that it shall be the worse for you in any wise that ye shall become one
flesh; and right joyful it is to us, not only that we have found folk
who seek to the Well at the World's End, but also that there is such
love as I perceive there is betwixt such goodly and holy folk as ye be.
For hither we come year by year according to the behest that we made to
the fairest woman of the world, when she came back to us from the Well
at the World's End, and it is many and many a year ago since we found
any seekers after the Well dwelling here. Therefore have we the more
joy in you. And we have brought hither matters good for you, as
raiment, and meal, and wine, on our sumpter-beasts; therefore as ye
have feasted us this morning, so shall we feast you this even. And if
ye will, we shall build for you in the grove yonder such a bower as we
build for our own folk on the night of the wedding."
Ralph yeasaid this, and thanked them. So then the elder cried: "Up, my
sons, and show your deftness to these dear friends!" Then the young men
arose, naught loth, and when they had hoppled their oxen and taken the
burdens from off them, they all went down the meadow together into the
chestnut grove, and they fell to and cut willow boughs, and such-like
wood, and drave stakes and wove the twigs together; and Ralph and
Ursula worked with them as they bade, and they were all very merry
together: because for those two wanderers it was a great delight to see
the faces of the children of men once more after so many months, and to
hold converse with them; while for their part the young men marvelled
at Ursula's beauty, and the pith and goodliness of Ralph.
By then it was nigh evening they had made a very goodly wattled bower,
and roofed it with the skins that were in the cave, and hung it about
with garlands, and strewn flowers on the floor thereof. And when all
was done they went back to the toft before the rock-chamber, where the
elder had opened the loads, and had taken meal thence, and was making
cakes at the fire. And there was wine there in well-hooped kegs, and
wooden cups fairly carven, and raiment of fine white wool for those
twain, broidered in strange but beauteous fashion with the feathers of
bright-hued birds.
So then were those twain arrayed for the bridal; and the meat was dight
and the cups filled, and they sat down on the grassy toft a little
before sunset, and feasted till the night was come, and was grown all
light with the moon; and then Ralph rose up, and took Ursula's hand,
and they stood before the elder, and bade him and the young men bear
witness that they were wedded: then those twain kissed the newcomers
and departed to their bridal bower hand in hand through the freshness
of the night.
CHAPTER 15
They Come to the Land of the Innocent Folk
When it was morning they speedily gat them ready for the road, whereas
they had little to take with them; so they departed joyously, howbeit
both Ralph and Ursula felt rather love than loathing for their winter
abode. The day was yet young when they went their ways. Their horses
and all their gear were a great wonder to the young men, for they had
seen no such beasts before: but the elder said that once in his young
days he had led a man to the Well who was riding a horse and was clad
in knightly array.
So they went by ways which were nowise dreadful, though they were void
of men-folk, and in three days' time they were come out of the
mountains, and in three more the said mountains were to behold but a
cloud behind them, and the land was grown goodly, with fair valleys and
little hills, though still they saw no men, and forsooth they went
leisurely, for oxen are but slow-going nags. But when they were gone
eight days from the Valley of Sweet-chestnuts, they came across a flock
of uncouth-looking sheep on a green hill-side, and four folk
shepherding them, two carles to wit, and two queans, like to their
way-leaders, but scarce so goodly, and ruder of raiment. These men
greeted them kindly, and yet with more worship than fellowship, and
they marvelled exceedingly at their horses and weapons. Thence they
passed on, and the next day came into a wide valley, well-grassed and
watered, and wooded here and there; moreover there were cots scattered
about it. There and thenceforth they met men a many, both carles and
queans, and sheep and neat in plenty, and they passed by garths wherein
the young corn was waxing, and vineyards on the hillsides, where the
vines were beginning to grow green. The land seemed as goodly as might
be, and all the folk they met were kind, if somewhat over reverent.
On the evening of that day they came into the town of that folk, which
was but simple, wholly unfenced for war, and the houses but low, and
not great. Yet was there naught of filth or famine, nor any poverty or
misery; and the people were merry-faced and well-liking, and clad
goodly after their fashion in white woollen cloth or frieze. All the
people of the town were come forth to meet them, for runners had gone
before them, and they stood on either side of the way murmuring
greetings, and with their heads bent low in reverence.
Thus rode Ralph and Ursula up to the door of the Temple, or Mote-house,
or Guest-house, for it was all these, a house great, and as fair as
they knew how to make it. Before the door thereof were standing the
elders of the Folk; and when they drew rein, the eldest and most
reverend of these came forth and spake in a cheerful voice, yet
solemnly: "Welcome and thrice welcome to the Seekers after length of
days and happy times, and the loving-kindness of the Folks of the
Earth!"
Then all the elders gathered about them, and bade them light down and
be at rest amongst them, and they made much of them and brought them
into the Mote-house, where-in were both women and men fair and stately,
and the men took Ralph by the hand and the women Ursula, and brought
them into chambers where they bathed them and did off their wayfaring
raiment, and clad them in white woollen gowns of web exceeding fine,
and fragrant withal. Then they crowned them with flowers, and led them
back into the hall, whereas now was much folk gathered, and they set
them down on a dais as though they had been kings, or rather gods; and
when they beheld them there so fair and lovely, they cried out for joy
of them, and bade them hail oft and oft.
There then were they feasted by that kind folk, and when meat was done
certain youths and maidens fell to singing songs very sweetly; and the
words of the songs were simple and harmless, and concerning the
fairness of the earth and the happy loves of the creatures that dwell
therein.
Thereafter as the night aged, they were shown to a sleeping chamber,
which albeit not richly decked, or plenished with precious things, was
most dainty clean, and sweet smelling, and strewn with flowers, so that
the night was sweet to them in a chamber of love.
CHAPTER 16
They Come to the House of the Sorceress
On the morrow the kind people delayed them little, though they sorrowed
for their departure, and before noon were their old way-leaders ready
for them; and the old man and his two grandsons (for such they were)
were much honoured of the simple people for their way-leading of the
Heavenly Folk; for so they called Ralph and Ursula. So they gat them
to the way in suchlike guise as before, only they had with them five
sumpter oxen instead of two; for the old man told them that not only
was their way longer, but also they must needs pass through a terrible
waste, wherein was naught for their avail, neither man, nor beast, nor
herb. Even so they found it as he said; for after the first day's ride
from the town they came to the edge of this same waste, and on the
fourth day were deep in the heart of it: a desert it was, rather rocky
and stony and sandy than mountainous, though they had hills to cross
also: withal there was but little water there, and that foul and
stinking. Long lasted this waste, and Ralph thought indeed that it had
been hard to cross, had not their way-leaders been; therefore he made
marks and signs by the wayside, and took note of the bearings of rocks
and mounds against the day of return.
Twelve days they rode this waste, and on the thirteenth it began to
mend somewhat, and there was a little grass, and sweet waters, and they
saw ahead the swelling hills of a great woodland, albeit they had to
struggle through marshland and low scrubby thicket for a day longer, or
ever they got to the aforesaid trees, which at first were naught but
pines; but these failed in a while, and they rode a grass waste nearly
treeless, but somewhat well watered, where they gat them good store of
venison. Thereafter they came on woods of oak and sweet-chestnut, with
here and there a beech-wood.
Long and long they rode the woodland, but it was hard on May when they
entered it, and it was pleasant therein, and what with one thing, what
with another, they had abundant livelihood there. Yet was June at its
full when at last they came within sight of the House of the Sorceress,
on the hottest of a fair afternoon. And it was even as Ralph had seen
it pictured in the arras of the hall of the Castle of Abundance; a
little house built after the fashion of houses in his own land of the
west; the thatch was trim, and the windows and doors were unbroken, and
the garth was whole, and the goats feeding therein, and the wheat was
tall and blossoming in the little closes, where as he had looked to see
all broken down and wild, and as to the house, a mere grass-grown heap,
or at the most a broken gable fast crumbling away.
Then waxed his heart sore with the memory of that passed time, and the
sweetness of his short-lived love, though he refrained him all he
might: yet forsooth Ursula looked on him anxiously, so much his face
was changed by the thoughts of his heart.
But the elder of the way-leaders saw that he was moved, and deemed that
he was wondering at that house so trim and orderly amidst the wildwood,
so he said: "Here also do we after our behest to that marvellous and
lovely Lady, that we suffer not this house to go to ruin: ever are some
of our folk here, and every year about this season we send two or more
to take the places of those who have dwelt in the House year-long: so
ever is there someone to keep all things trim. But as to strangers, I
have never in my life seen any Seeker of the Well herein, save once,
and that was an old hoar man like to me, save that he was feebler in
all wise than I be."
Now Ralph heard him talking, yet noted his words but little; for it was
with him as if all the grief of heart which he had penned back for so
long a while swelled up within him and burst its bounds; and he turned
toward Ursula and their eyes met, and she looked shy and anxious on him
and he might no longer refrain himself, but put his hands to his face
(for they had now drawn rein at the garth-gate) and brake out a
weeping, and wept long for the friend whose feet had worn that path so
often, and whose heart, though she were dead, had brought them thither
for their thriving; and for love and sorrow of him Ursula wept also.
But the old man and his grandsons turned their heads away from his
weeping, and got off their horses, and went up to the house-door,
whereby were now standing a carle and a quean of their people. But
Ralph slowly gat off his horse and stood by Ursula who was on the
ground already, but would not touch her, for he was ashamed. But she
looked on him kindly and said: "Dear friend, there is no need for
shame; for though I be young, I know how grievous it is when the dead
that we have loved come across our ways, and we may not speak to them,
nor they to us. So I will but bid thee be comforted and abide in thy
love for the living and the dead." His tears brake out again at that
word, for he was but young, and for a while there was a lull in the
strife that had beset his days. But after a little he looked up, and
dashed the tears from his eyes and smiled on Ursula and said: "The
tale she told me of this place, the sweetness of it came back upon me,
and I might not forbear." She said: "O friend, thou art kind, and I
love thee."
So then they joined hands and went through the garth together, and up
to the door, where stood the wardens, who, when they saw them turning
thither, came speedily down the path to them, and would have knelt in
worship to them; but they would not suffer it, but embraced and kissed
them, and thanked them many times for their welcome. The said wardens,
both carle and quean, were goodly folk of middle age, stalwart, and
kind of face.
So then they went into the house together, and entered into the
self-same chamber, where of old the Lady of Abundance had sickened for
fear of the Sorceress sitting naked at her spell-work.
Great joy they made together, and the wardens set meat and drink before
the guests, and they ate and drank and were of good cheer. But the
elder who had brought them from Chestnut-dale said: "Dear friends, I
have told you that these two young men are my grand-children, and they
are the sons of this man and woman whom ye see; for the man is my son.
And so it is, that amongst us the care of the Quest of the Well at the
World's End hath for long been the heritage of our blood, going with us
from father to son. Therefore is it naught wonderful, though I have
been sundry times at this house, and have learned about the place all
that may be learned. For my father brought me hither when I was yet a
boy; that time it was that I saw the last man of whom we know for sure
that he drank of the Water of the Well, and he was that old hoar man
like unto me, but, as I said, far weaker in all wise; but when he came
back to us from the Well he was strong and stalwart, and a better man
than I am now; and I heard him tell his name to my father, that he was
called the Sage of Swevenham."
Ralph looked on Ursula and said: "Yea, father, and it was through him
that we had our lore concerning the way hither; and it was he that bade
us abide your coming in the rock-house of the Vale of Sweet-chestnuts."
"Then he is alive still," said the elder. Said Ralph: "Yea, and as
fair and strong an old man as ye may lightly see." "Yea, yea," said the
elder, "and yet fifty years ago his course seemed run."
Then said Ralph: "Tell me, father, have none of your own folk sought
to the Well at the World's End?" "Nay, none," said the elder. Said
Ralph: "That is strange, whereas ye are so nigh thereto, and have such
abundant lore concerning the way."
"Son," said the elder, "true it is that the water of that Well shall
cause a man to thrive in all ways, and to live through many generations
of men, maybe, in honour and good-liking; but it may not keep any man
alive for ever; for so have the Gods given us the gift of death lest we
weary of life. Now our folk live well and hale, and without the
sickness and pestilence, such as I have heard oft befall folk in other
lands: even as I heard the Sage of Swevenham say, and I wondered at his
words. Of strife and of war also we know naught: nor do we desire
aught which we may not easily attain to. Therefore we live long, and
we fear the Gods if we should strive to live longer, lest they should
bring upon us war and sickness, and over-weening desire, and weariness
of life. Moreover it is little that all of us should seek to the Well
at the World's End; and those few that sought and drank should be
stronger and wiser than the others, and should make themselves earthly
gods, and, maybe, should torment the others of us and make their lives
a very burden to be borne. Of such matters are there tales current
amongst us that so it hath been of yore and in other lands; and ill it
were if such times came back upon us."
