CHAPTER XXI: OF THE FIGHT OF THE CHAMPIONS IN THE HALL OF THE RAVAGERS

Now it is to be told that the chieftains came into the hall that night

and sat down at the board on the dais, even as Hallblithe had seen them

do aforetime. And the chieftain of all, who was called the Erne of the

Sea-eagles, rose up according to custom and said: "Hearken, folk! this is

a night of the champions, whereon we may not eat till the pale blades

have clashed together, and one hath vanquished and another been overcome.

Now let them stand forth and give out the prize of victory which the

vanquished shall pay to the vanquisher. And let it be known, that,

whosoever may be the champion that winneth the battle, whether he be a

kinsman, or an alien, or a foeman declared; yea, though he have left the

head of my brother at the hall-door, he shall pass this night with us

safe from sword, safe from axe, safe from hand: he shall eat as we eat,

drink as we drink, sleep as we sleep, and depart safe from any hand or

weapon, and shall sail the sea at his pleasure in his own keel or in

ours, as to him and us may be meet. Blow up horns for the champions!"

So the horns blew a cheerful strain, and when they were done, there came

into the hall a tall man clad in black, and with black armour and weapons

saving the white blade of his sword. He had a vizard over his face, but

his hair came down from under his helm like the tail of a red horse.

So he stood amidst the floor and cried out: "I am the champion of the

Ravagers. But I swear by the Treasure of the Sea that I will cross no

blade to-night save with an alien, a foeman of the kindred. Hearest

thou, O chieftain, O Erne of the Sea-eagles?"

"Hear it I do," said the chieftain, "and I deem that thy meaning is that

we should go supperless to bed; and this cometh of thy perversity: for we

know thee despite thy vizard. Belike thou deemest that thou shalt not be

met this even, and that there is no free alien in the island to draw

sword against thee. But beware! For when we came aland this morning we

found a skiff of the aliens tied to a great spear stuck in the bank of

the haven; so that there will be one foeman at least abroad in the

island. But we said if we should come on the man, we would set his head

on the gable of the hall with the mouth open toward the North for a token

of reproach to the dwellers in the land over sea. But now give out the

prize of victory, and I swear by the Treasure of the Sea that we will

abide by thy word."

Said the champion: "These are the terms and conditions of the battle;

that whichso of us is vanquished, he shall either die, or serve the

vanquisher for twelve moons, to fare with him at his will, to go his

errands, and do according to his commandment in all wise. Hearest thou,

chieftain?"

"Yea," said he, "and by the Undying King, both thou and we shall abide by

this bargain. So look to it that thou smite great strokes, lest our hall

lack a gable-knop. Horns, blow up for the alien champion!"

So again the horns were winded; and ere their voice had died, in from the

buttery screens came a glittering image of war, and there stood the alien

champion over against the warrior of the sea; and he too had a vizard

over his face.

Now when the folk saw him, and how slim and light and small he looked

beside their champion, and they beheld the Raven painted on his white

shield, they hooted and laughed for scorn of him and his littleness. But

he tossed his sword up lightly and caught it by the hilts as it fell, and

drew nigher to the champion of the sea and stood facing him within reach

of his sword. Then the chieftain on the high-seat put his two hands to

his mouth and roared out: "Fall on, ye champions, fall on!"

But the folk in the hall were so eager that they stood on the benches and

the boards, and craned over each other's shoulders, so that they might

lose no whit of the hand-play. Now flashed the blades in the candle-lit

hall, and the red-haired champion hove up his sword and smote two great

strokes to right and to left; but the alien gave way before him, and the

folk cried out at him in scorn and in joy of their champion, who fell to

raining down great strokes like the hail amidst the lightning. But so

deft was the alien, that he stood amidst it unhurt, and laid many strokes

on his foeman, and did all so lightly and easily, that it seemed as if he

were dancing rather than fighting; and the folk held their peace and

began to doubt if their huge champion would prevail. Now the red-haired

fetched a mighty stroke at the alien, who leapt aside lightly and gat his

sword in his left hand and dealt a great stroke on the other's head, and

the red-haired staggered, for he had over-reached himself; and again the

alien smote him a left-handed stroke so that he fell full length on the

floor with a mighty clatter, and the sword flew out of his hand: and the

folk were dumb-founded.

