When it was the morning, all the host of the Markmen was astir on either
side of the water, and when they had broken their fast, they got speedily
into array, and were presently on the road again; and the host was now
strung out longer yet, for the space between water and wood once more
diminished till at last it was no wider than ten men might go abreast,
and looking ahead it was as if the wild-wood swallowed up both river and
road.
But the fighting-men hastened on merrily with their hearts raised high,
since they knew that they would soon be falling in with more of their
people, and the coming fight was growing a clearer picture to their eyes;
so from side to side of the river they shouted out the cries of their
Houses, or friend called to friend across the eddies of Mirkwood-water,
and there was game and glee enough.
So they fared till the wood gave way before them, and lo, the beginning
of another plain, somewhat like the Mid-mark. There also the water
widened out before them, and there were eyots in it with stony shores
crowned with willow or with alder, and aspens rising from the midst of
them.
But as for the plain, it was thus much different from Mid-mark, that the
wood which begirt it rose on the south into low hills, and away beyond
them were other hills blue in the distance, for the most bare of wood,
and not right high, the pastures of the wild-bull and the bison, whereas
now dwelt a folk somewhat scattered and feeble; hunters and herdsmen,
with little tillage about their abodes, a folk akin to the Markmen and
allied to them. They had come into those parts later than the Markmen,
as the old tales told; which said moreover that in days gone by a folk
dwelt among those hills who were alien from the Goths, and great foes to
the Markmen; and how that on a time they came down from their hills with
a great host, together with new-comers of their own blood, and made their
way through the wild-wood, and fell upon the Upper-mark; and how that
there befel a fearful battle that endured for three days; and the first
day the Aliens worsted the Markmen, who were but a few, since they were
they of the Upper-mark only. So the Aliens burned their houses and slew
their old men, and drave off many of their women and children; and the
remnant of the men of the Upper-mark with all that they had, which was
now but little, took refuge in an island of Mirkwood-water, where they
fenced themselves as well as they could for that night; for they expected
the succour of their kindred of the Mid-mark and the Nether-mark, unto
whom they had sped the war-arrow when they first had tidings of the onset
of the Aliens.
So at the sun-rising they sacrificed to the Gods twenty chieftains of the
Aliens whom they had taken, and therewithal a maiden of their own
kindred, the daughter of their war-duke, that she might lead that mighty
company to the House of the Gods; and thereto was she nothing loth, but
went right willingly.
There then they awaited the onset. But the men of Mid-mark came up in
the morning, when the battle was but just joined, and fell on so fiercely
that the aliens gave back, and then they of the Upper-mark stormed out of
their eyot, and fell on over the ford, and fought till the water ran red
with their blood, and the blood of the foemen. So the Aliens gave back
before the onset of the Markmen all over the meads; but when they came to
the hillocks and the tofts of the half-burned habitations, and the wood
was on their flank, they made a stand again, and once more the battle
waxed hot, for they were very many, and had many bowmen: there fell the
War-duke of the Markmen, whose daughter had been offered up for victory,
and his name was Agni, so that the tofts where he fell have since been
called Agni's Tofts. So that day they fought all over the plain, and a
great many died, both of the Aliens and the Markmen, and though these
last were victorious, yet when the sun went down there still were the
Aliens abiding in the Upper-mark, fenced by their wain-burg, beaten, and
much diminished in number, but still a host of men: while of the Markmen
many had fallen, and many more were hurt, because the Aliens were good
bowmen.
But on the morrow again, as the old tale told, came up the men of the
Nether-mark fresh and unwounded; and so the battle began again on the
southern limit of the Upper-mark where the Aliens had made their wain-
burg. But not long did it endure; for the Markmen fell on so fiercely,
that they stormed over the wain-burg, and slew all before them, and there
was a very great slaughter of the Aliens; so great, tells the old tale,
that never again durst they meet the Markmen in war.
Thus went forth the host of the Markmen, faring along both sides of the
water into the Upper-mark; and on the west side, where went the Wolfings,
the ground now rose by a long slope into a low hill, and when they came
unto the brow thereof, they beheld before them the whole plain of the
Upper-mark, and the dwellings of the kindred therein all girdled about by
the wild-wood; and beyond, the blue hills of the herdsmen, and beyond
them still, a long way aloof, lying like a white cloud on the verge of
the heavens, the snowy tops of the great mountains. And as they looked
down on to the plain they saw it embroidered, as it were, round about the
habitations which lay within ken by crowds of many people, and the
banners of the kindreds and the arms of men; and many a place they saw
named after the ancient battle and that great slaughter of the Aliens.
On their left hand lay the river, and as it now fairly entered with them
into the Upper-mark, it spread out into wide rippling shallows beset with
yet more sandy eyots, amongst which was one much greater, rising amidmost
into a low hill, grassy and bare of tree or bush; and this was the island
whereon the Markmen stood on the first day of the Great Battle, and it
was now called the Island of the Gods.
Thereby was the ford, which was firm and good and changed little from
year to year, so that all Markmen knew it well and it was called
Battleford: thereover now crossed all the eastern companies, footmen and
horsemen, freemen and thralls, wains and banners, with shouting and
laughter, and the noise of horns and the lowing of neat, till all that
plain's end was flooded with the host of the Markmen.