Ralph hung his head and was silent; for the joy of the Quest seemed
dying out as the old man's words dropped slowly from his mouth. But he
smiled upon Ralph and went on: "But for you, guests, it is otherwise,
for ye of the World beyond the Mountains are stronger and more godlike
than we, as all tales tell; and ye wear away your lives desiring that
which ye may scarce get; and ye set your hearts on high things,
desiring to be masters of the very Gods. Therefore ye know sickness
and sorrow, and oft ye die before your time, so that ye must depart and
leave undone things which ye deem ye were born to do; which to all men
is grievous. And because of all this ye desire healing and thriving,
whether good come of it, or ill. Therefore ye do but right to seek to
the Well at the World's End, that ye may the better accomplish that
which behoveth you, and that ye may serve your fellows and deliver them
from the thralldom of those that be strong and unwise and unkind, of
whom we have heard strange tales."
Ralph reddened as he spake, and Ursula looked on him anxiously, but
that talk dropped for the present, and they fell to talking of lighter
and more familiar matters.
Thereafter they wandered about the woods with the wardens and the
way-leaders, and the elder brought them to the ancient altar in the
wood whereon the Sorceress had offered up the goat; and the howe of the
woman dight with the necklace of the Quest whom the Lady found dead in
the snow; and the place nigh the house where the Sorceress used to
torment her thrall that was afterwards the Lady of Abundance; yea, and
they went further afield till they came to the Vale of Lore, and the
Heath above it where they met, the King's Son and the Lady. All these
and other places were now become as hallowed ground to the Innocent
People, and to Ralph no less. In the house, moreover, was a fair ark
wherein they kept matters which had belonged to the Lady, as her shoes
and her smock, wrapped in goodly cloth amidst well-smelling herbs; and
these things they worshipped as folk do with relics of the saints. In
another ark also they showed the seekers a book wherein was written
lore concerning the Well, and the way thereto. But of this book had
the Sage forewarned Ralph and his mate, and had bidden them look to it
that they should read in it, and no otherwhere than at that ancient
altar in the wood, they two alone, and clad in such-like gear as they
wore when they hearkened to his reading by his hermitage. And so it
was that they found the due raiment in the ark along with the book.
Therefore day after day betimes in the morning they bore the said book
to the altar and read therein, till they had learned much wisdom.
Thus they did for eight days, and on the ninth they rested and were
merry with their hosts: but on the tenth day they mounted their horses
and said farewell, and departed by the ways they had learned of, they
two alone. And they had with them bread and meal, as much as they
might bear, and water-skins moreover, that they might fill them at the
last sweet water before they came to the waterless desert.
CHAPTER 17
They Come Through the Woodland to the Thirsty Desert
So they ride their ways, and when they were come well into the wildwood
past the house, and had spoken but few words to each other, Ralph put
forth his hand, and stayed Ursula, and they gat off their horses under
a great-limbed oak, and did off their armour, and sat down on the
greensward there, and loved each other dearly, and wept for joy of
their pain and travail and love. And afterwards, as they sat side by
side leaning up against the great oak-bole, Ralph spake and said: "Now
are we two once again all alone in the uttermost parts of the earth,
and belike we are not very far from the Well at the World's End; and
now I have bethought me that if we gain that which we seek for, and
bear back our lives to our own people, the day may come when we are
grown old, for as young as we may seem, that we shall be as lonely then
as we are this hour, and that the folk round about us shall be to us as
much and no more than these trees and the wild things that dwell
amongst them."
She looked on him and laughed as one over-happy, and said: "Thou
runnest forward swiftly to meet trouble, beloved! But I say that well
will it be in those days if I love the folk then as well as now I love
these trees and the wild things whose house they are."
And she rose up therewith and threw her arms about the oak-bole and
kissed its ruggedness, while Ralph as he lay kissed the sleekness of
her feet. And there came a robin hopping over the leaves anigh them,
for in that wood most of the creatures, knowing not man, were tame to
him, and feared the horses of those twain more than their riders. And
now as Ursula knelt to embrace Ralph with one hand, she held out the
other to the said robin who perched on her wrist, and sat there as a
hooded falcon had done, and fell to whistling his sweet notes, as if he
were a-talking to those new-comers: then Ursula gave him a song-reward
of their broken meat, and he flew up and perched on her shoulder, and
nestled up against her cheek, and she laughed happily and said: "Lo
you, sweet, have not the wild things understood my words, and sent this
fair messenger to foretell us all good?"
"It is good," said Ralph laughing, "yet the oak-tree hath not spoken
yet, despite of all thy kissing: and lo there goes thy friend the
robin, now thou hast no more meat to give him."
"He is flying towards the Well at the World's End," she said, "and
biddeth us onward: let us to horse and hasten: for if thou wilt have
the whole truth concerning my heart, it is this, that some chance-hap
may yet take thee from me ere thou hast drunk of the waters of the
Well."
"Yea," said Ralph, "and in the innermost of my heart lieth the fear
that mayhappen there is no Well, and no healing in it if we find it,
and that death, and the backward way may yet sunder us. This is the
worst of my heart, and evil is my coward fear."
But she cast her arms about him and kissed and caressed him, and cried
out: "Yea, then fair have been the days of our journeying, and fair
this hour of the green oak! And bold and true thine heart that hath
led thee thus far, and won thee thy desire of my love."
So then they armed them, and mounted their horses and set forward.
They lived well while they were in the wood, but on the third day they
came to where it thinned and at last died out into a stony waste like
unto that which they had passed through before they came to the House
of the Sorceress, save that this lay in ridges as the waves of a great
sea; and these same ridges they were bidden to cross over at their
highest, lest they should be bewildered in a maze of little hills and
dales leading no whither.
So they entered on this desert, having filled their water-skins at a
clear brook, whereat they rejoiced when they found that the face of the
wilderness was covered with a salt scurf, and that naught grew there
save a sprinkling of small sage bushes.
Now on the second day of their riding this ugly waste, as they came up
over the brow of one of these stony ridges, Ralph the far-sighted cried
out suddenly: "Hold! for I see a man weaponed."
"Where is he?" quoth Ursula, "and what is he about?" Said Ralph: "He
is up yonder on the swell of the next ridge, and by seeming is asleep
leaning against a rock."
Then he bent the Turk bow and set an arrow on the string and they went
on warily. When they were down at the foot of the ridge Ralph hailed
the man with a lusty cry, but gat no answer of him; so they went on up
the bent, till Ralph said: "Now I can see his face under his helm, and
it is dark and the eyes are hollow: I will off horse and go up to him
afoot, but do thou, beloved, sit still in thy saddle."
But when he had come nigher, he turned and cried out to her: "The man
is dead, come anigh." So she went up to him and dismounted, and they
both together stood over the man, who was lying up against a big stone
like one at rest. How long he had lain there none knows but God; for
in the saltness of the dry desert the flesh had dried on his bones
without corrupting, and was as hardened leather. He was in full armour
of a strange and ancient fashion, and his sword was girt to his side,
neither was there any sign of a wound about him. Under a crag anigh
him they found his horse, dead and dry like to himself; and a little
way over the brow of the ridge another horse in like case; and close by
him a woman whose raiment had not utterly perished, nor her hair; there
were gold rings on her arms, and her shoes were done with gold: she had
a knife stuck in her breast, with her hand still clutching the handle
thereof; so that it seemed that she had herself given herself death.
Ralph and Ursula buried these two with the heaping of stones and went
their ways; but some two miles thence they came upon another dead
man-at-arms, and near him an old man unweaponed, and they heaped stones
on them.
Thereabout night overtook them, and it was dark, so they lay down in
the waste, and comforted each other, and slept two or three hours, but
arose with the first glimmer of dawn, and mounted and rode forth
onward, that they might the sooner be out of that deadly desert, for
fear clung to their hearts.
This day, forsooth, they found so many dead folk, that they might not
stay to bury them, lest they themselves should come to lie there
lacking burial. So they made all the way they might, and rode on some
hours by starlight after the night was come, for it was clear and cold.
So that at last they were so utterly wearied that they lay down amongst
those dead folk, and slept soundly.
On the morrow morn Ralph awoke and saw Ursula sleeping peacefully as he
deemed, and he looked about on the dreary desert and its dead men and
saw no end to it, though they lay on the top of one of those stony
bents; and he said softly to himself: "Will it end at all then?
Surely all this people of the days gone by were Seekers of the Well as
we be; and have they belike turned back from somewhere further on, and
might not escape the desert despite of all? Shall we turn now: shall
we turn? surely we might get into the kindly wood from here."
So he spake; but Ursula sat up (for she was not asleep) and said: "The
perils of the waste being abundant and exceeding hard to face, would
not the Sage or his books have told us of the most deadly?" Said Ralph:
"Yet here are all these dead, and we were not told of them,
nevertheless we have seen the token on the rocks oft-times yesterday,
so we are yet in the road, unless all this hath been but a snare and a
betrayal."
She shook her head, and was silent a little; then she said: "Ralph, my
lad, didst thou see this token (and she set hand to the beads about her
neck) on any of those dead folk yesterday?" "Nay," said Ralph, "though
sooth to say I looked for it." "And I in likewise," she said; "for
indeed I had misgivings as the day grew old; but now I say, let us on
in the faith of that token and the kindness of the Sage, and the love
of the Innocent People; yea, and thy luck, O lad of the green fields
far away, that hath brought thee unscathed so far from Upmeads."
So they mounted and rode forth, and saw more and more of the dead folk;
and ever and anon they looked to them to note if they wore the beads
like to them but saw none so dight. Then Ursula said: "Yea, why should
the Sage and the books have told us aught of these dead bodies, that
are but as the plenishing of the waste; like to the flowers that are
cast down before the bier of a saint on a holy-day to be trodden under
foot by the churls and the vicars of the close. Forsooth had they been
alive now, with swords to smite withal, and hands to drag us into
captivity, it had been another matter: but against these I feel bold."
Ralph sighed, and said: "Yea, but even if we die not in the waste, yet
this is piteous; so many lives passed away, so many hopes slain."
"Yea," she said; "but do not folk die there in the world behind us? I
have seen sights far worser than this at Utterbol, little while as I
was there. Moreover I can note that this army of dead men has not come
all in one day or one year, but in a long, long while, by one and two
and three; for hast thou not noted that their raiment and wargear both,
is of many fashions, and some much more perished than other, long as
things last in this Dry Waste? I say that men die as in the world
beyond, but here we see them as they lie dead, and have lain for so
long."
He said: "I fear neither the Waste nor the dead men if thou fearest
not, beloved: but I lament for these poor souls."
"And I also," said she; "therefore let us on, that we may come to those
whose grief we may heal."
CHAPTER 18
They Come to the Dry Tree
Presently as they rode they had before them one of the greatest of
those land-waves, and they climbed it slowly, going afoot and leading
their horses; but when they were but a little way from the brow they
saw, over a gap thereof, something, as it were huge horns rising up
into the air beyond the crest of the ridge. So they marvelled, and
drew their swords, and held them still awhile, misdoubting if this were
perchance some terrible monster of the waste; but whereas the thing
moved not at all, they plucked up heart and fared on.
So came they to the brow and looked over it into a valley, about which
on all sides went the ridge, save where it was broken down into a
narrow pass on the further side, so that the said valley was like to
one of those theatres of the ancient Roman Folk, whereof are some to be
seen in certain lands. Neither did those desert benches lack their
sitters; for all down the sides of the valley sat or lay children of
men; some women, but most men-folk, of whom the more part were
weaponed, and some with their drawn swords in their hands. Whatever
semblance of moving was in them was when the eddying wind of the valley
stirred the rags of their raiment, or the long hair of the women. But
a very midmost of this dreary theatre rose up a huge and monstrous
tree, whose topmost branches were even the horns which they had seen
from below the hill's brow. Leafless was that tree and lacking of
twigs, and its bole upheld but some fifty of great limbs, and as they
looked on it, they doubted whether it were not made by men's hands
rather than grown up out of the earth. All round about the roots of it
was a pool of clear water, that cast back the image of the valley-side
and the bright sky of the desert, as though it had been a mirror of
burnished steel. The limbs of that tree were all behung with blazoned
shields and knight's helms, and swords, and spears, and axes, and
hawberks; and it rose up into the air some hundred feet above the flat
of the valley.
For a while they looked down silently on to this marvel then from both
their lips at once came the cry THE DRY TREE. Then Ralph thrust his
sword back into his sheath and said: "Meseems I must needs go down
amongst them; there is naught to do us harm here; for all these are
dead like the others that we saw."
Ursula turned to him with burning cheeks and sparkling eyes, and said
eagerly: "Yea, yea, let us go down, else might we chance to miss
something that we ought to wot of."
Therewith she also sheathed her sword, and they went both of them down
together, and that easily; for as aforesaid the slope was as if it had
been cut into steps for their feet. And as they passed by the dead
folk, for whom they had often to turn aside, they noted that each of
the dead leathery faces was drawn up in a grin as though they had died
in pain, and yet beguiled, so that all those visages looked somewhat
alike, as though they had come from the workshop of one craftsman.
