Ralph Happens on Evil Days
Early on the morrow they departed, and now in the morning light and the
sun the minstrel seemed glad again, and talked abundantly, even though
at whiles Ralph answered him little.
As they rode, the land began to get less fertile and less, till at last
there was but tillage here and there in patches: of houses there were
but few, and the rest was but dark heathland and bog, with scraggy
woods scattered about the country-side.
Naught happened to tell of, save that once in the afternoon, as they
were riding up to the skirts of one of the woods aforesaid, weaponed
men came forth from it and drew up across the way; they were a dozen in
all, and four were horsed. Ralph set his hand to his sword, but the
minstrel cried out, "Nay, no weapons, no weapons! Pull out thy
let-pass again and show it in thine hand, and then let us on."
So saying he drew a white kerchief from his hand, and tied it to the
end of his riding staff, and so rode trembling by Ralph's side:
therewith they rode on together towards those men, whom as they drew
nearer they heard laughing and jeering at them, though in a tongue that
Ralph knew not.
They came so close at last that the waylayers could see the parchment
clearly, with the seal thereon, and then they made obeisance to it, as
though it were the relic of a saint, and drew off quietly into the wood
one by one. These were big men, and savage-looking, and their armour
was utterly uncouth.
The minstrel was loud in his mirth when they were well past these men;
but Ralph rode on silently, and was somewhat soberly.
"Fair sir," quoth the minstrel, "I would wager that I know thy
thought." "Yea," said Ralph, "what is it then?" Said the minstrel:
"Thou art thinking what thou shalt do when thou meetest suchlike folk
on thy way back; but fear not, for with that same seal thou shalt pass
through the land again." Said Ralph: "Yea, something like that,
forsooth, was my thought. But also I was pondering who should be my
guide when I leave Utterbol." The minstrel looked at him askance;
quoth he: "Thou mayst leave thinking of that awhile." Ralph looked
hard at him, but could make naught of the look of his face; so he said:
"Why dost thou say that?" Said Morfinn: "Because I know whither thou
art bound, and have been wondering this long while that thou hast asked
me not about the way to the WELL at the WORLD'S END: since I told thy
friend the merchant that I could tell thee somewhat concerning it. But
I suppose thou hast been thinking of something else?"
"Well," said Ralph, "tell me what thou hast to say of the Well." Said
Morfinn: "This will I tell thee first: that if thou hast any doubt
that such a place there is, thou mayst set that aside; for we of
Utterness and Utterbol are sure thereof; and of all nations and peoples
whereof we know, we deem that we are the nighest thereto. How sayest
thou, is that not already something?" "Yea, verily," said Ralph.
"Now," said Morfinn, "the next thing to be said is that we are on the
road thereto: but the third thing again is this, lord, that though few
who seek it find it, yet we know that some have failed not of it,
besides that lord of Goldburg, of whom I know that thou hast heard.
Furthermore, there dwelleth a sage in the woods not right far from
Utterbol, a hermit living by himself; and folk seek to him for divers
lore, to be holpen by him in one way or other, and of him men say that
he hath so much lore concerning the road to the Well (whether he hath
been there himself they know not certainly), that if he will, he can
put anyone on the road so surely that he will not fail to come there,
but he be slain on the way, as I said to thee in Goldburg. True it is
that the said sage is chary of his lore, and if he think any harm of
the seeker, he will show him naught; but, fair sir, thou art so valiant
and so goodly, and as meseemeth so good a knight per amours, that I
deem it a certain thing that he will tell thee the uttermost of his
knowledge."
Now again waxed Ralph eager concerning his quest; for true it is that
since he had had that story of the damsel from the minstrel, she had
stood in the way before the Well at the World's End. But now he said:
"And canst thou bring me to the said sage, good minstrel?" "Without
doubt," quoth Morfinn, "when we are once safe at Utterbol. From
Utterbol ye may wend any road."
"Yea," said Ralph, "and there are perils yet a few on the way, is it
not so?" "So it is," said the minstrel; "but to-morrow shall try all."
Said Ralph: "And is there some special peril ahead to-morrow? And if it
be so, what is it?" Said his fellow: "It would avail thee naught to
know it. What then, doth that daunt thee?" "No," said Ralph, "by then
it is nigh enough to hurt us, we shall be nigh enough to see it."
"Well said!" quoth the minstrel; "but now we must mend our pace, or
dark night shall overtake us amid these rough ways."
Wild as the land was, they came at even to a place where were a few
houses of woodmen or hunters; and they got off their horses and knocked
at the door of one of these, and a great black-haired carle opened to
them, who, when he saw the knight's armour, would have clapped the door
to again, had not Ralph by the minstrel's rede held out the parchment
to him, who when he saw it became humble indeed, and gave them such
guesting as he might, which was scant indeed of victual or drink, save
wild-fowl from the heath. But they had wine with them from the last
guest-house, whereof they bade the carle to drink; but he would not,
and in all wise seemed to be in dread of them.