But when the eastern-abiders had crossed, they made no stay, but went
duly ordered about their banners, winding on toward the first of the
abodes on the western side of the water; because it was but a little way
southwest of this that the Thing-stead of the Upper-mark lay; and the
whole Folk was summoned thither when war threatened from the South, just
as it was called to the Thing-stead of the Nether-mark, when the threat
of war came from the North. But the western companies stayed on the brow
of that low hill till all the eastern men were over the river, and on
their way to the Thing-stead, and then they moved on.
So came the Wolfings and their fellows up to the dwellings of the
northernmost kindred, who were called the Daylings, and bore on their
banner the image of the rising sun. Thereabout was the Mark somewhat
more hilly and broken than in the Mid-mark, so that the Great Roof of the
Daylings, which was a very big house, stood on a hillock whose sides had
been cleft down sheer on all sides save one (which was left as a bridge)
by the labour of men, and it was a very defensible place.
Thereon were now gathered round about the Roof all the stay-at-homes of
the kindred, who greeted with joyous cries the men-at-arms as they
passed. Albeit one very old man, who sat in a chair near to the edge of
the sheer hill looking on the war array, when he saw the Wolfing banner
draw near, stood up to gaze on it, and then shook his head sadly, and
sank back again into his chair, and covered his face with his hands: and
when the folk saw that, a silence bred of the coldness of fear fell on
them, for that elder was deemed a foreseeing man.
But as those three fellows, of whose talk of yesterday the tale has told,
drew near and beheld what the old carle did (for they were riding
together this day also) the Beaming man laid his hand on Wolfkettle's
rein and said:
"Lo you, neighbour, if thy Vala hath seen nought, yet hath this old man
seen somewhat, and that somewhat even as the little lad saw it. Many a
mother's son shall fall before the Welshmen."
But Wolfkettle shook his rein free, and his face reddened as of one who
is angry, yet he kept silence, while the Elking said:
"Let be, Toti! for he that lives shall tell the tale to the foreseers,
and shall make them wiser than they are to-day."
Then laughed Toti, as one who would not be thought to be too heedful of
the morrow. But Wolfkettle brake out into speech and rhyme, and said:
"O warriors, the Wolfing kindred shall live or it shall die;
And alive it shall be as the oak-tree when the summer storm goes by;
But dead it shall be as its bole, that they hew for the corner-post
Of some fair and mighty folk-hall, and the roof of a war-fain host."
So therewith they rode their ways past the abode of the Daylings.
Straight to the wood went all the host, and so into it by a wide way
cleft through the thicket, and in some thirty minutes they came thereby
into a great wood-lawn cleared amidst of it by the work of men's hands.
There already was much of the host gathered, sitting or standing in a
great ring round about a space bare of men, where amidmost rose a great
mound raised by men's hands and wrought into steps to be the
sitting-places of the chosen elders and chief men of the kindred; and
atop the mound was flat and smooth save for a turf bench or seat that
went athwart it whereon ten men might sit.
All the wains save the banner-wains had been left behind at the Dayling
abode, nor was any beast there save the holy beasts who drew the banner-
wains and twenty white horses, that stood wreathed about with flowers
within the ring of warriors, and these were for the burnt offering to be
given to the Gods for a happy day of battle. Even the war-horses of the
host they must leave in the wood without the wood-lawn, and all men were
afoot who were there.
For this was the Thing-stead of the Upper-mark, and the holiest place of
the Markmen, and no beast, either neat, sheep, or horse might pasture
there, but was straightway slain and burned if he wandered there; nor
might any man eat therein save at the holy feasts when offerings were
made to the Gods.
So the Wolfings took their place there in the ring of men with the
Elkings on their right hand and the Beamings on their left. And in the
midst of the Wolfing array stood Thiodolf clad in the dwarf-wrought
hauberk: but his head was bare; for he had sworn over the Cup of Renown
that he would fight unhelmed throughout all that trouble, and would bear
no shield in any battle thereof however fierce the onset might be.
Short, and curling close to his head was his black hair, a little
grizzled, so that it looked like rings of hard dark iron: his forehead
was high and smooth, his lips full and red, his eyes steady and
wide-open, and all his face joyous with the thought of the fame of his
deeds, and the coming battle with a foeman whom the Markmen knew not yet.
He was tall and wide-shouldered, but so exceeding well fashioned of all
his limbs and body that he looked no huge man. He was a man well beloved
of women, and children would mostly run to him gladly and play with him.
A most fell warrior was he, whose deeds no man of the Mark could equal,
but blithe of speech even when he was sorrowful of mood, a man that knew
not bitterness of heart: and for all his exceeding might and valiancy, he
was proud and high to no man; so that the very thralls loved him.
He was not abounding in words in the field; nor did he use much the
custom of those days in reviling and defying with words the foe that was
to be smitten with swords.