At last Ralph and Ursula stood on the level ground underneath the Tree,
and they looked up at the branches, and down to the water at their
feet; and now it seemed to them as though the Tree had verily growth in
it, for they beheld its roots, that they went out from the mound or
islet of earth into the water, and spread abroad therein, and seemed to
waver about. So they walked around the Tree, and looked up at the
shields that hung on its branches, but saw no blazon that they knew,
though they were many and diverse; and the armour also and weapons were
very diverse of fashion.
Now when they were come back again to the place where they had first
stayed, Ralph said: "I thirst, and so belike dost thou; and here is
water good and clear; let us drink then, and so spare our water-skins,
for belike the dry desert is yet long." And therewith he knelt down
that he might take of the water in the hollow of his hand. But Ursula
drew him back, and cried out in terror: "O Ralph, do it not! Seest
thou not this water, that although it be bright and clear, so that we
may see all the pebbles at the bottom, yet nevertheless when the wind
eddies about, and lifts the skirts of our raiment, it makes no ripple
on the face of the pool, and doubtless it is heavy with venom; and
moreover there is no sign of the way hereabout, as at other
watering-steads; O forbear, Ralph!"
Then he rose up and drew back with her but slowly and unwillingly as
she deemed; and they stood together a while gazing on these marvels.
But lo amidst of this while, there came a crow wheeling over the valley
of the dead, and he croaked over the Dry Tree, and let himself drop
down to the edge of the pool, whereby he stalked about a little after
the manner of his kind. Then he thrust his neb into the water and
drank, and thereafter took wing again; but ere he was many feet off the
ground he gave a grievous croak, and turning over in the air fell down
stark dead close to the feet of those twain; and Ralph cried out but
spake no word with meaning therein; then said Ursula: "Yea, thus are
we saved from present death." Then she looked in Ralph's face, and
turned pale and said hastily: "O my friend how is it with thee?" But
she waited not for an answer, but turned her face to the bent whereby
they had come down, and cried out in a loud, shrill voice: "O Ralph,
Ralph! look up yonder to the ridge whereby we left our horses; look,
look! there glitters a spear and stirreth! and lo a helm underneath the
spear: tarry not, let us save our horses!"
Then Ralph let a cry out from his mouth, and set off running to the
side of the slope, and fell to climbing it with great strides, not
heeding Ursula; but she followed close after, and scrambled up with
foot and hand and knee, till she stood beside him on the top, and he
looked around wildly and cried out: "Where! where are they?"
"Nowhere," she said, "it was naught but my word to draw thee from
death; but praise to the saints that thou are come alive out of the
accursed valley."
He seemed not to hearken, but turned about once, and beat the air with
his hands, and then fell down on his back and with a great wail she
cast herself upon him, for she deemed at first that he was dead. But
she took a little water from one of their skins, and cast it into his
face, and took a flask of cordial from her pouch, and set it to his
lips, and made him drink somewhat thereof. So in a while he came to
himself and opened his eyes and smiled upon her, and she took his head
in her hands and kissed his cheek, and he sat up and said feebly:
"Shall we not go down into the valley? there is naught there to harm
us."
"We have been down there already," she said, "and well it is that we
are not both lying there now."
Then he got to his feet, and stretched himself, and yawned like one
just awakened from long sleep. But she said: "Let us to horse and
begone; it is early hours to slumber, for those that are seeking the
Well at the World's End."
He smiled on her again and took her hand, and she led him to his horse,
and helped him till he was in the saddle and lightly she gat
a-horseback, and they rode away swiftly from that evil place; and after
a while Ralph was himself again, and remembered all that had happened
till he fell down on the brow of the ridge. Then he praised Ursula's
wisdom and valiancy till she bade him forbear lest he weary her.
Albeit she drew up close to him and kissed his face sweetly.
CHAPTER 19
They Come Out of the Thirsty Desert
Past the Valley of the Dry Tree they saw but few dead men lying about,
and soon they saw never another: and, though the land was still utterly
barren, and all cast up into ridges as before, yet the salt slime grew
less and less, and before nightfall of that day they had done with it:
and the next day those stony waves were lower; and the next again the
waste was but a swelling plain, and here and there they came on patches
of dwarf willow, and other harsh and scanty herbage, whereof the horses
might have a bait, which they sore needed, for now was their fodder
done: but both men and horses were sore athirst; for, as carefully as
they had hoarded their water, there was now but little left, which they
durst not drink till they were driven perforce, lest they should yet
die of drought.
They journeyed long that day, and whereas the moon was up at night-tide
they lay not down till she was set; and their resting place was by some
low bushes, whereabout was rough grass mingled with willow-herb,
whereby Ralph judged that they drew nigh to water, so or ever they
slept, they and the horses all but emptied the water-skins. They heard
some sort of beasts roaring in the night, but they were too weary to
watch, and might not make a fire.
When Ralph awoke in the morning he cried out that he could see the
woodland; and Ursula arose at his cry and looked where he pointed, and
sure enough there were trees on a rising ground some two miles ahead,
and beyond them, not very far by seeming, they beheld the tops of great
dark mountains. On either hand moreover, nigh on their right hand, far
off on their left, ran a reef of rocks, so that their way seemed to be
as between two walls. And these said reefs were nowise like those that
they had seen of late, but black and, as to their matter, like to the
great mountains by the rock of the Fighting Man: but as the reefs ran
eastward they seemed to grow higher.
Now they mounted their horses at once and rode on; and the beasts were
as eager as they were, and belike smelt the water. So when they had
ridden but three miles, they saw a fair little river before them
winding about exceedingly, but flowing eastward on the whole. So they
spurred on with light hearts and presently were on the banks of the
said river, and its waters were crystal-clear, though its sands were
black: and the pink-blossomed willow-herb was growing abundantly on the
sandy shores. Close to the water was a black rock, as big as a man,
whereon was graven the sign of the way, so they knew that there was no
evil in the water, wherefore they drank their fill and watered their
horses abundantly, and on the further bank was there abundance of good
grass. So when they had drunk their fill, for the pleasure of the cool
water they waded the ford barefoot, and it was scarce above Ursula's
knee. Then they had great joy to lie on the soft grass and eat their
meat, while the horses tore eagerly at the herbage close to them. So
when they had eaten, they rested awhile, but before they went further
they despoiled them, one after other, and bathed in a pool of the river
to wash the foul wilderness off them. Then again they rested and let
the horses yet bite the grass, and departed not from that pleasant
place till it was two hours after noon. As they were lying there Ralph
said he could hear a great roar like the sound of many waters, but very
far off: but to Ursula it seemed naught but the wind waxing in the
boughs of the woodland anigh them.
CHAPTER 20
They Come to the Ocean Sea
Being come to the wood they went not very far into it that day, for
they were minded to rest them after the weariness of the wilderness:
they feasted on a hare which Ralph shot, and made a big fire to keep
off evil beasts, but none came nigh them, though they heard the voices
of certain beasts as the night grew still. To be short, they slept far
into the morrow's morn, and then, being refreshed, and their horses
also, they rode strongly all day, and found the wood to be not very
great; for before sunset they were come to its outskirts, and the
mountains lay before them. These were but little like to that huge
wall they had passed through on their way to Chestnut-dale, being
rather great hills than mountains, grass-grown, and at their feet
somewhat wooded, and by seeming not over hard to pass over.
The next day they entered them by a pass marked with the token, which
led them about by a winding way till they were on the side of the
biggest fell of all; so there they rested that night in a fair little
hollow or dell in the mountain-side. There in the stillness of the
night both Ursula, as well as Ralph, heard that roaring of a great
water, and they said to each other that it must be the voice of the
Sea, and they rejoiced thereat, for they had learned by the Sage and
his books that they must needs come to the verge of the Ocean-Sea,
which girdles the earth about. So they arose betimes on the morrow,
and set to work to climb the mountain, going mostly a-foot; and the way
was long, but not craggy or exceeding steep, so that in five hours'
time they were at the mountain-top, and coming over the brow beheld
beneath them fair green slopes besprinkled with trees, and beyond them,
some three or four miles away, the blue landless sea and on either hand
of them was the sea also, so that they were nigh-hand at the ending of
a great ness, and there was naught beyond it; and naught to do if they
missed the Well, but to turn back by the way they had come.
Now when they saw this they were exceedingly moved and they looked on
one another, and each saw that the other was pale, with glistening
eyes, since they were to come to the very point of their doom, and that
it should be seen whether there were no such thing as the Well in all
the earth, but that they had been chasing a fair-hued cloud; or else
their Quest should be achieved and they should have the world before
them, and they happy and mighty, and of great worship amidst all men.
Little they tarried, but gat them down the steep of the mountain, and
so lower and lower till they were come to ground nigh level; and then
at last it was but thus, that without any great rock-wall or girdle of
marvellous and strange land, there was an end of earth, with its grass
and trees and streams, and a beginning of the ocean, which stretched
away changeless, and it might be for ever. Where the land ended there
was but a cliff of less than an hundred feet above the eddying of the
sea; and on the very point of the ness was a low green toft with a
square stone set atop of it, whereon as they drew nigh they saw the
token graven, yea on each face thereof.
Then they went along the edge of the cliff a mile on each side of the
said toft, and then finding naught else to note, naught save the grass
and the sea, they came back to that place of the token, and sat down on
the grass of the toft.
It was now evening, and the sun was setting beyond them, but they could
behold a kind of stair cut in the side of the cliff, and on the first
step whereof was the token done; wherefore they knew that they were
bidden to go down by the said stair; but it seemed to lead no whither,
save straight into the sea. And whiles it came into Ralph's mind that
this was naught but a mock, as if to bid the hapless seekers cast
themselves down from the earth, and be done with it for ever. But in
any case they might not try the adventure of that stair by the failing
light, and with the night long before them. So when they had hoppled
their horses, and left them to graze at their will on the sweet grass
of the meadow, they laid them down behind the green toft, and, being
forwearied, it was no long time ere they twain slept fast at the
uttermost end of the world.
CHAPTER 21
Now They Drink of the Well at the World's End
Ralph awoke from some foolish morning dream of Upmeads, wondering where
he was, or what familiar voice had cried out his name: then he raised
himself on his elbow, and saw Ursula standing before him with flushed
face and sparkling eyes, and she was looking out seaward, while she
called on his name. So he sprang up and strove with the slumber that
still hung about him, and as his eyes cleared he looked down, and saw
that the sea, which last night had washed the face of the cliff, had
now ebbed far out, and left bare betwixt the billows and the cliff some
half mile of black sand, with rocks of the like hue rising out of it
here and there. But just below the place where they stood, right up
against the cliff, was builded by man's hand of huge stones a garth or
pound, the wall whereof was some seven feet high, and the pound within
the wall of forty feet space endlong and overthwart; and the said pound
was filled with the waters of a spring that came forth from the face of
the cliff as they deemed, though from above they might not see the
issue thereof; but the water ran seaward from the pound by some way
unseen, and made a wide stream through the black sand of the foreshore:
but ever the great basin filled somewhat faster than it voided, so that
it ran over the lip on all sides, making a thin veil over the huge
ashlar-stones of the garth. The day was bright and fair with no wind,
save light airs playing about from the westward ort, and all things
gleamed and glittered in the sun.
Ralph stood still a moment, and then stretched abroad his arms, and
with a great sob cast them round about the body of his beloved, and
strained her to his bosom as he murmured about her, THE WELL AT THE
WORLD'S END. But she wept for joy as she fawned upon him, and let her
hands beat upon his body.
But when they were somewhat calmed of their ecstasy of joy, they made
ready to go down by that rocky stair. And first they did off their
armour and other gear, and when they were naked they did on the
hallowed raiment which they had out of the ark in the House of the
Sorceress; and so clad gat them down the rock-hewn stair, Ralph going
first, lest there should be any broken place; but naught was amiss with
those hard black stones, and they came safely to a level place of the
rock, whence they could see the face of the cliff, and how the waters
of the Well came gushing forth from a hollow therein in a great
swelling wave as clear as glass; and the sun glistened in it and made a
foam-bow about its edges. But above the issue of the waters the black
rock had been smoothed by man's art, and thereon was graven the Sword
and the Bough, and above it these words, to wit:
YE WHO HAVE COME A LONG WAY TO LOOK UPON ME, DRINK OF ME, IF YE DEEM
THAT YE BE STRONG ENOUGH IN DESIRE TO BEAR LENGTH OF DAYS: OR ELSE
DRINK NOT; BUT TELL YOUR FRIENDS AND THE KINDREDS OF THE EARTH HOW YE
HAVE SEEN A GREAT MARVEL.
So they looked long and wondered; and Ursula said: "Deemest thou, my
friend, that any have come thus far and forborne to drink?"
Said Ralph: "Surely not even the exceeding wise might remember the
bitterness of his wisdom as he stood here."
Then he looked on her and his face grew bright beyond measure, and
cried out: "O love, love! why tarry we? For yet I fear lest we be come
too late, and thou die before mine eyes ere yet thou hast drunken."
"Yea," she said, "and I also fear for thee, though thy face is ruddy
and thine eyes sparkle, and thou art as lovely as the Captain of the
Lord's hosts."
Then she laughed, and her laughter was as silver bells rung tunably,
and she said: "But where is the cup for the drinking?"