When it was morning early they rode their ways, and the carle seemed
glad to be rid of them. After they had ridden a few miles the land
bettered somewhat; there were islands of deep green pasture amidst the
blackness of the heath, with cattle grazing on them, and here and there
was a little tillage: the land was little better than level, only it
swelled a little this way and that. It was a bright sunny day and the
air very clear, and as they rode Ralph said: "Quite clear is the sky,
and yet one cloud there is in the offing; but this is strange about it,
though I have been watching it this half hour, and looking to see the
rack come up from that quarter, yet it changes not at all. I never saw
the like of this cloud."
Said the minstrel: "Yea, fair sir, and of this cloud I must tell thee
that it will change no more till the bones of the earth are tumbled
together. Forsooth this is no cloud, but the topmost head of the
mountain ridge which men call the Wall of the World: and if ever thou
come close up to the said Wall, that shall fear thee, I deem, however
fearless thou be." "Is it nigh to Utterness?" said Ralph. "Nay," said
the minstrel, "not so nigh; for as huge as it seemeth thence."
Said Ralph: "Do folk tell that the Well at the World's End lieth
beyond it?" "Surely," said the minstrel.
Said Ralph, his face flushing: "Forsooth, that ancient lord of
Goldburg came through those mountains, and why not I?" "Yea," said the
minstrel, "why not?" And therewith he looked uneasily on Ralph, who
heeded his looks naught, for his mind was set on high matters.
On then they rode, and when trees or some dip in the land hid that
mountain top from them, the way seemed long to Ralph.
Naught befell to tell of for some while; but at last, when it was
drawing towards evening again, they had been riding through a thick
pine-wood for a long while, and coming out of it they beheld before
them a plain country fairly well grassed, but lo! on the field not far
from the roadside a pavilion pitched and a banner on the top thereof,
but the banner hung down about the staff, so that the bearing was not
seen: and about this pavilion, which was great and rich of fashion,
were many tents great and small, and there were horses tethered in the
field, and men moving about the gleam of armour.
At this sight the minstrel drew rein and stared about him wildly; but
Ralph said: "What is this, is it the peril aforesaid?" "Yea," quoth
the minstrel, shivering with fear. "What aileth thee?" said Ralph;
"have we not the let-pass, what then can befall us? If this be other
than the Lord of Utterbol, he will see our let-pass and let us alone;
or if it be he indeed, what harm shall he do to the bearers of his own
pass? Come on then, or else (and therewith he half drew his sword) is
this Lord of Utterbol but another name for the Devil in Hell?"
But the minstrel still stared wild and trembled; then he stammered out:
"I thought I should bring thee to Utterness first, and that some other
should lead thee thence, I did not look to see him. I dare not, I dare
not! O look, look!"
As he spake the wind arose and ran along the wood-side, and beat back
from it and stirred the canvas of the tents and raised the folds of the
banner, and blew it out, so that the bearing was clear to see; yet
Ralph deemed it naught dreadful, but an armoury fit for a baron, to
wit, a black bear on a castle-wall on a field of gold.
But as Ralph sat on his horse gazing, himseemed that men were looking
towards him, and a great horn was sounded hard by the pavilion; then
Ralph looked toward the minstrel fiercely, and laughed and said: "I
see now that thou art another traitor: so get thee gone; I have more to
do than the slaying of thee." And therewith he turned his horse's head,
and smote the spurs into the sides of him, and went a great gallop over
the field on the right side of the road, away from the gay pavilion;
but even therewith came a half-score of horsemen from the camp, as if
they were awaiting him, and they spurred after him straightway.
The race was no long one, for Ralph's beast was wearied, and the other
horses were fresh, and Ralph knew naught of the country before him,
whereas those riders knew it well. Therefore it was but a few minutes
till they came up with him, and he made no show of defence, but
suffered them to lead him away, and he crossed the highway, where he
saw no token of the minstrel.
So they brought him to the pavilion, and made him dismount and led him
in. The dusk had fallen by now, but within it was all bright with
candles. The pavilion was hung with rich silken cloth, and at the
further end, on a carpet of the hunting, was an ivory chair, whereon
sat a man, who was the only one sitting. He was clad in a gown of blue
silk, broidered with roundels beaten with the Bear upon the Castle-wall.
Ralph deemed that this must be no other than the Lord of Utterbol, yet
after all the tales he had heard of that lord, he seemed no such
terrible man: he was short of stature, but broad across the shoulders,
his hair long, strait, and dark brown of hue, and his beard scanty: he
was straight-featured and smooth-faced, and had been no ill-looking
man, save that his skin was sallow and for his eyes, which were brown,
small, and somewhat bloodshot.