Then the alien threw himself on the sea-champion, and knelt upon him, and

shortened his sword as if to slay him with a thrust. But thereon the man

overthrown cried out: "Hold thine hand, for I am vanquished! Now give me

peace according to the bargain struck between us, that I shall serve thee

year-long, and follow thee wheresoever thou goest."

Therewith the alien champion arose and stood off from him, and the man of

the sea gat to his feet, and did off his helm, so that all men could see

that he was the Puny Fox.

Then the victorious champion unhelmed himself, and lo, it was Hallblithe!

And a shout arose in the hall, part of wonder, part of wrath.

Then cried out the Puny Fox: "I call on all men here to bear witness that

by reason of this battle, Hallblithe of the Ravens is free to come and go

as he will in the Isle of Ransom, and to take help of any man that will

help him, and to depart from the isle when he will and how he will,

taking me with him if so he will."

Said the chieftain: "Yea, this is right and due, and so shall it be. But

now, since no freeman, who is not a foe of the passing hour, may abide in

our hall without eating of our meat, come up here, Hallblithe, and sit by

me, and eat and drink of the best we have, since the Norns would not give

us thine head for a gable-knop. But what wilt thou do with thy thrall

the Puny Fox; and whereto in the hall wilt thou have him shown? Or wilt

thou that he sit fasting in the darkness to-night, laid in gyves and

fetters? Or shall he have the cheer of whipping and stripes, as

befitteth a thrall to whom the master oweth a grudge? What is thy will

with him?"

Said Hallblithe: "My will is that thou give him a seat next to me,

whether that be high or low, or the bench of thy prison-house. That he

eat of my dish, and drink of my cup, whatsoever the meat and drink may

be. For to-morrow I mean that we twain shall go under the earth-collar

together, and that our blood shall run together and that we shall be

brothers in arms henceforward." Then Hallblithe did on his helm again

and drew his sword, and looked aside to the Puny Fox to bid him do the

like, and he did so, and Hallblithe said: "Chieftain, thou hast bidden me

to table, and I thank thee; but I will not set my teeth in meat, out of

our own house and land, which hath not been truly given to me by one who

wotteth of me, unless I have conquered it as a prey of battle; neither

will I cast a lie into the loving-cup which shall pass from thy lips to

mine: therefore I will tell thee, that though I laid a stroke or two on

the Puny Fox, and those no light ones, yet was this battle nought true

and real, but a mere beguiling, even as that which I saw foughten in this

hall aforetime, when meseemeth the slain men rose up in time to drink the

good-night cup. Therefore, O men of the Ravagers, and thou, O Puny Fox,

there is nought to bind your hands and refrain your hearts, and ye may

slay me if ye will without murder or dishonour, and may make the head of

Hallblithe a knop for your feast-hall. Yet shall one or two fall to

earth before I fall."

Therewith he shook his sword aloft, and a great roar arose, and weapons

came down from the wall, and the candles shone on naked steel. But the

Puny Fox came and stood by Hallblithe, and spake in his ear amidst the

uproar: "Well now, brother-in-arms, I have been trying to learn thee the

lore of lies, and surely thou art the worst scholar who was ever smitten

by master. And the outcome of it is that I, who have lied so long and

well, must now pay for all, and die for a barren truth."

Said Hallblithe: "Let all be as it will! I love thee, lies and all; but

as for me I cannot handle them. Lo you! great and grim shall be the

slaying, and we shall not fall unavenged."