But Ralph looked on the face of the wall, and about the height of his
hand saw square marks thereon, as though there were an ambrye; and
amidst the square was a knop of latten, all green with the weather and
the salt spray. So Ralph set his hand to the knop and drew strongly,
and lo it was a door made of a squared stone hung on brazen hinges, and
it opened easily to him, and within was a cup of goldsmith's work, with
the sword and the bough done thereon; and round about the rim writ this
posey: "THE STRONG OF HEART SHALL DRINK FROM ME." So Ralph took it and
held it aloft so that its pure metal flashed in the sun, and he said:
"This is for thee, Sweetling."
"Yea, and for thee," she said.
Now that level place, or bench-table went up to the very gushing and
green bow of the water, so Ralph took Ursula's hand and led her along,
she going a little after him, till he was close to the Well, and stood
amidst the spray-bow thereof, so that he looked verily like one of the
painted angels on the choir wall of St. Laurence of Upmeads. Then he
reached forth his hand and thrust the cup into the water, holding it
stoutly because the gush of the stream was strong, so that the water of
the Well splashed all over him, wetting Ursula's face and breast
withal: and he felt that the water was sweet without any saltness of
the sea. But he turned to Ursula and reached out the full cup to her,
and said: "Sweetling, call a health over the cup!"
She took it and said: "To thy life, beloved!" and drank withal, and
her eyes looked out of the cup the while, like a child's when he
drinketh. Then she gave him the cup again and said: "Drink, and tarry
not, lest thou die and I live."
Then Ralph plunged the cup into the waters again, and he held the cup
aloft, and cried out: "To the Earth, and the World of Manfolk!" and
therewith he drank.
For a minute then they clung together within the spray-bow of the Well,
and then she took his hand and led him back to the midst of the
bench-table, and he put the cup into the ambrye, and shut it up again,
and then they sat them down on the widest of the platform under the
shadow of a jutting rock; for the sun was hot; and therewithal a sweet
weariness began to steal over them, though there was speech betwixt
them for a little, and Ralph said: "How is it with thee, beloved?"
"O well indeed," she said.
Quoth he: "And how tasteth to thee the water of the Well?"
Slowly she spake and sleepily: "It tasted good, and as if thy love
were blended with it."
And she smiled in his face; but he said: "One thing I wonder over: how
shall we wot if we have drunk aright? For whereas if we were sick or
old and failing, or ill-liking, and were now presently healed of all
this, and become strong and fair to look on, then should we know it for
sure--but now, though, as I look on thee, I behold thee the fairest of
all women, and on thy face is no token of toil and travail, and the
weariness of the way; and though the heart-ache of loneliness and
captivity, and the shame of Utterbol has left no mark upon thee--yet
hast thou not always been sweet to my eyes, and as sweet as might be?
And how then?"...But he broke off and looked on her and she smiled upon
the love in his eyes, and his head fell back and he slept with a calm
and smiling face. And she leaned over him to kiss his face but even
therewith her own eyes closed and she laid her head upon his breast,
and slept as peacefully as he.
CHAPTER 22
Now They Have Drunk and Are Glad
Long they slept till the shadows were falling from the west, and the
sea was flowing fast again over the sands beneath them, though there
was still a great space bare betwixt the cliff and the sea. Then spake
Ursula as if Ralph had but just left speaking; and she said: "Yea, dear
lord, and I also say, that, lovely as thou art now, never hast thou
been aught else but lovely to me. But tell me, hast thou had any scar
of a hurt upon thy body? For if now that were gone, surely it should
be a token of the renewal of thy life. But if it be not gone, then
there may yet be another token."
Then he stood upon his feet, and she cried out: "O but thou art fair
and mighty, who now shall dare gainsay thee? Who shall not long for
thee?"
Said Ralph: "Look, love! how the sea comes over the sand like the
creeping of a sly wood-snake! Shall we go hence and turn from the
ocean-sea without wetting our bodies in its waters?"
"Let us go," she said.
So they went down on to the level sands, and along the edges of the
sweet-water stream that flowed from the Well; and Ralph said: "Beloved,
I will tell thee of that which thou hast asked me: when I was but a lad
of sixteen winters there rode men a-lifting into Upmeads, and Nicholas
Longshanks, who is a wise man of war, gathered force and went against
them, and I must needs ride beside him. Now we came to our above, and
put the thieves to the road; but in the hurly I got a claw from the
war-beast, for the stroke of a sword sheared me off somewhat from my
shoulder: belike thou hast seen the scar and loathed it."
"It is naught loathsome," she said, "for a lad to be a bold warrior,
nor for a grown man to think lightly of the memory of death drawn near
for the first time. Yea, I have noted it but let me see now what has
befallen with it."
As she spoke they were come to a salt pool in a rocky bight on their
right hand, which the tide was filling speedily; and Ralph spake: "See
now, this is the bath of the water of the ocean sea." So they were
speedily naked and playing in the water: and Ursula took Ralph by the
arm and looked to his shoulder and said: "O my lad of the pale edges,
where is gone thy glory? There is no mark of the sword's pilgrimage on
thy shoulder." "Nay, none?" quoth he.
"None, none!" she said, "Didst thou say the very sooth of thy hurt in
the battle, O poor lad of mine?" "Yea, the sooth," said he. Then she
laughed sweetly and merrily like the chuckle of a flute over the
rippling waters, that rose higher and higher about them, and she turned
her eyes askance and looked adown to her own sleek side, and laid her
hand on it and laughed again. Then said Ralph: "What is toward,
beloved? For thy laugh is rather of joy that of mirth alone."
She said: "O smooth-skinned warrior, O Lily and Rose of battle; here
on my side yesterday was the token of the hart's tyne that gored me
when I was a young maiden five years ago: look now and pity the maiden
that lay on the grass of the forest, and the woodman a-passing by
deemed her dead five years ago."
Ralph stooped down as the ripple washed away from her, then said: "In
sooth here is no mark nor blemish, but the best handiwork of God, as
when he first made a woman from the side of the Ancient Father of the
field of Damask. But lo you love, how swift the tide cometh up, and I
long to see thy feet on the green grass, and I fear the sea, lest it
stir the joy over strongly in our hearts and we be not able to escape
from its waves."
So they went up from out of the water, and did on the hallowed raiment
fragrant with strange herbs, and passed joyfully up the sand towards
the cliff and its stair; and speedily withal, for so soon as they were
clad again, the little ripple of the sea was nigh touching their feet.
As they went, they noted that the waters of the Well flowed seaward
from the black-walled pound by three arched openings in its outer face,
and they beheld the mason's work, how goodly it was; for it was as if
it had been cut out of the foot of a mountain, so well jointed were its
stones, and its walls solid against any storm that might drive against
it.
They climbed the stair, and sat them down on the green grass awhile
watching the ocean coming in over the sand and the rocks, and Ralph
said: "I will tell thee, sweetling, that I am grown eager for the road;
though true it is that whiles I was down yonder amidst the ripple of
the sea I longed for naught but thee, though thou wert beside me, and
thy joyous words were as fire to the heart of my love. But now that I
am on the green grass of the earth I called to mind a dream that came
to me when we slept after the precious draught of the Well: for
methought that I was standing before the porch of the Feast-hall of
Upmeads and holding thine hand, and the ancient House spake to me with
the voice of a man, greeting both thee and me, and praising thy
goodliness and valiancy. Surely then it is calling me to deeds, and if
it were but morning, as it is now drawing towards sunset, we would
mount and be gone straightway."
"Surely," she said, "thou hast drunk of the Well, and the fear of thee
has already entered into the hearts of thy foemen far away, even as the
love of thee constraineth me as I lie by thy side; but since it is
evening and sunset, let it be evening, and let the morning see to its
own matters. So now let us be pilgrims again, and eat the meal of
pilgrims, and see to our horses, and then wander about this lovely
wilderness and its green meads, where no son of man heedeth the wild
things, till the night come, bringing to us the rest and the sleep of
them that have prevailed over many troubles."
Even so they did, and broke bread above the sea, and looked to their
horses, and then went hand in hand about the goodly green bents betwixt
the sea and the rough of the mountain; and it was the fairest and
softest of summer evenings; and the deer of that place, both little and
great, had no fear of man, but the hart and hind came to Ursula's hand;
and the thrushes perched upon her shoulder, and the hares gambolled
together close to the feet of the twain; so that it seemed to them that
they had come into the very Garden of God; and they forgat all the many
miles of the waste and the mountain that lay before them, and they had
no thought for the strife of foemen and the thwarting of kindred, that
belike awaited them in their own land, but they thought of the love and
happiness of the hour that was passing. So sweetly they wore through
the last minutes of the day, and when it was as dark as it would be in
that fair season, they lay down by the green knoll at the ending of the
land, and were lulled to sleep by the bubbling of the Well at the
World's End.
BOOK FOUR
The Road Home
CHAPTER 1
Ralph and Ursula Come Back Again Through the Great Mountains
On the morrow morning they armed them and took to their horses and
departed from that pleasant place and climbed the mountain without
weariness, and made provision of meat and drink for the Dry Desert, and
so entered it, and journeyed happily with naught evil befalling them
till they came back to the House of the Sorceress; and of the Desert
they made little, and the wood was pleasant to them after the drought
of the Desert.
But at the said House they saw those kind people, and they saw in their
eager eyes as in a glass how they had been bettered by their drinking
of the Well, and the Elder said to them: "Dear friends, there is no
need to ask you whether ye have achieved your quest; for ye, who before
were lovely, are now become as the very Gods who rule the world. And
now methinks we have to pray you but one thing, to wit that ye will not
be overmuch of Gods, but will be kind and lowly with them that needs
must worship you."
They laughed on him for kindness' sake, and kissed and embraced the old
man, and they thanked them all for their helping, and they abode with
them for a whole day in good-will and love, and thereafter the carle,
who was the son of the Elder, with his wife, bade farewell to his
kinsmen, and led Ralph and Ursula back through the wood and over the
desert to the town of the Innocent Folk. The said Folk received them
in all joy and triumph, and would have them abide there the winter
over. But they prayed leave to depart, because their hearts were sore
for their own land and their kindred. So they abode there but two
days, and on the third day were led away by a half score of men gaily
apparelled after their manner, and having with them many sumpter-beasts
with provision for the road. With this fellowship they came safely and
with little pain unto Chestnut Vale, where they abode but one night,
though to Ralph and Ursula the place was sweet for the memory of their
loving sojourn there.
They would have taken leave of the Innocent Folk in the said vale, but
those others must needs go with them a little further, and would not
leave them till they were come to the jaws of the pass which led to the
Rock of the Fighting Man. Further than that indeed they would not, or
durst not go; and those huge mountains they called the Wall of Strife,
even as they on the other side called them the Wall of the World.
So the twain took leave of their friends there, and howbeit that they
had drunk of the Well at the World's End, yet were their hearts grieved
at the parting. The kind folk left with them abundant provision for
the remnant of the road, and a sumpter-ox to bear it; so they were in
no doubt of their livelihood. Moreover, though the turn of autumn was
come again and winter was at hand, yet the weather was fair and calm,
and their journey through the dreary pass was as light as it might be
to any men.
CHAPTER 2
They Hear New Tidings of Utterbol
It was on a fair evening of later autumn-tide that they won their way
out of the Gates of the Mountains, and came under the rock of the
Fighting Man. There they kissed and comforted each other in memory of
the terror and loneliness wherewith they had entered the Mountains that
other time; though, sooth to say, it was to them now like the reading
of sorrow in a book.
But when they came out with joyful hearts into the green plain betwixt
the mountains and the River of Lava, they looked westward, and beheld
no great way off a little bower or cot, builded of boughs and rushes by
a blackthorn copse; and as they rode toward it they saw a man come
forth therefrom, and presently saw that he was hoary, a man with a long
white beard. Then Ralph gave a glad cry, and set spurs to his horse
and galloped over the plain; for he deemed that it could be none other
than the Sage of Swevenham; and Ursula came pricking after him laughing
for joy. The old man abode their coming, and Ralph leapt off his horse
at once, and kissed and embraced him; but the Sage said: "There is no
need to ask thee of tidings; for thine eyes and thine whole body tell
me that thou hast drunk of the Well at the World's End. And that shall
be better for thee belike than it has been for me; though for me also
the world has not gone ill after my fashion since I drank of that
water."
Then was Ursula come up, and she also lighted down and made much of the
Sage. But he said: "Hail, daughter! It is sweet to see thee so, and
to wot that thou art in the hands of a mighty man: for I know that
Ralph thy man is minded for his Father's House, and the deeds that
abide him there; and I think we may journey a little way together; for
as for me, I would go back to Swevenham to end my days there, whether
they be long or short."
But Ralph said: "As for that, thou mayst go further than Swevenham,
and as far as Upmeads, where there will be as many to love and cherish
thee as at Swevenham."
The old man laughed a little, and reddened withal, but answered nothing.
