_The Last Great Rune_
As Alveric hastened back, led by two madmen, to those lands over which
he had long ago been lord, the horns of Elfland had sounded in Erl all
day. And though only Orion heard them, they no less thrilled the air,
flooding it deep with their curious golden music, and filling the day
with a wonder that others felt; so that many a young girl leaned from
her window to see what was enchanting the morning. But as the day wore
on the enchantment of the unheard music dwindled, giving place to a
feeling that weighed on all minds in Erl and seemed to bode the
imminence of some unknown region of wonder. All his life Orion had heard
these horns blowing at evening except upon days on which he had done
ill: if he heard the horns at evening he knew that it was well with him.
But now they had blown in the morning, and blew all day, like a fanfare
in front of a march; and Orion looked out of his window and saw nothing,
and the horns rang on, proclaiming he knew not what. Far away they
called his thoughts from the things of Earth that are the concern of
men, far away from all that casts shadows. He spoke to no man that day,
but went among his trolls and such elfin things as had followed them
over the border. And all men that saw him perceived such a look in his
eyes as showed his thoughts to be far in realms that they dreaded. And
his thoughts were indeed far thence, once more with his mother. And hers
were with him, lavishing tendernesses that the years had denied her, in
their swift passage over our fields that she never had understood. And
somehow he knew she was nearer.
And all that strange morning the will-o'-the-wisps were restless and the
trolls leaped wildly all about their lofts, for the horns of Elfland
tinged all the air with magic and excited their blood although they
could not hear them. But towards evening they felt impending some great
change and all grew silent and moody. And something brought to them
yearnings for their far magical home, as though a breeze had blown
suddenly into their faces straight off the tarns of Elfland; and they
ran up and down the street looking for something magical, to ease their
loneliness amongst mundane things. But found nothing resembling the
spell-born lilies that grew in their glory above the elfin tarns. And
the folk of the village perceived them everywhere and longed for the
wholesome earthly days again that there were before the coming of magic
to Erl. And some of them hurried off to the house of the Freer and took
refuge with him amongst his holy things from all the unhallowed shapes
that there were in their streets and all the magic that tingled and
loomed in the air. And he guarded them with his curses which floated
away the light and almost aimless will-o'-the-wisps, and even, at a
short distance, awed the trolls, but they ran and capered only a little
way off. And while the little group clustered about the Freer, seeking
solace from him against whatever impended, with which the air was
growing tenser and grimmer as the short day wore on, there went others
to Narl and the busy elders of Erl to say "See what your plans have
done. See what you have brought on the village."
And none of the elders made immediate answer, but said that they must
take counsel one with another, for they trusted greatly in the words
said in their parliament. And to this intent they gathered again at the
forge of Narl. It was evening now, but the sun had not yet set nor Narl
gone from his work, but his fire was beginning to glow with a deeper
colour among the shadows that had entered his forge. And the elders came
in there walking slowly with grave faces, partly because of the mystery
that they needed to cover their folly from the sight of the villagers,
partly because magic hung now so gross in the air that they feared the
imminence of some portentous thing. They sat in their parliament in that
inner room, while the sun went low and the elfin horns, had they but
known it, blew clear and triumphantly. And there they sat in silence,
for what could they say? They had wished for magic, and now it had come.
Trolls were in all the streets, goblins had entered houses, and now the
nights were mad with will-o'-the-wisps; and all the air was heavy with
unknown magic. What could they say? And after a while Narl said they
must make a new plan; for they had been plain bell-fearing folk, but now
there were magical things all over Erl, and more came every night from
Elfland to join them, and what would become of the old ways unless they
made a plan?
And Narl's words emboldened them all, though they felt the ominous
menace of the horns that they could not hear; but the talk of a plan
emboldened them, for they deemed they could plan against magic. And one
by one they rose to speak of a plan.
But at sunset the talk died down. And their dread that something
impended grew now to a certain knowledge. Oth and Threl knew it first,
who had lived familiar with mystery in the woods. All knew that
something was coming. No one knew what. And they all sat silent
wondering in the gloaming.