Said the Puny Fox: "Hearken! for still they hang back. Belike it is I

that have drawn this death on thee and me. My last lie was a fool's lie

and we die for it: for what wouldst thou have done hadst thou wotted that

thy beloved, the Hostage of the Rose--" He broke off perforce; for

Hallblithe was looking to right and left and handling his sword, and

heard not that last word of his; and from both sides of the hall the

throng was drawing round about those twain, weapon in hand. Then

Hallblithe set his eyes on a big man in front who was heaving up a heavy

short-sword and thought that he would at least slay this one. But or

ever he might smite, the great horn blared out over the tumult, and men

forbore a while and fell somewhat silent.

Then came down to them the voice of the chieftain, a loud voice, but

clear and with mirth mingled with anger in it, and he said: "What do

these fools of the Ravagers cumbering the floor of the feast-hall, and

shaking weapons when there is no foeman anigh? Are they dreaming-drunk

before the wine is poured? Why do they not sit down in their places, and

abide the bringing in of the meat? And ye women, where are ye, why do ye

delay our meat, when ye may well wot that our hearts are drooping for

hunger; and all hath been duly done, the battle of the champions fought

and won, and the prize of war given forth and taken? How long, O folk,

shall your chieftains sit fasting?"

Then there arose great laughter in the hall, and men withdrew them from

those twain and went and sat them down in their places.

Then the chieftain said: "Come up hither, I say, O Hallblithe, and bring

thy war-thrall with thee if thou wilt. But delay not, unless it be so

that thou art neither hungry nor thirsty; and good sooth thou shouldst be

both; for men say that the ravens are hard to satisfy. Come then and

make good cheer with us!"

So Hallblithe thrust his sword into the sheath, and the Puny Fox did the

like, and they went both together up the hall to the high-seat. And

Hallblithe sat down on the chieftain's right hand, and the Puny Fox next

to him; and the chieftain, the Erne, said: "O Hallblithe, dost thou need

thine armour at table; or dost thou find it handy to take thy meat clad

in thy byrny and girt with a sword?"

Then laughed Hallblithe and said: "Nay, meseemeth to-night I shall need

war-gear no more." And he stood up and did off all his armour and gave

it, sword and all, into the hands of a woman, who bore it off, he knew

not whither. And the Erne looked on him and said: "Well is that! and now

I see that thou art a fair young man, and it is no marvel though maidens

desire thee."

As he spake came in the damsels with the victual and the cheer was

exceeding good, and Hallblithe grew light-hearted.

But when the healths had been drunk as aforetime, and men had drunk a cup

or two thereafter, there rose a warrior from one of the endlong benches,

a big young man, black-haired and black-bearded, ruddy of visage, and he

said in a voice that was rough and fat: "O Erne, and ye other chieftains,

we have been talking here at our table concerning this guest of thine who

hath beguiled us, and we are not wholly at one with thee as to thy

dealings with him. True it is, now that the man hath our meat in his

belly, that he must depart from amongst us with a whole skin, unless of

his own will he stand up to fight some man of us here. Yet some of us

think that he is not so much our friend that we should help him to a keel

whereon to fare home to those that hate us: and we say that it would not

be unlawful to let the man abide in the isle, and proclaim him a wolf's-

head within a half-moon of to-day. Or what sayest thou?"

Said the Erne: "Wait for my word a while, and hearken to another! Is the

Grey-goose of the Ravagers in the hall? Let him give out his word on

this matter."