Then they untrussed their sumpter-beast, and took meat and drink from
his burden, and they ate and drank together, sitting on the green grass
there; and the twain made great joy of the Sage, and told him the whole
tale; and he told them that he had been abiding there since the
spring-tide, lest they might have turned back without accomplishing
their quest, and then may-happen he should have been at hand to comfort
them, or the one of them left, if so it had befallen. "But," quoth he,
"since ye have verily drunk of the Well at the World's End, ye have
come back no later than I looked for you."
That night they slept in the bower there, and on the morrow betimes,
the Sage drove together three or four milch goats that he pastured
there, and went their ways over the plain, and so in due time entered
into the lava-sea. But the first night that they lay there, though it
was moonless and somewhat cloudy, they saw no glare of the distant
earth-fires which they had looked for; and when on the morrow they
questioned the Sage thereof, he said: "The Earth-fires ceased about the
end of last year, as I have heard tell. But sooth it is that the
foreboding of the Giant's Candle was not for naught. For there hath
verily been a change of masters at Utterbol."
"Yea," said Ralph, "for better or worse?"
Said the Sage: "It could scarce have been for worse; but if rumour
runneth right it is much for the better. Hearken how I learned
thereof. One fair even of late March, a little before I set off
hither, as I was sitting before the door of my house, I saw the glint
of steel through the wood, and presently rode up a sort of knights and
men-at-arms, about a score; and at the head of them a man on a big
red-roan horse, with his surcoat blazoned with a white bull on a green
field: he was a man black-haired, but blue-eyed; not very big, but well
knit and strong, and looked both doughty and knightly; and he wore a
gold coronet about his basnet: so not knowing his blazonry, I wondered
who it was that durst be so bold as to ride in the lands of the Lord of
Utterbol. Now he rode up to me and craved a drink of milk, for he had
seen my goats; so I milked two goats for him, and brought whey for the
others, whereas I had no more goats in milk at that season. So the
bull-knight spake to me about the woodland, and wherefore I dwelt there
apart from others; somewhat rough in his speech he was, yet rather
jolly than fierce; and he thanked me for the bever kindly enough, and
said: "I deem that it will not avail to give thee money; but I shall
give thee what may be of avail to thee. Ho, Gervaise! give me one of
those scrolls!" So a squire hands him a parchment and he gave it me,
and it was a safe-conduct to the bearer from the Lord of Utterbol; but
whereas I saw that the seal bore not the Bear on the Castle-wall, but
the Bull, and that the superscription was unknown to me, I held the
said scroll in my hand and wondered; and the knight said to me: "Yea,
look long at it; but so it is, though thou trow it not, that I am
verily Lord of Utterbol, and that by conquest; so that belike I am
mightier than he was, for that mighty runagate have I slain. And many
there be who deem that no mishap, heathen though I be. Come thou to
Utterbol and see for thyself if the days be not changed there; and thou
shalt have a belly-full of meat and drink, and honour after thy
deserving." So they rested a while, and then went their ways. To
Utterbol I went not, but ere I departed to come hither two or three
carles strayed my way, as whiles they will, who told me that this which
the knight had said was naught but the sooth, and that great was the
change of days at Utterbol, whereas all men there, both bond and free,
were as merry as they deserved to be, or belike merrier."
Ralph pondered this tale, and was not so sure but that this new lord
was not Bull Shockhead, his wartaken thrall; natheless he held his
peace; but Ursula said: "I marvel not much at the tale, for sure I am,
that had Gandolf of the Bear been slain when I was at Utterbol, neither
man nor woman had stirred a finger to avenge him. But all feared him,
I scarce know why; and, moreover, there was none to be master if he
were gone."
Thereafter she told more tales of the miseries of Utterbol than Ralph
had yet heard, as though this tale of the end of that evil rule had set
her free to utter them; and they fell to talking of others matters.
CHAPTER 3
They Winter With the Sage; and Thereafter Come Again to Vale Turris
Thus with no peril and little pain they came to the Sage's hermitage;
and whereas the autumn was now wearing, and it was not to be looked for
that they should cross even the mountains west of Goldburg, let alone
those to the west of Cheaping Knowe, when winter had once set in, Ralph
and Ursula took the Sage's bidding to abide the winter through with
him, and set forth on their journey again when spring should be fairly
come and the mountain ways be clear of snow.
So they dwelt there happily enough; for they helped the Sage in his
husbandry, and he enforced him to make them cheer, and read in the
ancient book to them, and learned them as much as it behoved them to
hearken; and told them tales of past time.
Thereafter when May was at hand they set out on their road, and whereas
the Sage knew the wood well, he made a long story short by bringing
them to Vale Turris in four days' time. But when they rode down into
the dale, they saw the plain meads below the Tower all bright with
tents and booths, and much folk moving about amidst them; here and
there amidst the roofs of cloth withal was showing the half finished
frame of a timber house a-building. But now as they looked and wondered
what might be toward, a half score of weaponed men rode up to them and
bade them, but courteously, to come with them to see their Lord. The
Sage drew forth his let-pass thereat; but the leader of the riders
said, as he shook his head: "That is good for thee, father; but these
two knights must needs give an account of themselves: for my lord is
minded to put down all lifting throughout his lands; therefore hath he
made the meshes of his net small. But if these be thy friends it will
be well. Therefore thou art free to come with them and bear witness to
their good life."
Here it must be said that since they were on the road again Ursula had
donned her wargear once more, and as she rode was to all men's eyes
naught but a young and slender knight.
So without more ado they followed those men-at-arms, and saw how the
banner of the Bull was now hung out from the Tower; and the sergeants
brought them into the midst of the vale, where, about those tents and
those half-finished frame-houses (whereof they saw six) was a market
toward and much concourse of folk. But the sergeants led through them
and the lanes of the booths down to the side of the river, where on a
green knoll, with some dozen of men-at-arms and captains about him, sat
the new Lord of Utterbol.
Now as the others drew away from him to right and left, the Lord sat
before Ralph with naught to hide him, and when their eyes met Ralph
gave a cry as one astonished; and the Lord of Utterbol rose up to his
feet and shouted, and then fell a laughing joyously, and then cried
out: "Welcome, King's Son, and look on me! for though the feathers be
fine 'tis the same bird. I am Lord of Utterbol and therewithal Bull
Shockhead, whose might was less than thine on the bent of the mountain
valley."
Therewith he caught hold of Ralph's hand, and sat himself down and drew
Ralph down, and made him sit beside him.
"Thou seest I am become great?" said he. "Yea," said Ralph, "I give
thee joy thereof!" Said the new Lord: "Perchance thou wilt be deeming
that since I was once thy war-taken thrall I should give myself up to
thee: but I tell thee I will not: for I have much to do here.
Moreover I did not run away from thee, but thou rannest from me, lad."
Thereat in his turn Ralph fell a laughing, and when he might speak he
said: "What needeth the lord of all these spears to beg off his service
to the poor wandering knight?"
Then Bull put his arms about him, and said: "I am fain at the sight of
thee, time was thou wert a kind lad and a good master; yet naught so
merry as thou shouldest have been; but now I see that gladness plays
all about thy face, and sparkles in thine eyes; and that is good. But
these thy fellows? I have seen the old carle before: he was dwelling
in the wildwood because he was overwise to live with other folk. But
this young man, who may he be? Or else--yea, verily, it is a young
woman. Yea, and now I deem that it is the thrall of my brother Bull
Nosy. Therefore by heritage she is now mine."
Ralph heard the words but saw not the smiling face, so wroth he was;
therefore the bare sword was in his fist in a twinkling. But ere he
could smite Bull caught hold of his wrist, and said: "Master, master,
thou art but a sorry lawyer, or thou wouldst have said: 'Thou art my
thrall, and how shall a thrall have heritage?' Dost thou not see that I
cannot own her till I be free, and that thou wilt not give me my
freedom save for hers? There, now is all the matter of the service
duly settled, and I am free and a Lord. And this damsel is free also,
and--yea, is she not thy well-beloved, King's Son?"
Ralph was somewhat abashed, and said: "I crave thy pardon, Lord, for
misdoubting thee: but think how feeble are we two lovers amongst the
hosts of the aliens."
"It is well, it is well," said Bull, "and in very sooth I deem thee my
friend; and this damsel was my brother's friend. Sit down, dear
maiden, I bid thee; and thou also, O man overwise; and let us drink a
cup, and then we will talk about what we may do for each other."
So they sat down all on the grass, and the Lord of Utterbol called for
wine, and they drank together in the merry season of May; and the new
Lord said: "Here be we friends come together, and it were pity of our
lives if we must needs sunder speedily: howbeit, it is thou must rule
herein, King's Son; for in my eyes thou art still greater than I, O my
master. For I can see in thine eyes and thy gait, and in thine also,
maiden, that ye have drunk of the Well at the World's End. Therefore I
pray you gently and heartily that ye come home with me to Utterbol."
Ralph shook his head, and answered: "Lord of Utterbol, I bid thee all
thanks for thy friendliness, but it may not be."
"But take note," said Bull, "that all is changed there, and it hath
become a merry dwelling of men. We have cast down the Red Pillar, and
the White and the Black also; and it is no longer a place of torment
and fear, and cozening and murder; but the very thralls are happy and
free-spoken. Now come ye, if it were but for a moon's wearing: I shall
be there in eight days' time. Yea, Lord Ralph, thou would'st see old
acquaintance there withal: for when I slew the tyrant, who forsooth
owed me no less than his life for the murder of my brother, I made
atonement to his widow, and wedded her: a fair woman as thou wottest,
lord, and of good kindred, and of no ill conditions, as is well seen
now that she lives happy days. Though I have heard say that while she
was under the tyrant she was somewhat rough with her women when she was
sad. Eh, fair sir! but is it not so that she cast sheep's eyes on
thee, time was, in this same dale?"
Ralph reddened and answered naught; and Bull spake again, laughing:
"Yea, so it is: she told me that much herself, and afterwards I heard
more from her damsel Agatha, who told me the merry tale of that device
they made to catch thee, and how thou brakest through the net.
Forsooth, though this she told me not, I deem that she would have had
the same gift of thee as her mistress would. Well, lad, lucky are they
with whom all women are in love. So now I prithee trust so much in thy
luck as to come with me to Utterbol."
Quoth Ralph: "Once again, Lord of Utterbol, we thank thee; but whereas
thou hast said that thou hast much to do in this land; even so I have a
land where deeds await me. For I stole myself away from my father and
mother, and who knows what help they need of me against foemen, and
evil days; and now I might give help to them were I once at home, and
to the people of the land also, who are a stout-hearted and valiant and
kindly folk."
The new Lord's face clouded somewhat, as he said: "If thine heart
draweth thee to thy kindred, there is no more to say. As for me, what
I did was for kindred's sake, and then what followed after was the work
of need. Well, let it be! But since we must needs part hastily, this
at least I bid you, that ye abide with me for to-night, and the banquet
in the great pavilion. Howsoever ye may be busied, gainsay me not
this; and to-morrow I shall further you on your way, and give you a
score of spears to follow thee to Goldburg. Then as for Goldburg and
Cheaping Knowe, see ye to it yourselves: but beyond Cheaping Knowe and
the plain country, thy name is known, and the likeness of thee told in
words; and no man in those mountains shall hurt or hinder thee, but all
thou meetest shall aid and further thee. Moreover, at the feast
to-night thou shalt see thy friend Otter, and he and I betwixt us shall
tell thee how I came to Utterbol, and of the change of days, and how it
betid. For he is now my right-hand man, as he was of the dead man.
Forsooth, after the slaying I would have had him take the lordship of
Utterbol, but he would not, so I must take it perforce or be slain, and
let a new master reign there little better than the old. Well then,
how sayest thou? Or wilt thou run from me without leave-taking, as
thou didst ere-while at Goldburg?"
Ralph laughed at his word, and said that he would not be so churlish
this time, but would take his bidding with a good heart; and thereafter
they fell to talking of many things. But Ralph took note of Bull, that
now his hair and beard were trim and his raiment goodly, for all his
rough speech and his laughter and heart-whole gibes and mocking, his
aspect and bearing was noble and knightly.
CHAPTER 4
A Feast in the Red Pavilion
So in a while they went with him to the Tower, and there was woman's
raiment of the best gotten for Ursula, and afterwards at nightfall they
went to the feast in the Red Pavillion of Utterbol, which awhile ago
the now-slain Lord of Utterbol had let make; and it was exceeding rich
with broidery of pearl and gems: since forsooth gems and fair women
were what the late lord had lusted for the most, and have them he would
at the price of howsoever many tears and groans. But that pavilion was
yet in all wise as it was wont to be, saving that the Bull had
supplanted the Bear upon the Castle-wall.
Now the wayfarers were treated with all honour and were set upon the
high-seat, Ralph upon the right-hand of the Lord, and Ursula upon his
left, and the Sage of Swevenham out from her. But on Ralph's right
hand was at first a void place, whereto after a while came Otter, the
old Captain of the Guard. He came in hastily, and as though he had but
just taken his armour off: for his raiment was but such as the
men-at-arm of that country were wont to wear under their war-gear, and
was somewhat stained and worn; whereas the other knights and lords were
arrayed grandly in silks and fine cloth embroidered and begemmed.
