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Title:  The Story of the Glittering Plain

Author:  William Morris

March, 2001  [Etext #2565]


Project Gutenberg Etext Story of the Glittering Plain, by Morris
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THE STORY OF THE GLITTERING PLAIN OR THE LAND OF LIVING MEN

by William Morris




CHAPTER I:  OF THOSE THREE WHO CAME TO THE HOUSE OF THE RAVEN



It has been told that there was once a young man of free kindred and
whose name was Hallblithe:  he was fair, strong, and not untried in
battle; he was of the House of the Raven of old time.

This man loved an exceeding fair damsel called the Hostage, who was
of the House of the Rose, wherein it was right and due that the men
of the Raven should wed.

She loved him no less, and no man of the kindred gainsaid their love,
and they were to be wedded on Midsummer Night.

But one day of early spring, when the days were yet short and the
nights long, Hallblithe sat before the porch of the house smoothing
an ash stave for his spear, and he heard the sound of horse-hoofs
drawing nigh, and he looked up and saw folk riding toward the house,
and so presently they rode through the garth gate; and there was no
man but he about the house, so he rose up and went to meet them, and
he saw that they were but three in company:  they had weapons with
them, and their horses were of the best; but they were no fellowship
for a man to be afraid of; for two of them were old and feeble, and
the third was dark and sad, and drooping of aspect:  it seemed as if
they had ridden far and fast, for their spurs were bloody and their
horses all a-sweat.

Hallblithe hailed them kindly and said:  "Ye are way-worn, and maybe
ye have to ride further; so light down and come into the house, and
take bite and sup, and hay and corn also for your horses; and then if
ye needs must ride on your way, depart when ye are rested; or else if
ye may, then abide here night-long, and go your ways to-morrow, and
meantime that which is ours shall be yours, and all shall be free to
you."

Then spake the oldest of the elders in a high piping voice and said:
"Young man, we thank thee; but though the days of the springtide are
waxing, the hours of our lives are waning; nor may we abide unless
thou canst truly tell us that this is the Land of the Glittering
Plain:  and if that be so, then delay not, lead us to thy lord, and
perhaps he will make us content."

Spake he who was somewhat less stricken in years than the first:
"Thanks have thou! but we need something more than meat and drink, to
wit the Land of Living Men.  And Oh! but the time presses."

Spake the sad and sorry carle:  "We seek the Land where the days are
many:  so many that he who hath forgotten how to laugh, may learn the
craft again, and forget the days of Sorrow."

Then they all three cried aloud and said:

"Is this the Land?  Is this the Land?"

But Hallblithe wondered, and he laughed and said:  "Wayfarers, look
under the sun down the plain which lieth betwixt the mountains and
the sea, and ye shall behold the meadows all gleaming with the spring
lilies; yet do we not call this the Glittering Plain, but Cleveland
by the Sea.  Here men die when their hour comes, nor know I if the
days of their life be long enough for the forgetting of sorrow; for I
am young and not yet a yokefellow of sorrow; but this I know, that
they are long enough for the doing of deeds that shall not die.  And
as for Lord, I know not this word, for here dwell we, the sons of the
Raven, in good fellowship, with our wives that we have wedded, and
our mothers who have borne us, and our sisters who serve us.  Again I
bid you light down off your horses, and eat and drink, and be merry;
and depart when ye will, to seek what land ye will."

They scarce looked on him, but cried out together mournfully:

"This is not the Land!  This is not the Land!"

No more than that they said, but turned about their horses and rode
out through the garth gate, and went clattering up the road that led
to the pass of the mountains.  But Hallblithe hearkened wondering,
till the sound of their horse-hoofs died away, and then turned back
to his work:  and it was then two hours after high-noon.



CHAPTER II:  EVIL TIDINGS COME TO HAND AT CLEVELAND



Not long had he worked ere he heard the sound of horsehoofs once
more, and he looked not up, but said to himself, "It is but the lads
bringing back the teams from the acres, and riding fast and driving
hard for joy of heart and in wantonness of youth."

But the sound grew nearer and he looked up and saw over the turf wall
of the garth the flutter of white raiment; and he said:

"Nay, it is the maidens coming back from the seashore and the
gathering of wrack."

So he set himself the harder to his work, and laughed, all alone as
he was, and said:  "She is with them:  now I will not look up again
till they have ridden into the garth, and she has come from among
them, and leapt off her horse, and cast her arms about my neck as her
wont is; and it will rejoice her then to mock me with hard words and
kind voice and longing heart; and I shall long for her and kiss her,
and sweet shall the coming days seem to us:  and the daughters of our
folk shall look on and be kind and blithe with us."