Then arose a white-headed carle from a table nigh to the dais, whose

black raiment was well adorned with gold. Despite his years his face was

fair and little wrinkled; a man with a straight nose and a well-fashioned

mouth, and with eyes still bright and grey. He spake: "O folk, I find

that the Erne hath done well in cherishing this guest. For first, if he

hath beguiled us, he did it not save by the furtherance and sleight of

our own kinsman; therefore if any one is to die for beguiling us, let it

be the Puny Fox. Secondly, we may well wot that heavy need hath driven

the man to this beguilement; and I say that it was no unmanly deed for

him to enter our hall and beguile us with his sleight; and that he hath

played out the play right well and cunningly with the wisdom of a

warrior. Thirdly, the manliness of him is well proven, in that having

overcome us in sleight, he hath spoken out the sooth concerning our

beguilement and hath made himself our foeman and captive, when he might

have sat down by us as our guest, freely and in all honour. And this he

did, not as contemning the Puny Fox and his lies and crafty wiles (for he

hath told us that he loveth him); but so that he might show himself a man

in that which trieth manhood. Moreover, ye shall not forget that he is

the rebel of the Undying King, who is our lord and master; therefore in

cherishing him we show ourselves great-hearted, in that we fear not the

wrath of our master. Therefore I naysay the word of the War-brand that

we should make this man a wolf's-head; for in so doing we shall show

ourselves lesser-hearted than he is, and of no account beside of him; and

his head on our hall-gable should be to us a nithing-stake, and a tree of

reproach. So I bid thee, O Erne, to make much of this man; and thou

shalt do well to give him worthy gifts, such as warriors may take, so

that he may show them at home in the House of the Raven, that it may be

the beginning of peace betwixt us and his noble kindred. This is my say,

and later on I shall wax no wiser."

Therewith he sat down, and there arose a murmur and stir in the hall; but

the more part said that the Grey-goose had spoken well, and that it was

good to be at peace with such manly fellows as the new guest was.

But the Erne said: "One word will I lay hereto, to wit, that he who

desireth mine enmity let him do scathe to Hallblithe of the Ravens and

hinder him."

Then he bade fill round the cups, and called a health to Hallblithe, and

all men drank to him, and there was much joyance and merriment.

But when the night was well worn, the Erne turned to Hallblithe and said:

"That was a good word of the Grey-goose which he spake concerning the

giving of gifts: Raven-son, wilt thou take a gift of me and be my

friend?"

"Thy friend will I be," said Hallblithe, "but no gift will I take of thee

or any other till I have the gift of gifts, and that is my troth-plight

maiden. I will not be glad till I can be glad with her."

Then laughed the Erne, and the Puny Fox grinned all across his wide face,

and Hallblithe looked from one to the other of them and wondered at their

mirth, and when they saw his wondering eyes, they did but laugh the more;

and the Erne said: "Nevertheless, thou shalt see the gift which I would

give thee; and then mayst thou take it or leave it as thou wilt. Ho ye!

bring in the throne of the Eastland with them that minister to it!"

Certain men left the hall as he spake, and came back bearing with them a

throne fashioned most goodly of ivory, parcel-gilt and begemmed, and

adorned with marvellous craftsmanship: and they set it down amidst of the

hall-floor and went aback to their places, while the Erne sat and smiled

kindly on the folk and on Hallblithe. Then arose the sound of fiddles

and the lesser harp, and the doors of the screen were opened, and there

flowed into the hall a company of fair damsels not less than a score,

each one with a rose on her bosom, and they came and stood in order

behind the throne of the Eastlands, and they strewed roses on the ground

before them: and when they were duly ranged they fell to singing:

Now waneth spring,

While all birds sing,

And the south wind blows

The earliest rose

To and fro

By the doors we know,

And the scented gale

Fills every dale.

Slow now are brooks running because of the weed,

And the thrush hath no cunning to hide her at need,

So swift as she flieth from hedge-row to tree

As one that toil trieth, and deedful must be.

And O! that at last,

All sorrows past,

This night I lay

'Neath the oak-beams grey!

O, to wake from sleep,

To see dawn creep

Through the fruitful grove

Of the house that I love!

O! my feet to be treading the threshold once more,

O'er which once went the leading of swords to the war!

O! my feet in the garden's edge under the sun,

Where the seeding grass hardens for haysel begun!