Otter was fain when he saw Ralph, and kissed and embraced him, and
said: "Forsooth, I saw by thy face, lad, that the world would be soft
before thee; and now that I behold thee I know already that thou hast
won thy quest; and the Gods only know to what honour thou shalt attain."
Ralph laughed for joy of him, and yet said soberly: "As to honour,
meseems I covet little world's goods, save that it may be well with my
folk at home." Nevertheless as the words were out of his mouth his
thought went back to the tall man whom he had first met at the
churchyard gate of Netherton, and it seemed to him that he wished his
thriving, yea, and in a lesser way, he wished the same to Roger of the
Rope-walk, whereas he deemed that both of these, each in his own way,
had been true to the lady whom he had lost.
Then Otter fell a-talking to him of the change of days at Utterbol, and
how that it was the Lord's intent that a cheaping town should grow up
in the Dale of the Tower, and that the wilderness beyond it should be
tilled and builded. "And," said he, "if this be done, and the new lord
live to see it, as he may, being but young of years, he may become
exceedingly mighty, and if he hold on in the way whereas he now is, he
shall be well-beloved also."
So they spake of many things, and there was minstrelsy and diverse
joyance, till at last the Lord of Utterbol stood up and said: "Now
bring in the Bull, that we may speak some words over him; for this is a
great feast." Ralph wondered what bull this might be whereof he spake;
but the harps and fiddlers, and all instruments of music struck up a
gay and gallant tune, and presently there came into the hall four men
richly attired, who held up on spears a canopy of bawdekin, under which
went a man-at-arms helmed, and clad in bright armour, who held in his
hands a great golden cup fashioned like to a bull, and he bore it forth
unto the dais, and gave it into the hands of the Lord. Then
straightway all the noise ceased, and the glee and clatter of the hall,
and there was dead silence. Then the Lord held the cup aloft and said
in a loud voice:
"Hail, all ye folk! I swear by the Bull, and they that made him, that
in three years' time or less I will have purged all the lands of
Utterbol of all strong-thieves and cruel tyrants, be they big or
little, till all be peace betwixt the mountains and the mark of
Goldburg; and the wilderness shall blossom like the rose. Or else
shall I die in the pain."
Therewith he drank of the cup, and all men shouted. Then he sat him
down and bade hand the cup to Otter; and Otter took the cup and looked
into the bowl and saw the wave of wine, and laughed and cried out: "As
for me, what shall I swear but that I will follow the Bull through
thick and thin, through peace and unpeace, through grief and joy. This
is my oath-swearing."
And he drank mightily and sat down.
Then turned the Lord to Ralph and said: "And thou who art my master,
wilt thou not tell thy friends and the Gods what thou wilt do?"
"No great matter, belike," said Ralph; "but if ye will it, I will speak
out my mind thereon."
"We will it," said the Lord.
Then Ralph arose and took the cup and lifted it and spake: "This I
swear, that I will go home to my kindred, yet on the road will I not
gainsay help to any that craveth it. So may all Hallows help me!"
Therewith he drank: and Bull said: "This is well said, O happy man!
But now that men have drunk well, do ye three and Otter come with me
into the Tower, whereas the chambers are dight for you, that I may make
the most of this good day wherein I have met thee again."
So they went with him, and when they had sat down in the goodliest
chamber of the Tower, and they had been served with wine and spices,
the new Lord said to Ralph: "And now, my master, wilt thou not ask
somewhat concerning me?" "Yea," said Ralph, "I will ask thee to tell
the tale of how thou camest into thy Lordship." Said the Lord, "This
shall ye hear of me with Otter to help me out. Hearken!"
CHAPTER 5
Bull Telleth of His Winning of the Lordship of Utterbol
"When thou rannest away from me, and left me alone at Goldburg, I was
grieved; then Clement Chapman offered to take me back with him to his
own country, which, he did me to wit, lieth hard by thine: but I would
not go with him, since I had an inkling that I should find the slayer
of my brother and be avenged on him. So the Chapmen departed from
Goldburg after that Clement had dealt generously by me for thy sake;
and when they were gone I bethought me what to do, and thou knowest I
can some skill with the fiddle and song, so I betook myself to that
craft, both to earn somewhat and that I might gather tidings and be
little heeded, till within awhile folk got to know me well, and would
often send for me to their merry-makings, where they gave me fiddler's
wages, to wit, meat, drink, and money. So what with one thing what
with another I was rich enough to leave Goldburg and fall to my journey
unto Utterbol; since I misdoubted me from the first that the caytiff
who had slain my brother was the Lord thereof.
"But one day when I went into the market-place I found a great stir and
clutter there; some folk, both men and women screeching and fleeing,
and some running to bows and other weapons. So I caught hold of one of
the fleers, and asked him what was toward; and he cried out, 'Loose me!
let me go! he is loose, he is loose!'
"'Who is loose, fool?' quoth I. 'The lion,' said he, and therewith in
the extremity of his terror tore himself away from me and fled. By
this time the others also had got some distance away from me, and I was
left pretty much alone. So I went forth on a little, looking about me,
and sure enough under one of the pillars of the cloister beneath the
market-house (the great green pillar, if thou mindest it), lay crouched
a huge yellow lion, on the carcase of a goat, which he had knocked
down, but would not fall to eating of amidst all that cry and hubbub.
"Now belike one thing of me thou wottest not, to wit, that I have a
gift that wild things love and will do my bidding. The house-mice will
run over me as I lie awake looking on them; the small birds will perch
on my shoulders without fear; the squirrels and hares will gambol about
quite close to me as if I were but a tree; and, withal, the fiercest
hound or mastiff is tame before me. Therefore I feared not this lion,
and, moreover, I looked to it that if I might tame him thoroughly, he
would both help me to live as a jongleur, and would be a sure ward to
me.
"So I walked up towards him quietly, till he saw me and half rose up
growling; but I went on still, and said to him in a peaceable voice:
'How now, yellow mane! what aileth thee? down with thee, and eat thy
meat.' So he sat down to his quarry again, but growled still, and I
went up close to him, and said to him: 'Eat in peace and safety, am I
not here?' And therewith I held out my bare hand unclenched to him, and
he smelt to it, and straightway began to be peaceable, and fell to
tearing the goat, and devouring it, while I stood by speaking to him
friendly.
"But presently I saw weapons glitter on the other side of the square
place, and men with bended bows. The yellow king saw them also, and
rose up again and stood growling; then I strove to quiet him, and said,
'These shall not harm thee.'
"Therewith the men cried out to me to come away, for they would shoot:
But I called out; 'Shoot not yet! but tell me, does any man own this
beast?' 'Yea,' said one, 'I own him, and happy am I that he doth not
own me.' Said I, 'Wilt thou sell him?' 'Yea' said he, 'if thou livest
another hour to tell down the money.' Said I, 'I am a tamer of wild
beasts, and if thou wilt sell this one at such a price, I will rid thee
of him.' The man yeasaid this, but kept well aloof with his fellows,
who looked on, handling their weapons.
"Then I turned to my new-bought thrall and bade him come with me, and
he followed me like a dog to his cage, which was hard by; and I shut
him in there, and laid down the money to his owner; and folk came round
about, and wondered, and praised me. But I said: 'My masters, have ye
naught of gifts for the tamer of beasts, and the deliverer of men?'
Thereat they laughed: but they brought me money and other goods, till I
had gotten far more than I had given for the lion.
"Howbeit the next day the officers of the Porte came and bade me avoid
the town of Goldburg, but gave me more money withal. I was not loth
thereto, but departed, riding a little horse that I had, and leading my
lion by a chain, though when I was by he needed little chaining.
"So that without more ado I took the road to Utterbol, and wheresoever
I came, I had what was to be had that I would; neither did any man fall
on me, or on my lion. For though they might have shot him or slain him
with many spear-thrusts, yet besides that they feared him sorely, they
feared me still more; deeming me some mighty sending from their Gods.
"Thus came I to Utterness, and found it poor and wretched, (as
forsooth, it yet is, but shall not be so for long). But the House of
Utterbol is exceeding fair and stately (as thou mightest have learned
from others, my master,) and its gardens, and orchards, and acres, and
meadows as goodly as may be. Yea, a very paradise; yet the dwellers
therein as if it were hell, as I saw openly with mine own eyes.
"To be short, the fame of me and my beast had somehow gone before me,
and when I came to the House, I was dealt with fairly, and had good
entertainment: and this all the more, as the Lord was away for a while,
and the life of folk not so hard by a great way as it had been if he
had been there: but the Lady was there in the house, and on the morrow
of my coming by her command, I brought my lion before her window and
made him come and go, and fetch and carry at my bidding, and when I had
done my play she bade me up into her bower, and bade me sit and had me
served with wine, while she asked me many questions as to my country
and friends, and whence and whither I was; and I answered her with the
very sooth, so far as the sooth was handy; and there was with her but
one of her women, even thy friend Agatha, fair sir.
"Methought both that this Queen was a fair woman, and that she looked
kindly upon me, and at last she said, sighing, that she were well at
ease if her baron were even such a man as I, whereas the said Lord was
fierce and cruel, and yet a dastard withal. But the said Agatha turned
on her, and chided her, as one might with a child, and said: 'Hold thy
peace of thy loves and thy hates before a very stranger! Or must I
leave yet more of my blood on the pavement of the White Pillar, for the
pleasure of thy loose tongue? Come out now, mountain-carle!'
"And she took me by the hand and led me out, and when we had passed the
door and it was shut, she turned to me and said: 'Thou, if I hear any
word abroad of what my Lady has just spoken, I shall know that thou
hast told it, and though I be but a thrall, yea, and of late a
mishandled one, yet am I of might enough in Utterbol to compass thy
destruction.'
"I laughed in her face and went my ways: and thereafter I saw many
folk and showed them my beast, and soon learned two things clearly.
"And first that the Lord and the Lady were now utterly at variance.
For a little before he had come home, and found a lack in his
household--to wit, how a certain fair woman whom he had but just got
hold of, and whom he lusted after sorely, was fled away. And he laid
the wyte thereof on his Lady, and threatened her with death: and when
he considered that he durst not slay her, or torment her (for he was
verily but a dastard), he made thy friend Agatha pay for her under
pretence of wringing a true tale out of her.
"Now when I heard this story I said to myself that I should hear that
other one of the slaying of my brother, and even so it befell. For I
came across a man who told me when and how the Lord came by the said
damsel (whom I knew at once could be none other than thou, Lady,) and
how he had slain my brother to get her, even as doubtless thou knowest,
Lord Ralph.
"But the second thing which I learned was that all folk at Utterbol,
men and women, dreaded the home-coming of this tyrant; and that there
was no man but would have deemed it a good deed to slay him. But,
dastard as he was, use and wont, and the fear that withholdeth rebels,
and the doubt that draweth back slaves, saved him; and they dreaded him
moreover as a devil rather than a man. Forsooth one of the men there,
who looked upon me friendly, who had had tidings of this evil beast
drawing near, spake to me a word of warning, and said: 'Friend
lion-master, take heed to thyself! For I fear for thee when the Lord
cometh home and findeth thee here; lest he let poison thy lion and slay
thee miserably afterward.'
"Well, in three days from that word home cometh the Lord with a rout of
his spearmen, and some dozen of captives, whom he had taken. And the
morrow of his coming, he, having heard of me, sent and bade me showing
the wonder of the Man and the Lion; therefore in the bright morning I
played with the lion under his window as I had done by the Queen. And
after I had played some while, and he looking out of the window, he
called to me and said: 'Canst thou lull thy lion to sleep, so that
thou mayst leave him for a little? For I would fain have thee up here.'
"I yeasaid that, and chid the beast, and then sang to him till he lay
down and slept like a hound weary with hunting. And then I went up
into the Lord's chamber; and as it happed, all the while of my playing
I had had my short-sword naked in my hand, and thus, I deem without
noting it, yet as weird would, I came before the tyrant, where he sat
with none anigh him save this Otter and another man-at-arms. But when I
saw him, all the blood within me that was come of one mother with my
brother's blood stirred within me, and I set my foot on the foot-pace
of this murderer's chair, and hove up my short-sword, and clave his
skull, in front and with mine own hand: not as he wrought, not as he
wrought with my brother.
"Then I turned about to Otter (who had his sword in his fist when it
was too late) till he should speak. Hah Otter, what didst thou say?"
Otter laughed: Quoth he, "I said: thus endeth the worst man in the
world. Well done, lion-tamer! thou art no ill guest, and hast paid on
the nail for meat, drink and lodging. But what shall we do now? Then
thou saidst; 'Well, I suppose thou wilt be for slaying me.' 'Nay,' said
I, 'We will not slay thee; at least not for this, nor now, nor without
terms.' Thou saidst: 'Perchance then thou wilt let me go free, since
this man was ill-beloved: yea, and he owed me a life.' 'Nay, nay,' said
I, 'not so fast, good beast-lord.' 'Why not?' saidst thou, 'I can see
of thee that thou art a valiant man, and whereas thou hast been captain
of the host, and the men-at-arms will lightly do thy bidding, why
shouldest thou not sit in the place of this man, and be Lord of
Utterbol?'