Therewith rode the maidens into the garth, but he heard no sound of
laughter or merriment amongst them, which was contrary to their wont;
and his heart fell, and it was as if instead of the maidens' laughter
the voices of those wayfarers came back upon the wind crying out, "Is
this the Land?  Is this the Land?"

Then he looked up hastily, and saw the maidens drawing near, ten of
the House of the Raven, and three of the House of the Rose; and he
beheld them that their faces were pale and woe-begone, and their
raiment rent, and there was no joy in them.  Hallblithe stood aghast
while one who had gotten off her horse (and she was the daughter of
his own mother) ran past him into the hall, looking not at him, as if
she durst not:  and another rode off swiftly to the horse-stalls.
But the others, leaving their horses, drew round about him, and for a
while none durst utter a word; and he stood gazing at them, with the
spoke-shave in his hand, he also silent; for he saw that the Hostage
was not with them, and he knew that now he was the yokefellow of
sorrow.

At last he spoke gently and in a kind voice, and said:  "Tell me,
sisters, what evil hath befallen us, even if it be the death of a
dear friend, and the thing that may not be amended."

Then spoke a fair woman of the Rose, whose name was Brightling, and
said:  "Hallblithe, it is not of death that we have to tell, but of
sundering, which may yet be amended.  We were on the sand of the sea
nigh the Ship-stead and the Rollers of the Raven, and we were
gathering the wrack and playing together; and we saw a round-ship
nigh to shore lying with her sheet slack, and her sail beating the
mast; but we deemed it to be none other than some bark of the Fish-
biters, and thought no harm thereof, but went on running and playing
amidst the little waves that fell on the sand, and the ripples that
curled around our feet.  At last there came a small boat from the
side of the round-ship, and rowed in toward shore, and still we
feared not, though we drew a little aback from the surf and let fall
our gown-hems.  But the crew of that boat beached her close to where
we stood, and came hastily wading the surf towards us; and we saw
that they were twelve weaponed men, great, and grim, and all clad in
black raiment.  Then indeed were we afraid, and we turned about and
fled up the beach; but now it was too late, for the tide was at more
than half ebb and long was the way over the sand to the place where
we had left our horses tied among the tamarisk-bushes.  Nevertheless
we ran, and had gotten up to the pebble-beach before they ran in
amongst us:  and they caught us, and cast us down on to the hard
stones.

"Then they made us sit in a row on a ridge of the pebbles; and we
were sore afraid, yet more for defilement at their hands than for
death; for they were evil-looking men exceeding foul of favour.  Then
said one of them:  'Which of all you maidens is the Hostage of the
House of the Rose?'

"Then all we kept silence, for we would not betray her.  But the evil
man spake again:  'Choose ye then whether we shall take one, or all
of you across the waters in our black ship.'  Yet still we others
spake not, till arose thy beloved, O Hallblithe, and said:

"'Let it be one then, and not all; for I am the Hostage.'

"'How shalt thou make us sure thereof?' said the evil carle.

"She looked on him proudly and said:  'Because I say it.'

"'Wilt thou swear it?' said he.

"'Yea,' said she, 'I swear it by the token of the House wherein I
shall wed; by the wings of the Fowl that seeketh the Field of
Slaying.'

"'It is enough,' said the man, 'come thou with us.  And ye maidens
sit ye there, and move not till we have made way on our ship, unless
ye would feel the point of the arrow.  For ye are within bowshot of
the ship, and we have shot weapons aboard.'

"So the Hostage departed with them, and she unweeping, but we wept
sorely.  And we saw the small boat come up to the side of the round-
ship, and the Hostage going over the gunwale along with those evil
men, and we heard the hale and how of the mariners as they drew up
the anchor and sheeted home; and then the sweeps came out and the
ship began to move over the sea.  And one of those evil-minded men
bent his bow and shot a shaft at us, but it fell far short of where
we sat, and the laugh of those runagates came over the sands to us.
So we crept up the beach trembling, and then rose to our feet and got
to our horses, and rode hither speedily, and our hearts are broken
for thy sorrow."