Beside him stood Morfinn bowed down with fear and not daring to look
either at the Lord or at Ralph. Wherefore he knew for certain that
when he had called him traitor even now, that it was no more than the
very sooth, and that he had fallen into the trap; though how or why he
wotted not clearly. Well then might his heart have fallen, but so it
was, that when he looked into the face of this Lord, the terror of the
lands, hatred of him so beset his heart that it swallowed up fear in
him. Albeit he held himself well in hand, for his soul was waxing, and
he deemed that he should yet do great deeds, therefore he desired to
live, whatsoever pains or shame of the passing day he might suffer.
Now this mighty lord spake, and his voice was harsh and squeaking, so
that the sound of it was worse than the sight of his face; and he said:
"Bring the man forth, that I may see him." So they brought up Ralph,
till he was eye to eye with the Lord, who turned to Morfinn and said:
"Is this thy catch, lucky man?" "Yea," quavered Morfinn, not lifting
his eyes; "Will he do, lord?"
"Do?" said the lord, "How can I see him when he is all muffled up in
steel? Ye fools! doff his wargear."
Speedily then had they stripped Ralph of hauberk, and helm, and arm and
leg plates, so that he stood up in his jerkin and breeches, and the
lord leaned forward to look on him as if he were cheapening a horse;
and then turned to a man somewhat stricken in years, clad in scarlet,
who stood on his other hand, and said to him: "Well, David the Sage, is
this the sort of man? Is he goodly enough?"
Then the elder put on a pair of spectacles and eyed Ralph curiously a
while, and then said: "There are no two words to be said about it; he
is a goodly and well-fashioned a young man as was ever sold."
"Well," said the lord, turning towards Morfinn, "the catch is good,
lucky man: David will give thee gold for it, and thou mayst go back
west when thou wilt. And thou must be lucky again, moreover; because
there are women needed for my house; and they must be goodly and meek,
and not grievously marked with stripes, or branded, so that thou hadst
best take them, luckily if thou mayst, and not buy them. Now go, for
there are more than enough men under this woven roof, and we need no
half-men to boot."
Said David, the old man, grinning: "He will hold him well paid if he
go unscathed from before thee, lord: for he looked not to meet thee
here, but thought to bring the young man to Utterness, that he might be
kept there till thou camest."
The lord said, grimly: "He is not far wrong to fear me, maybe: but he
shall go for this time. But if he bring me not those women within
three months' wearing, and if there be but two uncomely ones amongst
them, let him look to it. Give him his gold, David. Now take ye the
new man, and let him rest, and give him meat and drink. And look you,
David, if he be not in condition when he cometh home to Utterbol, thou
shalt pay for it in one way or other, if not in thine own person, since
thou art old, and deft of service, then through those that be dear to
thee. Go now!"
David smiled on Ralph and led him out unto a tent not far off, and
there he made much of him, and bade bring meat and drink and all he
needed. Withal he bade him not to try fleeing, lest he be slain; and
he showed him how nigh the guards were and how many.
Glad was the old man when he saw the captive put a good face on
matters, and that he was not down-hearted. In sooth that hatred of the
tyrant mingled with hope sustained Ralph's heart. He had been minded
when he was brought before the lord to have shown the letter of the
Queen of Goldburg, and to defy him if he still held him captive. But
when he had beheld him and his fellowship a while he thought better of
it. For though they had abundance of rich plenishing, and gay raiment,
and good weapons and armour, howbeit of strange and uncouth fashion,
yet he deemed when he looked on them that they would scarce have the
souls of men in their bodies, but that they were utterly vile through
and through, like the shapes of an evil dream. Therefore he thought
shame of it to show the Queen's letter to them, even as if he had shown
them the very naked body of her, who had been so piteous kind to him.
Also he had no mind to wear his heart on his sleeve, but would keep his
own counsel, and let his foemen speak and show what was in their minds.
For this cause he now made himself sweet, and was of good cheer with
old David, deeming him to be a great man there; as indeed he was, being
the chief counsellor of the Lord of Utterbol; though forsooth not so
much his counsellor as that he durst counsel otherwise than as the Lord
desired to go; unless he thought that it would bring his said Lord, and
therefore himself, to very present peril and damage. In short, though
this man had not been bought for money, he was little better than a
thrall of the higher sort, as forsooth were all the Lord's men, saving
the best and trustiest of his warriors: and these were men whom the
Lord somewhat feared himself: though, on the other hand, he could not
but know that they understood how the dread of the Lord of Utterbol was
a shield to them, and that if it were to die out amongst men, their own
skins were not worth many days' purchase.
So then David spake pleasantly with Ralph, and ate and drank with him,
and saw that he was well bedded for the night, and left him in the
first watch. But Ralph lay down in little more trouble than the night
before, when, though he were being led friendly to Utterness, yet he
had not been able to think what he should do when he came there:
whereas now he thought: Who knoweth what shall betide? and for me there
is nought to do save to lay hold of the occasion that another may give
me. And at the worst I scarce deem that I am being led to the
slaughter.