"'Nay nay,' said I, 'it will not do, hearken thou rather: For here I
give thee the choice of two things, either that thou be Lord of
Utterbol, or that we slay thee here and now. For we be two men
all-armed.'
"Thou didst seem to ponder it a while, and then saidst at last: 'Well,
I set not out on this journey with any such-like intent; yet will I not
wrestle with weird. Only I forewarn thee that I shall change the days
of Utterbol.'
"'It will not be for the worst then,' quoth I. 'So now go wake up thy
lion, and lead him away to his den: and we will presently send him
this carrion for a reward of his jonglery.' 'Gramercy, butcher,' saidst
thou, 'I am not for thy flesh-meat to-day. I was forewarned that the
poor beast should be poisoned at this man's home-coming, and so will he
be if he eat of this dastard; he will not outlive such a dinner.'
Thereat we all laughed heartily."
"Yea," said Bull, "So I went to lead away the lion when thou hadst
bidden me return in an hours' wearing, when all should be ready for my
Lordship. And thou wert not worse than thy word, for when I came into
that court again, there were all the men-at-arms assembled, and the
free carles, and the thralls; and the men-at-arms raised me on a
shield, set a crowned helm on my head, and thrust a great sword into my
hand, and hailed me by the name of the Bull of Utterbol, Lord of the
Waste and the Wildwood, and the Mountain-side: and then thou, Otter,
wert so simple as to kneel before me and name thyself my man, and take
the girding on of sword at my hand. Then even as I was I went in to my
Lady and told her the end of my tale, and in three minutes she lay in
my arms, and in three days in my bed as my wedded wife. As to Agatha,
when I had a little jeered her, I gave her rich gifts and good lands,
and freedom, to boot her for her many stripes. And lo there, King's
Son and Sweet Lady, the end of all my tale."
"Yea," quoth Otter, "saving this, that even already thou has raised up
Utterbol from Hell to Earth, and yet meseemeth thou hast good-will to
raise it higher."
Bull reddened at his word, and said: "Tush, man! praise the day when
the sun has set." Then he turned to Ralph, and said: "Yet couldst thou
at whiles put in a good word for me here and there amongst the folks
that thou shalt pass through on thy ways home, I were fain to know that
I had a well-speaking friend abroad." "We shall do no less," said
Ralph; and Ursula spake in like wise.
So they talked together merrily a while longer, till night began to
grow old, and then went to their chambers in all content and
good-liking.
CHAPTER 6
They Ride From Vale Turris. Redhead Tells of Agatha
On the morrow when they arose, Ralph heard the sound of horses and the
clashing of arms: he went to the window, and looked out, and saw how
the spears stood up thick together at the Tower's foot, and knew that
these were the men who were to be his fellows by the way. Their
captain he saw, a big man all-armed in steel, but himseemed that he
knew his face under his sallet, and presently saw that it was Redhead.
He was glad thereof, and clad himself hastily, and went out a-doors,
and went up to him and hailed him, and Redhead leapt off his horse, and
cast his arms about Ralph, and made much of him, and said: "It is good
for sore eyes to see thee, lord; and I am glad at heart that all went
well with thee that time. Although, forsooth, there was guile behind
it. Yet whereas I wotted nothing thereof, which I will pray thee to
believe, and whereas thou hast the gain of all, I deem thou mayst
pardon me."
Said Ralph: "Thou hast what pardon of me thou needest; so be content.
For the rest, little need is there to ask if thou thrivest, for I
behold thee glad and well honoured."
As they spoke came the Lord forth from the Tower, and said: "Come thou,
Lord Ralph, and eat with us ere thou takest to the road; I mean with
Otter and me. As for thee, Redhead, if aught of ill befall this King's
Son under thy way-leading, look to it that thou shalt lose my good word
with Agatha; yea, or gain my naysay herein; whereby thou shalt miss
both fee and fair dame."
Redhead looked sheepishly on Ralph at that word, yet winked at him
also, as if it pleased him to be jeered concerning his wooing; so that
Ralph saw how the land lay, and that the guileful handmaid was not ill
content with that big man. So he smiled kindly on him and nodded, and
went back with Bull into the Tower. There they sat down all to meat
together; and when they were done with their victual, Bull spake, and
said to Ralph: "Fair King's Son, is this then the last sight of thee?
wilt thou never come over the mountains again?" Said Ralph: "Who
knoweth? I am young yet, and have drunk of the Water of the Well."
Bull grew somewhat pensive and said: "Yea, thou meanest that thou
mayest come back and find me no longer here. Yet if thou findest but
my grave-mound, yet mayhappen thou shalt come on something said or sung
of me, which shall please thee. For I will tell thee, that thou hast
changed my conditions; how, I wot not."
"Thy word is good," said Ralph, "yet I meant not that; never should I
come to Utterbol if I looked not to find thee living there." Bull
smiled on him as though he loved him, and said: "This is well spoken; I
shall look to see thee before I die."
Then said Ursula: "Lord of Utterbol, this also thou mayst think on,
that it is no further from Utterbol to Upmeads than from Upmeads to
Utterbol." The Lord laughed and said: "Sooth is that; and were but my
Bull here, as I behold you I should be of mind to swear by him to come
and see you at Upmeads ere ten years have worn."
Then she put forth her hand and said: "Swear by this!" So he took it
and swore the oath; but the Sage of Swevenham said: "This oath thou
shalt keep to the gain and not the loss both of thee and of thy friends
of Upmeads."
Thus were they fain of each other, and Ralph saw how Bull's heart was
grown big, and he rejoiced thereat. But anon he arose and said: "Now,
Lord, we ask leave to depart for the way is long, and mayhappen my
kindred now lack a man's helping." Then Bull stood up and called for
his horse, and Otter also, and they all went forth and gat a-horseback
and rode away from Vale Turris, and Redhead rode behind them humbly,
till it was noon and they made stay for meat. Then after they had
broken bread together and drunk a cup Bull and Otter kissed the
wayfarers, and bade them farewell and so rode back to Vale Turris, and
Ralph and Ursula and the Sage tarried not but rode on their ways.
But anon Ralph called to Redhead, and bade him ride beside them that
they might talk together, and he came up with them, and Ursula greeted
him kindly, and they were merry one with another. And Ralph said to
Redhead: "Friend captain, thou art exceeding in humility not to ride
with the Lord or Captain Otter; save for chance-hap, I see not that
thou art worser than they."
Redhead grinned, and said: "Well, as to Otter, that is all true; but
as for Lord Bull it is another matter; I wot not but his kindred may be
as good or better than any in these east parts. In any case, he hath
his kin and long descent full often in his mouth, while I am but a
gangrel body. Howbeit it is all one, whereas whatso he or Otter bid
any man to do, he doeth it, but my bidding may be questioned at whiles.
And look you, lord, times are not ill, so wherefore should I risk a
change of days? Sooth to say, both these great lords have done well by
me."
Ralph laughed: "And better will they do, as thou deemest; give thee
Agatha, to wit?" "Yea, fair sir," quoth Redhead. "No great gift, that
seemeth to me, for thy valiancy," said Ralph; "she is guileful enough
and loose enough for a worse man than thee."
"Lord," said Redhead, "even of her thou shalt say what pleaseth thee;
but no other man shall say of her what pleaseth me not. For all that
is come and gone she is true and valiant, and none may say that she is
not fair and sweet enough for a better man than me; and my great good
luck it is that, as I hope, she looketh no further for a better."
Ursula said: "Is it so, perchance, that now she is free and hath
naught to fear, she hath no need for guile?" "Hail to thee for thy
word, lady," quoth Redhead; and then he was silent, glooming somewhat
on Ralph.
But Ralph said: "Nay, my friend, I meant no harm, but I was wondering
what had befallen to bring you two so close together."
"It was fear and pain, and the helping of each other that wrought it,"
said Redhead. Said Ursula: "Good Captain, how was it that she escaped
the uttermost of evil at the tyrant's hands? since from all that I have
heard, it must needs be that he laid the blame on her (working for her
mistress) of my flight from Utterbol."
"Even so it was, lady," said Redhead; "but, as thou wottest belike, she
had got it spread abroad that she was cunning in sorcery, and that her
spell would not end when her life ended; nay, that he to whom her ghost
should bear ill-will, and more especially such an one as might compass
her death, should have but an ill time of it while he lived, which
should not be long. This tale, which, sooth to say, I myself helped to
spread, the Lord of Utterbol trowed in wholly, so cunningly was it
told; so that, to make a long story short, he feared her, and feared
her more dead than living. So that when he came home, and found thee
gone, lady, he did indeed deem that thy flight was of Agatha's
contrivance. And this the more because his nephew (he whom thou didst
beguile; I partly guess how) told him a made-up tale how all was done
by the spells of Agatha. For this youth was of all men, not even
saving his uncle, most full of malice; and he hated Agatha, and would
have had her suffer the uttermost of torments and he to be standing by
the while; howbeit his malice overshot itself, since his tale made her
even more of a witch than the lord deemed before."
"Yea," said Ursula, "and what hath befallen that evil young man,
Captain?" Said Redhead: "It is not known to many, lady; but two days
before the slaying of his uncle, I met him in a wood a little way from
Utterbol, and, the mood being on me I tied him neck and heels and cast
him, with a stone round his neck, into a deep woodland pool hight the
Ram's Bane, which is in that same wood. Well, as to my tale of Agatha.
When the lord came home first, he sent for her, and his rage had so
mastered his fear for a while that his best word was scourge and rack
and faggot; but she was, outwardly, so calm and cold, smiling on him
balefully, that he presently came to himself, and found that fear was in
his belly, and that he might not do what he would with her; wherefore
he looked to it that however she were used (which was ill enough, God
wot!) she should keep the soul in her body. And at last the fear so
mounted into his head that he made peace with her, and even craved
forgiveness of her and gave her gifts. She answered him sweetly
indeed, yet so as he (and all others who were bystanding, of whom I was
one,) might well see that she deemed she owed him a day in harvest. As
for me, he heeded me naught, and I lay low all I might. And in any
wise we wore the time till the great day of deliverance."
Therewith dropped the talk about Agatha, when they had bidden him all
luck in his life. Forsooth, they were fain of his words, and of his
ways withal. For he was a valiant man, and brisk, and one who forgat
no benefit, and was trusty as steel; merry-hearted withal, and kind and
ready of speech despite his uplandish manners, which a life not a
little rude had thrust on him.
CHAPTER 7
Of Their Riding the Waste, and of a Battle Thereon
They slept in no house that night nor for many nights after; for they
were now fairly on the waste. They bore with them a light tent for
Ursula's lodging benights, and the rest of them slept on the field as
they might; or should they come to a thicket or shaw, they would lodge
them there softly. Victual and drink failed them not, for they bore
what they needed on sumpter-horses, and shot some venison on the way
withal. They saw but few folk; for the most part naught save a fowler
of the waste, or a peat-cutter, who stood to look on the men-at-arms
going by, and made obeisance to the token of Utterbol.
But on a time, the fifth day of their journey, they saw, in the
morning, spears not a few standing up against a thicket-side in the
offing. Redhead looked under the sharp of his hand, and laughed as
though he were glad, and said: "I know not clearly what these may be,
but it looketh like war. Now, knight, this is best to do: hold with
thee three of our best men, so that ye may safe guard the Lady, and I
with the others will prick on and look into this."
"Nay," said Ralph, "thou mayst yet be apaid of a man's aid; and if
there be strokes on sale in the cheaping-stead yonder, I will deal
along with thee. Leave thy three men with the Lady, and let us on; we
shall soon be back."
"Nay once more, dear lord," quoth Ursula, "I fear to be left alone of
thee, and it is meet that thou free me from fear. I will ride with
you, but three horse-lengths behind, so as not to hinder you. I have
been worse bestead than this shall be."
"It is good," quoth Redhead, "let her ride with us: for why should she
suffer the pain of fear in the lonely waste? But let her do on a
hauberk over her coats, and steel coif over her head, for shaft and
bolt will ofttimes go astray."
Even so they did, and rode forward, and presently they saw the spearmen
that they were somewhat more than their company, and that they were
well mounted on black horses and clad in black armour. Then they drew
rein for awhile and Redhead scanned them again and said: "Yea, these
are the men of the brother of thy hot wooer, Lady Ursula, whom I cooled
in the Ram's Bane, but a man well nigh as old as his uncle, though he
hath not made men tremble so sore, albeit he be far the better man, a
good warrior, a wise leader, a reiver and lifter well wrought at all
points. Well, 'tis not unlike that we shall have to speak to his men
again, either out-going or home-coming: so we had best kill as many of
these as we may now. Do on thy sallet, my lord; and thou,
Michael-a-green shake out the Bull; and thou, our Noise, blow a point
of war that they may be warned. God to aid! but they be ready and
speedy!"
