the lash in
the fields and the silver-mines, and were as wild as they durst be.
As for these waiting-thralls, the men of the kindreds were gentle and
blithe with them, and often as they served them would they stay their
hands (and especially if they were women), and would draw down their
heads to put a morsel in their mouths, or set the wine-cup to their lips;
and they would stroke them and caress them, and treat them in all wise as
their dear friends. Moreover, when any man was full, he would arise and
take hold of one of the thralls, and set him in his place, and serve him
with meat and drink, and talk with him kindly, so that the poor folk were
much bewildered with joy. And the first that arose from table were the
Sun-beam and Bow-may and Hall-face, with many of the swains and the women
of the Woodlanders; and they went from table to table serving the others.
The Sun-beam had done off her armour, and went about exceeding fair and
lovely in her kirtle; but Bow-may yet bore her hauberk, for she loved it,
and indeed it was so fine and well-wrought that it was no great burden.
Albeit she had gone down with the Sun-beam and other women to a fair
stream thereby, and there had they bathed and washed themselves; and
Bow-may’s hurts, which were not great, had been looked to and bound up
afresh, and she had come to table unhelmed, with a wreath of wind-flowers
round her head.
There then they feasted; and their hearts were strengthened by the meat
and drink; and if sorrow were blended with their joy, yet were they
high-hearted through both joy and sorrow, looking forward to the good
days to be in the Dales at the Roots of the Mountains, and the love and
fellowship of Folks and of Houses.
But as for Face-of-god, he went not to the meadow, but abode sitting on
the bench in the Market-place, where were none else now of the kindreds
save the appointed warders. They had brought him a morsel and a cup of
wine, and he had eaten and drunk; and now he sat there with Dale-warden
lying sheathed across his knees, and seeming to gaze on the thralls of
Silver-dale busied in carrying away the bodies of the slain felons, after
they had stripped them of their raiment and weapons. Yet indeed all this
was before his eyes as a picture which he noted not. Rather he sat
pondering many things; wondering at his being there in Silver-dale in the
hour of victory; longing for the peace of Burgdale and the bride-chamber
of the Sun-beam. Then went his thought out toward his old playmate lying
hurt in Silver-dale; and his heart was grieved because of her, yet not
for long, though his thought still dwelt on her; since he deemed that she
would live and presently be happy—and happy thenceforward for many years.
So pondered Face-of-god in the Market-place of Silver-dale.