At that word came Hallblithe's own sister out from the hall; and she
bore weapons with her, to wit Hallblithe's sword and shield and helm
and hauberk.  As for him he turned back silently to his work, and set
the steel of the spear on the new ashen shaft, and took the hammer
and smote the nail in, and laid the weapon on a round pebble that was
thereby, and clenched the nail on the other side.  Then he looked
about, and saw that the other damsel had brought him his coal-black
war-horse ready saddled and bridled; then he did on his armour, and
girt his sword to his side and leapt into the saddle, and took his
new-shafted spear in hand and shook the rein.  But none of all those
damsels durst say a word to him or ask him whither he went, for they
feared his face, and the sorrow of his heart.  So he got him out of
the garth and turned toward the sea-shore, and they saw the glitter
of his spear-point a minute over the turf-wall, and heard the clatter
of his horse-hoofs as he galloped over the hard way; and thus he
departed.



CHAPTER III:  THE WARRIORS OF THE RAVEN SEARCH THE SEAS



Then the women bethought them, and they spake a word or two together,
and then they sundered and went one this way and one that, to gather
together the warriors of the Raven who were a-field, or on the way,
nigh unto the house, that they might follow Hallblithe down to the
sea-shore and help him; after a while they came back again by one and
two and three, bringing with them the wrathful young men; and when
there was upward of a score gathered in the garth armed and horsed,
they rode their ways to the sea, being minded to thrust a long-ship
of the Ravens out over the Rollers into the sea, and follow the
strong-thieves of the waters and bring a-back the Hostage, so that
they might end the sorrow at once, and establish joy once more in the
House of the Raven and the House of the Rose.  But they had with them
three lads of fifteen winters or thereabouts to lead their horses
back home again, when they should have gone up on to the Horse of the
Brine.

Thus then they departed, and the maidens stood in the garth-gate till
they lost sight of them behind the sandhills, and then turned back
sorrowfully into the house, and sat there talking low of their
sorrow.  And many a time they had to tell their tale anew, as folk
came into the hall one after another from field and fell.  But the
young men came down to the sea, and found Hallblithe's black horse
straying about amongst the tamarisk-bushes above the beach; and they
looked thence over the sand, and saw neither Hallblithe nor any man:
and they gazed out seaward, and saw neither ship nor sail on the
barren brine.  Then they went down on to the sand, and sundered their
fellowship, and went half one way, half the other, betwixt the
sandhills and the surf, where now the tide was flowing, till the
nesses of the east and the west, the horns of the bay, stayed them.
Then they met together again by the Rollers, when the sun was within
an hour of setting.  There and then they laid hand to that ship which
is called the Seamew, and they ran her down over the Rollers into the
waves, and leapt aboard and hoisted sail, and ran out the oars and
put to sea; and a little wind was blowing seaward from the gates of
the mountains behind them.

So they quartered the sea-plain, as the kestrel doth the water-
meadows, till the night fell on them, and was cloudy, though whiles
the wading moon shone out; and they had seen nothing, neither sail
nor ship, nor aught else on the barren brine, save the washing of
waves and the hovering of sea-fowl.  So they lay-to outside the horns
of the bay and awaited the dawning.  And when morning was come they
made way again, and searched the sea, and sailed to the out-skerries,
and searched them with care; then they sailed into the main and fared
hither and thither and up and down:  and this they did for eight
days, and in all that time they saw no ship nor sail, save three
barks of the Fish-biters nigh to the Skerry which is called Mew-
stone.

So they fared home to the Raven Bay, and laid their keel on the
Rollers, and so went their ways sadly, home to the House of the
Raven:  and they deemed that for this time they could do no more in
seeking their valiant kinsman and his fair damsel.  And they were
very sorry; for these two were well-beloved of all men.  But since
they might not amend it, they abode in peace, awaiting what the
change of days might bring them.



CHAPTER IV:  NOW HALLBLITHE TAKETH THE SEA



Now must it be told of Hallblithe that he rode fiercely down to the
sea-shore, and from the top of the beach he gazed about him, and
there below him was the Ship-stead and Rollers of his kindred,
whereon lay the three long-ships, the Seamew, and the Osprey and the
Erne.  Heavy and huge they seemed to him as they lay there, black-
sided, icy-cold with the washing of the March waves, their golden
dragon-heads looking seaward wistfully.  But first had he looked out
into the offing, and it was only when he had let his eyes come back
from where the sea and sky met, and they had beheld nothing but the
waste of waters, that he beheld the Ship-stead closely; and therewith
he saw where a little to the west of it lay a skiff, which the low
wave of the tide lifted and let fall from time to time.  It had a
mast, and a black sail hoisted thereon and flapping with slackened
sheet.  A man sat in the boat clad in black raiment, and the sun
smote a gleam from the helm on his head.  Then Hallblithe leapt off
his horse, and strode down the sands shouldering his spear; and when
he came near to the man in the boat he poised his spear and shook it
and cried out:  "Man, art thou friend or foe?"