In sooth even as the pennon of the Bull ran down the wind and the
Utterbol horn was winded, the Black men-at-arms came on at a trot, and
presently with a great screeching yell cast their spears into the rest,
and spurred on all they might, while a half score of bowmen who had
come out of the thicket bent their bows and fell a-shooting. But now
the men of Utterbol spurred to meet the foe, and as Redhead cast his
spear into the rest, he said to Ralph: "Glad am I that thy Lady is
anear to see me, for now I worship her."
Therewith the two bands met, and whereas on neither side was the armour
very stout, some men of either band were hurt or slain at once with
spearthrust; though, save for Ralph, they did not run straight on each
other; but fenced and foined with their spears deftly enough. As for
Ralph, he smote a tall man full on the breast and pierced him through
and through, and then pulled out the Upmeads blade and smote on the
right hand and the left, so that none came anigh him willingly.
Shortly to say it, in five minutes' time the Black Riders were fleeing
all over the field with them of Utterbol at their heels, and the bowmen
ran back again into the wood. But one of the foemen as he fled cast a
javelin at a venture, and who should be before it save Ursula, so that
she reeled in her saddle, and would have fallen downright but for one
of the Utterbol fellows who stayed her, and got her gently off her
horse. This Ralph saw not, for he followed far in the chase, and was
coming back somewhat slowly along with Redhead, who was hurt, but not
sorely. So when he came up, and saw Ursula sitting on the grass with
four or five men about her, he sickened for fear; but she rose up and
came slowly and pale-faced to meet him, and said: "Fear not, beloved,
for steel kept out steel: I have no scratch or point or edge on me."
So therewith he kissed her, and embraced her, and was glad.
The Utterbol Riders had slain sixteen of their foemen; for they took
none to mercy, and four of their band were slain outright, and six
hurt, but not grievously. So they tarried awhile on the field of deed
to rest them and tend their wounded men, and so rode on again heedfully.
But Redhead spake: "It is good to see thee tilting, King's Son. I
doubt me I shall never learn thy downright thrust. Dost thou remember
how sorry a job I made of it, when we met in the lists at Vale Turris
that other day?"
"Yea, yea," said Ralph. "Thou were best let that flea stick on the
wall. For to-day, at least, I have seen thee play at sharps deftly
enough."
Quoth Redhead: "Lord, it is naught, a five minutes' scramble. That
which trieth a man, is to fight and overcome, and straight have to
fight with fresh foemen, and yet again, till ye long for dark night to
cover you--yea, or even death."
"Warrior-like and wisely thou speakest," said Ralph; "and whoever thou
servest thou shalt serve well. And now once more I would it were me."
Redhead shook his head at that word, and said: "I would it might be
so; but it will not be so as now."
Forth on they rode, and slept in a wood that night, keeping good watch;
but saw no more of the Black Riders for that time.
On a day thereafter when it was nigh evening, Ralph looked about, and
saw a certain wood on the edge of a plain, and he stayed Ursula, and
said: "Look round about, beloved; for this is the very field whereas I
was betrayed into the hands of the men of Utterbol." She smiled on him
and said: "Let me light down then, that I may kiss the earth of that
kind field, where thou wert not stayed over long, but even long enough
that we might meet in the dark wood thereafter."
"Sweetling," said Ralph, "this mayst thou do and grieve no man, not
even for a little. For lo you! the captain is staying the
sumpter-beasts, and it is his mind, belike, that we shall sleep in
yonder wood to-night." Therewith he lighted down and she in likewise:
then he took her by the hand and led her on a few yards, and said: "Lo,
beloved, this quicken-tree; hereby it was that the tent was pitched
wherein I lay the night when I was taken."
She looked on him shyly and said: "Wilt thou not sleep here once more
to-night?"
"Yea, well-beloved," said he, "I will bid them pitch thy tent on this
same place, that I may smell the wild thyme again, as I did that other
while."
So there on the field of his ancient grief they rested that night in
all love and content.
CHAPTER 8
Of Goldburg Again, and the Queen Thereof
Next day they went forth through the country wherethrough Morfinn had
led Ralph into captivity; and Redhead rode warily; for there were many
passes which looked doubtful: but whether the ill men feared to meddle
with them, or however it were, none waylaid them, and they all came
safely to the gate of Goldburg, the towers whereof were full of folk
looking forth on them. So they displayed their pennon, and rode into
the street, where folk pressed about them in friendly wise; for the new
Lord of Utterbol had made firm and fast peace with Goldburg. So they
rode to the hostel, and gat them victual, and rested in peace that
night. But Ralph wondered whether the Queen would send for him when
she heard of his coming back again, and he hoped that she would let him
be; for he was ashamed when he thought of her love for him, and how
that he had clean forgotten her till he was close to Goldburg again.
But when morning was come Ralph spake to Redhead and asked him how he
should do to wage men for the homeward journey on thence; and Redhead
said: "I have already seen the Clerk of the Porte, and he will be here
in an hour with the license for thee to wage men to go with thee to
Cheaping Knowe. As for me, I must needs go see the King, and give him
a letter sealed by my lord's hand; and when I come back from him, I
will go round to the alehouses which be haunted of the men-at-arms to
see after strong carles for thine avail. But to the King hast thou no
need to go, save he send for thee, whereas thou art not come hither to
chaffer, and he needeth not men of war."
Ralph stared at him and said: "The King, sayst thou? is there no Queen
of Goldburg?" Said Redhead: "There is the King's wedded wife, but her
they call not Queen, but Lady." "But the Queen that was," said Ralph,
"where is she then?" "Yea truly," said Redhead, "a Queen sat alone as
ruler here a while ago; but whether she died, or what befell her, I
know nothing. I had little to do with Goldburg till our lord conquered
Utterbol. Lo here the host! he may tell thee the tale thereof."
Therewith he departed, and left Ralph with the host, whom Ralph
questioned of the story, for his heart was wrung lest such a fair woman
and so friendly should have come to harm.
So the host sat down by Ralph and said: "My master, this is a tale
which is grievous to us: for though the saints forbid I should say a
word against my lord that is now, nor is there any need to, yet we
deemed us happy to be under so dear a lady and so good and fair as she
was. Well, she is gone so that we wot not whether she be living or
dead. For so it is that in the early spring, somewhat more than a year
ago that is, one morning when folk arose, the Queen's place was empty.
Riding and running there was about and about, but none the more was she
found. Forsooth as time wore, tales were told of what wise she left
us, and why: but she was gone. Well, fair sir, many deemed that
though her lineage was known by seeming, yet she was of the fairy, and
needed neither steed nor chariot to go where she would. But her women
and those that knew her best, deemed that whatso she were, she had
slain herself, as they thought, for some unhappiness of love. For
indeed she had long gone about sad and distraught, though she neither
wept, nor would say one word of her sorrow, whatsoever it might be.
"But, fair sir, since thou art a stranger, and art presently departing
from our city, I will tell thee a thing. To wit; one month or so after
she had vanished away, I held talk with a certain old fisherman of our
water, and he told me that on that same night of her vanishing, as he
stood on the water-side handing the hawser of his barque, and the sail
was all ready to be sheeted home, there came along the shore a woman
going very swiftly, who, glancing about her, as if to see that there
was none looking on or prying, came up to him, and prayed him in a
sweet voice for instant passage down the water. Wrapped she was in a
dark cloak and a cowl over her head, but as she put forth her hand to
give him gold, he saw even by the light of his lantern that it was
exceeding fair, and that great gems flashed from the finger-rings, and
that there was a great gold ring most precious on her arm.
"He yeasaid her asking, partly because of her gold, partly (as he told
me) that he feared her, deeming her to be of the fairy. Then she
stepped over his gangway of one board on to his boat, and as he held
the lantern low down to light her, lest she should make a false step
and fall into the water, he noted (quoth he) that a golden shoe all
begemmed came out from under gown-hem and that the said hem was
broidered thickly with pearl and jewels.
"Small was his barque, and he alone with the woman, and there was a
wind in the March night, and the stream is swift betwixt the quays of
our city; so that by night and cloud they made much way down the water,
and at sunrise were sailing through the great wood which lieth hence a
twenty leagues seaward. So when the sun was risen she stood up in the
fore part of the boat, and bade him turn the barque toward the shore,
and even as the bows ran upon the sand, she leapt out and let the
thicket cover her; nor have any of Goldburg seen her since, or the
Queen. But for my part I deem the woman to have been none other than
the Queen. Seest thou then! she is gone: but the King Rainald her
cousin reigns in her stead, a wise man, and a mighty, and no tyrant or
skinner of the people."
Ralph heard and pondered, and was exceeding sorry, and more had he been
but for the joyousness which came of the Water of the Well. Howbeit he
might not amend it: for even were he to seek for the Queen and find
her, it might well be worse than letting it be. For he knew (when he
thought of her) that she loved him, and how would it be if she might
not outwear her love, or endure the days of Goldburg, and he far away?
This he said to himself, which he might not have said to any other soul.
CHAPTER 9
They Come to Cheaping Knowe Once More. Of the King Thereof
Toward evening comes Redhead, and tells Ralph how he hired him a dozen
men-at-arms to follow him well-weaponed to Cheaping Knowe: withal he
counselled him to take a good gift with him to that same town to buy
the good will of the King there; who was a close-fist and a cruel lord.
Afterwards they sat together in the court of that fair house before
good wine, Ralph and Ursula, and Redhead and the Sage of Swevenham, and
spake of many things, and were merry and kind together. But on the
morrow Redhead departed from Goldburg with his men, and he loth to
depart, and they gave him farewell lovingly. Thereafter Ralph's new
men came to him in the hostelry, and he feasted them and did well to
them, so that they praised him much. Then he gat him victuals and
sumpter-horses for the journey, and bought good store of bows and
arrows withal. Furthermore he took heed to Redhead's word and bought a
goodly gift of silver vessel and fine cloth for the King of Cheaping
Knowe.
The day after he and his company departed from Goldburg toward the
mountains, which they passed unfought and unwaylaid: partly because
they were a band of stout men, and partly because a little before there
had been a great overthrow of the wild men of those mountains at the
hands of the men of Goldburg and the Chapmen; so that now the
mountain-men lay close, and troubled none that rode with any force.
On the way they failed not to pass by the place where they had erst
found Bull Nosy slain: there they saw his howe, heaped up exceeding
high, covered in with earth, whereon the grass was now beginning to
grow, and with a great standing stone on the top thereof, whereon was
graven the image of a bull, with a sword thereunder; whereby the
wayfarers wotted that this had been done in his memory by his brother,
the new Lord of Utterbol.
So they came down out of the mountains to Whiteness, where they had
good entertainment, but tarried not save for one night, riding their
ways betimes to Cheaping Knowe: and they came before the gate thereof
safe and sound on the third day; and slept in the hostelry of the
chapmen. On the morrow Ralph went up to the King's Castle with but
three men unweaponed bearing the gift which he had got for the King.
Albeit he sent not away his men-at-arms till he should know how the
King was minded towards him.
As he went he saw in the streets sad tokens of the lord's cruel
justice, as handless men, fettered, dragging themselves about, and folk
hung up before chapmen's booths, and whipping-cheer, and the pillar,
and such like. But whereas he might not help he would not heed, but
came right to the Castle-gate, and entered easily when he had told his
errand, for gift-bearing men are not oftenest withstood.
He was brought straightway into the great hall, where sat the King on
his throne amidst the chiefs of the Porte, and his captains and
sergeants, who were, so to say, his barons, though they were not barons
of lineage, but masterful men who were wise to do his bidding.
As he went up the hall he saw a sort of poor caytiffs, women as well as
men, led away from the high-place in chains by bailiffs and tipstaves;
and he doubted not that these were for torments or maiming and death;
and thought it were well might he do them some good.
Being come to the King, he made his obeisance to him, and craved his
good will and leave to wage men-at-arms to bring him through the
mountains.
The King was a tall man, a proper man of war; long-legged, black
bearded, and fierce-eyed. Some word he had heard of Ralph's gift,
therefore he was gracious to him; he spake and said: "Thou hast come
across the mountains a long way, fair Sir; prithee on what errand?"
Answered Ralph: "For no errand, lord, save to fare home to mine own
land." "Where is thine own land?" said the King, stretching out his
legs and lying back in his chair. "West-away, lord, many a mile," said
Ralph. "Yea," quoth the King, "and how far didst thou go beyond the
mountains? As far as Utterbol?" Said Ralph: "Yet further, but not to
Utterbol." "Hah!" said the King, "who goeth beyond Utterbol must have a
great errand; what was thine?"
Ralph thought for a moment, and deemed it best to say as little as he
might concerning Ursula; so he answered, and his voice grew loud and
bold: "I was minded to drink a draught of the WELL at the WORLD'S END,
and even so I did." As he spake, he drew himself up, and his brows
were knit a little, but his eyes sparkled from under them, and his
cheeks were bright and rosy. He half drew the sword from the scabbard,
and sent it back rattling, so that the sound of it went about the hall;
he upreared his head and looked around him on this and that one of the
warriors of the aliens, and he sniffed the air into his nostrils as he
stood alone amongst them, and set his foot down hard on the floor of
the King's hall, and his armour rattled upon him.