Lurulu saw it first. He had dreamed all day of the weed-green tarns of
Elfland, and growing weary of Earth, had gone all lonely to the top of a
tower that rose from the Castle of Erl and perched himself on a
battlement and gazed wistfully homewards. And looking out over the
fields we know, he saw the shining line coming down on Erl. And from it
he heard rise faint, as it rippled over the furrows, a murmur of many
old songs; for it came with all manner of memories, old music and lost
voices, sweeping back again to our old fields what time had driven from
Earth. It was coming towards him bright as the Evening Star, and
flashing with sudden colours, some common on Earth, and some unknown to
our rainbow; so that Lurulu knew it at once for the frontier of Elfland.
And all his impudence returned to him at sight of his fabulous home, and
he uttered shrill gusts of laughter from his high perch, that rang over
the roofs below like the chatter of building birds. And the little
homesick trolls in the lofts were cheered by the sound of his merriment
though they knew not from what it came. And now Orion heard the horns
blowing so loud and near, and there was such triumph in their blowing,
and pomp, and withal so wistful a crooning, that he knew now why they
blew, knew that they proclaimed the approach of a princess of the elfin
line, knew that his mother came back to him.
High on her hill Ziroonderel knew this, being forwarned by magic; and
looking downward at evening she saw that star-like line of blended
twilights of old lost Summer evenings sweeping over the fields towards
Erl. Almost she wondered as she saw this glittering thing flowing over
the earthly pastures, although her wisdom had told her that it must
come. And on the one side she saw the fields we know, full of accustomed
things, and on the other, looking down from her height, she saw, behind
the myriad-tinted border, the deep green elfin foliage and Elfland's
magical flowers, and things that delirium sees not, nor inspiration, on
Earth; and the fabulous creatures of Elfland prancing forward; and,
stepping across our fields and bringing Elfland with her, the twilight
flowing from both her hands, which she stretched out a little from her,
was her own lady the Princess Lirazel coming back to her home. And at
this sight, and at all the strangeness coming across our fields, or
because of old memories that came with the twilight or bygone songs that
sang in it, a strange joy came shivering upon Ziroonderel, and if
witches weep she wept.
And now from upper windows of the houses the folk began to see that
glittering line which was no earthly twilight: they saw it flash at them
with its starry gleam and then flow on towards them. Slowly it came as
though it rippled with difficulty over Earth's rugged bulk, though
moving lately over the rightful lands of the Elf King it had outspeeded
the comet. And hardly had they wondered at its strangeness, when they
found themselves amongst most familiar things, for the old memories that
floated before it, as a wind before the thunder, beat in a sudden gust
on their hearts and their houses, and lo! they were living once more
amongst things long past and lost. And as that line of no earthly light
came nearer there rustled before it a sound as of rain on leaves, old
sighs, breathed over again, old lovers' whispers repeated. And there
fell on these folk as they all leaned hushed from their windows a mood
that looked gently, wistfully backward through time, such a mood as
might lurk by huge dock-leaves in ancient gardens when everyone is gone
that has tended their roses or ever loved the bowers.
Not yet had that line of starlight and bygone loves lapped at the walls
of Erl or foamed on the houses, but it was so near now that already
there slipped away the daily cares that held folk down to the present,
and they felt the balm of past days and blessings from hands long
withered. Now elders ran out to children that skipped with a rope in the
street, to bring them into the houses, not telling them why, for fear of
frightening their daughters. And the alarm in their mothers' faces for a
moment startled the children; then some of them looked to the eastward
and saw that shining line. "It is Elfland coming," they said, and went
on with their skipping.
And the hounds knew, though what they knew I cannot say; but some
influence reached them from Elfland such as comes from the full moon,
and they bayed as they bay on clear nights when the fields are flooded
with moonlight. And the dogs in the streets that always watched lest
anything strange should come, knew how great a strangeness was near them
now and proclaimed it to all the valley.
Already the old leather-worker in his cottage across the fields, looking
out of his window to see if his well were frozen, saw a May morning of
fifty years ago and his wife gathering lilac, for Elfland had beaten
Time away from his garden.
And now the jackdaws had left the towers of Erl and flew away westward;
and the baying of the hounds filled all the air, and the barking of
lesser dogs. This suddenly ceased and a great hush fell on the village,
as though snow had suddenly fallen inches deep. And through the hush
came softly a strange old music; and no one spoke at all.