Lo, lo! the wind blows

To the heart of the Rose,

And the ship lies tied

To the haven side!

But O for the keel

The sails to feel!

And the alien ness

Growing less and less;

As down the wind driveth and thrusts through the sea

The sail-burg that striveth to turn and go free,

But the lads at the tiller they hold her in hand,

And the wind our well-willer drives fierce to the land.

We shall wend it yet,

The highway wet;

For what is this

That our bosoms kiss?

What lieth sweet

Before our feet?

What token hath come

To lead us home?

'Tis the Rose of the garden walled round from the croft

Where the grey roof its warden steep riseth aloft,

'Tis the Rose 'neath the oaken-beamed hall, where they bide,

The pledges unbroken, the hand of the bride.

Hallblithe heard the song, and half thought it promised him somewhat; but

then he had been so misled and mocked at, that he scarce knew how to

rejoice at it.

Now the Erne spake: "Wilt thou not take the chair and these dainty song-

birds that stand about it? Much wealth might come into thine hall if

thou wert to carry them over sea to rich men who have no kindred, nor

affinity wherein to wed, but who love women as well as other men."

Said Hallblithe: "I have wealth enow were I once home again. As to these

maidens, I know by the fashion of them that they are no women of the

Rose, as by their song they should be. Yet will I take any of these

maidens that have will to go with me and be made sisters of my sisters,

and wed with the warriors of the Rose; or if they are of a kindred, and

long to sit each in the house of her folk, then will we send them home

over the sea with warriors to guard them from all trouble. For this gift

I thank thee. As to thy throne, I bid thee keep it till a keel cometh

thy way from our land, bringing fair gifts for thee and thine. For we

are not so unwealthy."

Those that sat nearby heard his words and praised them; but the Erne

said: "All this is free to thee, and thou mayst do what thou wilt with

the gifts given to thee. Yet shalt thou have the throne; and I have

thought of a way to make thee take it. Or what sayst thou, Puny Fox?"

Said the Puny Fox: "Yea if thou wilt, thou mayst, but I thought it not of

thee that thou wouldst. Now is all well."

Again Hallblithe looked from one to the other and wondered what they

meant. But the Erne cried out: "Bring in now the sitter, who shall fill

the empty throne!"

Then again the screen-doors opened, and there came in two weaponed men,

leading between them a woman clad in gold and garlanded with roses. So

fair was the fashion of her face and all her body, that her coming seemed

to make a change in the hall, as though the sun had shone into it

suddenly. She trod the hall-floor with firm feet, and sat down on the

ivory chair. But even before she was seated therein Hallblithe knew that

the Hostage was under that roof and coming toward him. And the heart

rose in his breast and fluttered therein, so sore he yearned toward the

Daughter of the Rose, and his very speech-friend. Then he heard the Erne

saying, "How now, Raven-son, wilt thou have the throne and the sitter

therein, or wilt thou gainsay me once more?"

Thereafter he himself spake, and the sound of his voice was strange to

him and as if he knew it not: "Chieftain, I will not gainsay thee, but

will take thy gift, and thy friendship therewith, whatsoever hath

betided. Yet would I say a word or two unto the woman that sitteth

yonder. For I have been straying amongst wiles and images, and mayhappen

I shall yet find this to be but a dream of the night, or a beguilement of

the day." Therewith he arose from the table, and walked slowly down the

hall; but it was a near thing that he did not fall a-weeping before all

those aliens, so full his heart was.

He came and stood before the Hostage, and their eyes were upon each

other, and for a little while they had no words. Then Hallblithe began,

wondering at his voice as he spake: "Art thou a woman and my

speech-friend? For many images have mocked me, and I have been

encompassed with lies, and led astray by behests that have not been

fulfilled. And the world hath become strange to me, and empty of

friends."

Then she said: "Art thou verily Hallblithe? For I also have been

encompassed by lies, and beset by images of things unhelpful."