There were those who had seen him in the field for the first time who
deemed him slack at the work: for he would not always press on with the
foremost, but would hold him a little aback, and while the battle was
young he forbore to smite, and would do nothing but help a kinsman who
was hard pressed, or succour the wounded. So that if men were dealing
with no very hard matter, and their hearts were high and overweening, he
would come home at whiles with unbloodied blade. But no man blamed him
save those who knew him not: for his intent was that the younger men
should win themselves fame, and so raise their courage, and become high-
hearted and stout.
But when the stour was hard, and the battle was broken, and the hearts of
men began to fail them, and doubt fell upon the Markmen, then was he
another man to see: wise, but swift and dangerous, rushing on as if shot
out by some mighty engine: heedful of all, on either side and in front;
running hither and thither as the fight failed and the fire of battle
faltered; his sword so swift and deadly that it was as if he wielded the
very lightening of the heavens: for with the sword it was ever his wont
to fight.
But it must be said that when the foemen turned their backs, and the
chase began, then Thiodolf would nowise withhold his might as in the
early battle, but ever led the chase, and smote on the right hand and on
the left, sparing none, and crying out to the men of the kindred not to
weary in their work, but to fulfil all the hours of their day.
For thuswise would he say and this was a word of his:
"Let us rest to-morrow, fellows, since to-day we have fought amain!
Let not these men we have smitten come aback on our hands again,
And say 'Ye Wolfing warriors, ye have done your work but ill,
Fall to now and do it again, like the craftsman who learneth his
skill.'"
Such then was Thiodolf, and ever was he the chosen leader of the Wolfings
and often the War-duke of the whole Folk.
By his side stood the other chosen leader, whose name was Heriulf; a man
well stricken in years, but very mighty and valiant; wise in war and well
renowned; of few words save in battle, and therein a singer of songs, a
laugher, a joyous man, a merry companion. He was a much bigger man than
Thiodolf; and indeed so huge was his stature, that he seemed to be of the
kindred of the Mountain Giants; and his bodily might went with his
stature, so that no one man might deal with him body to body. His face
was big; his cheek-bones high; his nose like an eagle's neb, his mouth
wide, his chin square and big; his eyes light-grey and fierce under
shaggy eyebrows: his hair white and long.
Such were his raiment and weapons, that he wore a coat of fence of dark
iron scales sewn on to horse-hide, and a dark iron helm fashioned above
his brow into the similitude of the Wolf's head with gaping jaws; and
this he had wrought for himself with his own hands, for he was a good
smith. A round buckler he bore and a huge twibill, which no man of the
kindred could well wield save himself; and it was done both blade and
shaft with knots and runes in gold; and he loved that twibill well, and
called it the Wolf's Sister.
There then stood Heriulf, looking no less than one of the forefathers of
the kindred come back again to the battle of the Wolfings.
He was well-beloved for his wondrous might, and he was no hard man,
though so fell a warrior, and though of few words, as aforesaid, was a
blithe companion to old and young. In numberless battles had he fought,
and men deemed it a wonder that Odin had not taken to him a man so much
after his own heart; and they said it was neighbourly done of the Father
of the Slain to forbear his company so long, and showed how well he loved
the Wolfing House.
For a good while yet came other bands of Markmen into the Thing-stead;
but at last there was an end of their coming. Then the ring of men
opened, and ten warriors of the Daylings made their way through it, and
one of them, the oldest, bore in his hand the War-horn of the Daylings;
for this kindred had charge of the Thing-stead, and of all appertaining
to it. So while his nine fellows stood round about the Speech-Hill, the
old warrior clomb up to the topmost of it, and blew a blast on the horn.
Thereon they who were sitting rose up, and they who were talking each to
each held their peace, and the whole ring drew nigher to the hill, so
that there was a clear space behind them 'twixt them and the wood, and a
space before them between them and the hill, wherein were those nine
warriors, and the horses for the burnt-offering, and the altar of the
Gods; and now were all well within ear-shot of a man speaking amidst the
silence in a clear voice.
But there were gathered of the Markmen to that place some four thousand
men, all chosen warriors and doughty men; and of the thralls and aliens
dwelling with them they were leading two thousand. But not all of the
freemen of the Upper-mark could be at the Thing; for needs must there be
some guard to the passes of the wood toward the south and the hills of
the herdsmen, whereas it was no wise impassable to a wisely led host: so
five hundred men, what of freemen, what of thralls, abode there to guard
the wild-wood; and these looked to have some helping from the hill-men.
Now came an ancient warrior into the space between the men and the wild-
wood holding in his hand a kindled torch; and first he faced due south by
the sun, then, turning, he slowly paced the whole circle going from east
to west, and so on till he had reached the place he started from: then he
dashed the torch to the ground and quenched the fire, and so went his
ways to his own company again.
Then the old Dayling warrior on the mound-top drew his sword, and waved
it flashing in the sun toward the four quarters of the heavens; and
thereafter blew again a blast on the War-horn. Then fell utter silence
on the whole assembly, and the wood was still around them, save here and
there the stamping of a war-horse or the sound of his tugging at the
woodland grass; for there was little resort of birds to the depths of the
thicket, and the summer morning was windless.