Then where Ziroonderel sat by her door with her chin on her hand gazing,
she saw the bright line touch the houses and stop, flowing past them on
either side but held by the houses, as though it had met with something
too strong for its magic; but for only a moment the houses held back
that wonderful tide, for it broke over them with a burst of unearthly
foam, like a meteor of unknown metal burning in heaven, and passed on
and the houses stood all quaint and queer and enchanted, like homes
remembered out of a long-past age by the sudden waking of an inherited
memory.
And then she saw the boy she had nursed step forward into the twilight,
drawn by a power no less than that which was moving Elfland: she saw him
and his mother meet again in all that light that was flooding the valley
with splendour. And Alveric was with her, he and she together a little
apart from attendant fabulous things, that escorted her all the way from
the vales of the Elfin Mountains. And from Alveric had fallen away that
heavy burden of years, and all the sorrow of wandering: he too was back
again in the days that were, with old songs and lost voices. And
Ziroonderel could not see the princess's tears when she met Orion again
after all that separation of space and time, for, though they flashed
like stars, she stood in the border in all that radiance of starlight
that shone about her like the broad face of a planet. But though the
witch saw not this there came to her old ears clearly the sounds of
songs returning again to our fields out of the glens of Elfland, wherein
they had lain so long, which were all the old songs lost from the
nurseries of the Earth. They crooned now about the meeting of Lirazel
and Orion.
And Niv and Zend had ease at last from their fierce fancies, for their
wild thoughts sank to rest in the calm of Elfland and slept as hawks
sleep in their trees when evening has lulled the world. Ziroonderel saw
them standing together where the edge of the downs had been, a little
way off from Alveric. And there was Vand amongst his golden sheep, that
were munching the strange sweet juices of wonderful flowers.
With all these wonders Lirazel came for her son, and brought Elfland
with her that never had moved before the width of a harebell over the
earthly border. And where they met was an old garden of roses under the
towers of Erl, where once she had walked, and none had cared for it
since. Great weeds were now in its walks, and even they were withered
with the rigour of late November: their dry stalks hissed about his feet
as Orion walked through them, and they swung back brown behind him over
untended paths. But before him bloomed in all their glory and beauty the
great voluptuous roses gorgeous with Summer. Between November that she
was driving before her and that old season of roses that she brought
back to her garden Lirazel and Orion met. For a moment the withered
garden lay brown behind him, then it all flashed into bloom, and the
wild glad song of birds from a hundred arbours welcomed back the old
roses. And Orion was back again in the beauty and brightness of days
whose dim fair shades his memory cherished, such as are the chief of all
the treasures of man; but the treasury in which they lie is locked, and
we have not the key. Then Elfland poured over Erl.
Only the holy place of the Freer and the garden that was about it
remained still of our Earth, a little island all surrounded by wonder,
like a mountain peak all rocky, alone in air, when a mist wells up in
the gloaming from highland valleys, and leaves only one pinnacle darkly
to gaze at the stars. For the sound of his bell beat back the rune and
the twilight for a little distance all round. There he lived happy,
contented, not quite alone, amongst his holy things, for a few that had
been cut off by that magical tide lived on the holy island and served
him there. And he lived beyond the age of ordinary men, but not to the
years of magic.
None ever crossed the boundary but one, the witch Ziroonderel, who from
her hill that was just on the earthward border would go by broom on
starry nights to see her lady again, where she dwelt unvexed by years,
with Alveric and Orion. Thence she comes sometimes, high in the night on
her broom, unseen by any down on the earthly fields, unless you chance
to notice star after star blink out for an instant as she passes by
them, and sits beside cottage doors and tells queer tales, to such as
care to have news of the wonders of Elfland. May I hear her again!
And with the last of his world-disturbing runes sent forth, and his
daughter happy once more, the elfin King on his tremendous throne
breathed and drew in the calm in which Elfland basks; and all his realms
dreamed on in that ageless repose, of which deep green pools in summer
can barely guess; and Erl dreamed too with all the rest of Elfland and
so passed out of all remembrance of men. For the twelve that were of the
parliament of Erl looked through the window of that inner room, wherein
they planned their plans by the forge of Narl, and, gazing over their
familiar lands, perceived that they were no longer the fields we know.