"Yea," said he, "I am Hallblithe of the Ravens, wearied with desire for

my troth-plight maiden."

Then came the rosy colour into the fairness of her face, as the rising

sun lighteth the garden of flowers in the June morning; and she said: "If

thou art Hallblithe, tell me what befell to the finger-gold-ring that my

mother gave me when we were both but little."

Then his face grew happy, and he smiled, and he said: "I put it for thee

one autumntide in the snake's hole in the bank above the river, amidst

the roots of the old thorn-tree, that the snake might brood it, and make

the gold grow greater; but when winter was over and we came to look for

it, lo! there was neither ring nor snake, nor thorn-tree: for the flood

had washed it all away."

Thereat she smiled most sweetly, and whereas she had been looking on him

hitherto with strained and anxious eyes, she now beheld him simply and

friendly; and she said: "O Hallblithe, I am a woman indeed, and thy

speech-friend. This is the flesh that desireth thee, and the life that

is thine, and the heart which thou rejoicest. But now tell me, who are

these huge images around us, amongst whom I have sat thus, once in every

moon this year past, and afterwards I was taken back to the women's

bower? Are they men or mountain-giants? Will they slay us, or shut us

up from the light and air? Or hast thou made peace with them? Wilt thou

then dwell with me here, or shall we go back again to Cleveland by the

Sea? And when, oh when, shall we depart?"

He smiled and said: "Quick come thy questions, beloved. These are the

folks of the Ravagers and the Sea-eagles: they be men, though fierce and

wild they be. Our foes they have been, and have sundered us; but now are

they our friends, and have brought us together. And to-morrow, O friend,

shall we depart across the waters to Cleveland by the Sea."

She leaned forward, and was about to speak softly to him, but suddenly

started back, and said: "There is a big, red-haired man, as big as any

here, behind thy shoulder. Is he also a friend? What would he with us?"

So Hallblithe turned about, and beheld the Puny Fox beside him, who took

up the word and spoke, smiling as a man in great glee: "O maiden of the

Rose, I am Hallblithe's thrall, and his scholar, to unlearn the craft of

lying, whereby I have done amiss towards both him and thee. Whereof I

will tell thee all the tale soon. But now I will say that it is true

that we depart to-morrow for Cleveland by the Sea, thou and he, and I in

company. Now I would ask thee, Hallblithe, if thou wouldst have me

bestow this gift of thine in safe-keeping to-night, since there is an end

of her sitting in the hall like a graven image: and to-morrow the way

will be long and wearisome, What sayest thou?"

Said the Hostage: "Shall I trust this man and go with him?"

"Yea, thou shalt trust him," said Hallblithe, "for he is trusty. And

even were he not, it is meet for us of the Raven and the Rose to do as

our worth biddeth us, and not to fear this folk. And it behoveth us to

do after their customs since we are in their house."

"That is sooth," she said; "big man, lead me out of the hall to my place.

Farewell, Hallblithe, for a little while, and then shall there be no more

sundering for us."

Therewith she departed with the Puny Fox, and Hallblithe went back to the

high-seat and sat down by the Erne, who laughed on him and said: "Thou

hast taken my gift, and that is well: yet shall I tell thee that I would

not have given it to thee if I could have kept it for myself in such

plight as thou wilt have it. But all I could do, and the Puny Fox to

help withal, availed me nought. So good luck go with thine hands. Now

will we to bed, and to-morrow I will lead thee out on thy way; for to say

sooth, there be some here who are not well pleased with either thee or

me; and thou knowest that words are wasted on wilful men, but that deeds

may avail somewhat."

Therewith he cried out for the cup of good-night, and when it was

drunken, Hallblithe was shown to a fair shut-bed; even that wherein he

had lain aforetime; and there he went to sleep in joy, and in good liking

with all men.

The Story of the Glittering Plain Which Has Been Also Called the Land of Living Men or the Acre of the Undying · 第 21 / 22 章