Said the man:  "Thou art a fair young man:  but there is grief in thy
voice along with wrath.  Cast not till thou hast heard me, and mayst
deem whether I may do aught to heal thy grief."

"What mayst thou do?" said Hallblithe; "art thou not a robber of the
sea, a harrier of the folks that dwell in peace?"

The man laughed:  "Yea," said he, "my craft is thieving and carrying
off the daughters of folk, so that we may have a ransom for them.
Wilt thou come over the waters with me?"

Hallblithe said wrathfully:

"Nay, rather, come thou ashore here!  Thou seemest a big man, and
belike shall be good of thine hands.  Come and fight with me; and
then he of us who is vanquished, if he be unslain, shall serve the
other for a year, and then shalt thou do my business in the
ransoming."

The man in the boat laughed again, and that so scornfully that he
angered Hallblithe beyond measure:  then he arose in the boat and
stood on his feet swaying from side to side as he laughed.  He was
passing big, long-armed and big-headed, and long hair came from under
his helm like the tail of a red horse; his eyes were grey and
gleaming, and his mouth wide.

In a while he stayed his laughter and said:  "O Warrior of the Raven,
this were a simple game for thee to play; though it is not far from
my mind, for fighting when I needs must win is no dull work.  Look
you, if I slay or vanquish thee, then all is said; and if by some
chance stroke thou slayest me, then is thine only helper in this
matter gone from thee.  Now to be short, I bid thee come aboard to me
if thou wouldst ever hear another word of thy damsel betrothed.  And
moreover this need not hinder thee to fight with me if thou hast a
mind to it thereafter; for we shall soon come to a land big enough
for two to stand on.  Or if thou listest to fight in a boat rocking
on the waves, I see not but there may be manhood in that also."

Now was the hot wrath somewhat run off Hallblithe, nor durst he lose
any chance to hear a word of his beloved; so he said:  "Big man, I
will come aboard.  But look thou to it, if thou hast a mind to bewray
me; for the sons of the Raven die hard."

"Well," said the big man, "I have heard that their minstrels are of
many words, and think that they have tales to tell.  Come aboard and
loiter not."  Then Hallblithe waded the surf and lightly strode over
the gunwale of the skiff and sat him down.  The big man thrust out
into the deep and haled home the sheet; but there was but little
wind.

Then said Hallblithe:  "Wilt thou have me row, for I wot not
whitherward to steer?"

Said the red carle:  "Maybe thou art not in a hurry; I am not:  do as
thou wilt."  So Hallblithe took the oars and rowed mightily, while
the alien steered, and they went swiftly and lightly over the sea,
and the waves were little.



CHAPTER V:  THEY COME UNTO THE ISLE OF RANSOM



So the sun grew low, and it set; the stars and the moon shone a while
and then it clouded over.  Hallblithe still rowed and rested not,
though he was weary; and the big man sat and steered, and held his
peace.  But when the night was grown old and it was not far from the
dawn, the alien said:  "Youngling of the Ravens, now shalt thou sleep
and I will row."

Hallblithe was exceeding weary; so he gave the oars to the alien and
lay down in the stern and slept.  And in his sleep he dreamed that he
was lying in the House of the Raven, and his sisters came to him and
said, "Rise up now, Hallblithe! wilt thou be a sluggard on the day of
thy wedding?  Come thou with us to the House of the Rose that we may
bear away the Hostage."  Then he dreamed that they departed, and he
arose and clad himself:  but when he would have gone out of the hall,
then was it no longer daylight, but moonlight, and he dreamed that he
had dreamed:  nevertheless he would have gone abroad, but might not
find the door; so he said he would go out by a window; but the wall
was high and smooth (quite other than in the House of the Raven,
where were low windows all along one aisle), nor was there any way to
come at them.  But he dreamed that he was so abashed thereat, and had
such a weakness on him, that he wept for pity of himself:  and he
went to his bed to lie down; and lo! there was no bed and no hall;
nought but a heath, wild and wide, and empty under the moon.  And
still he wept in his dream, and his manhood seemed departed from him,
and he heard a voice crying out, "Is this the Land?  Is this the
Land?"

Therewithal he awoke, and as his eyes cleared he beheld the big man
rowing and the black sail flapping against the mast; for the wind had
fallen dead and they were faring on over a long smooth swell of the
sea.  It was broad daylight, but round about them was a thick mist,
which seemed none the less as if the sun were ready to shine through
it.

As Hallblithe caught the red man's eye, he smiled and nodded on him
and said:  "Now has the time come for thee first to eat and then to
row.  But tell me what is that upon thy cheeks?"

Hallblithe, reddening somewhat, said:  "The night dew hath fallen on
me."

Quoth the sea-rover, "It is no shame for thee a youngling to remember
thy betrothed in thy sleep, and to weep because thou lackest her.
But now bestir thee, for it is later than thou mayest deem."

Therewith the big man drew in the oars and came to the afterpart of
the boat, and drew meat and drink out of a locker thereby; and they
ate and drank together, and Hallblithe grew strong and somewhat less
downcast; and he went forward and gat the oars into his hands.

Then the big red man stood up and looked over his left shoulder and
said:  "Soon shall we have a breeze and bright weather."

Then he looked into the midmost of the sail and fell a-whistling such
a tune as the fiddles play to dancing men and maids at Yule-tide, and
his eyes gleamed and glittered therewithal, and exceeding big he
looked.  Then Hallblithe felt a little air on his cheek, and the mist
grew thinner, and the sail began to fill with wind till the sheet
tightened:  then, lo! the mist rising from the face of the sea, and
the sea's face rippling gaily under a bright sun.  Then the wind
increased, and the wall of mist departed and a few light clouds sped
over the sky, and the sail swelled and the boat heeled over, and the
seas fell white from the prow, and they sped fast over the face of
the waters.

Then laughed the red-haired man, and said:  "O croaker on the dead
branch, now is the wind such that no rowing of thine may catch up
with it:  so in with the oars now, and turn about, and thou shalt see
whitherward we are going."

Then Hallblithe turned about on the thwart and looked across the sea,
and lo! before them the high cliffs and crags and mountains of a new
land which seemed to be an isle, and they were deep blue under the
sun, which now shone aloft in the mid heaven.  He said nought at all,
but sat looking and wondering what land it might be; but the big man
said:  "O tomb of warriors, is it not as if the blueness of the deep
sea had heaved itself up aloft, and turned from coloured air into
rock and stone, so wondrous blue it is?  But that is because those
crags and mountains are so far away, and as we draw nigher to them,
thou shalt see them as they verily are, that they are coal-black; and
yonder land is an isle, and is called the Isle of Ransom.  Therein
shall be the market for thee where thou mayst cheapen thy betrothed.
There mayst thou take her by the hand and lead her away thence, when
thou hast dealt with the chapman of maidens and hast pledged thee by
the fowl of battle, and the edge of the fallow blade to pay that
which he will have of thee."

As the big man spoke there was a mocking in his voice and his face
and in his whole huge body, which made the sword of Hallblithe uneasy
in his scabbard; but he refrained his wrath, and said:  "Big man, the
longer I look, the less I can think how we are to come up on to
yonder island; for I can see nought but a huge cliff, and great
mountains rising beyond it."

"Thou shalt the more wonder," said the alien, "the nigher thou
drawest thereto; for it is not because we are far away that thou
canst see no beach or strand, or sloping of the land seaward, but
because there is nought of all these things.  Yet fear not! am I not
with thee? thou shalt come ashore on the Isle of Ransom."

Then Hallblithe held his peace, and the other spake not for a while,
but gave a short laugh once or twice; and said at last in a big
voice, "Little Carrion-biter, why dost thou not ask me of my name?"

Now Hallblithe was a tall man and a fell fighter; but he said:
"Because I was thinking of other things and not of thee."

"Well," said the big man, in a voice still louder, "when I am at home
men call me the Puny Fox."

Then Hallblithe said:  "Art thou a Fox?  It may well be that thou
shalt beguile me as such beasts will but look to it, that if thou
dost I shall know how to avenge me."

Then rose up the big man from the helm, and straddled wide in the
boat, and cried out in a great roaring voice:  "Crag-nester, I am one
of seven brethren, and the smallest and weakest of them.  Art thou
not afraid?"

"No," said Hallblithe, "for the six others are not here.  Wilt thou
fight here in boat, O Fox?"

"Nay," said Fox, "rather we will drink a cup of wine together."

So he opened the locker again and drew out thence a great horn of
some huge neat of the outlands, which was girthed and stopped with
silver, and also a golden cup, and he filled the cup from the horn
and gave it into Hallblithe's hand and said:  "Drink, O black-fledged
nestling!  But call a health over the cup if thou wilt."  So
Hallblithe raised the cup aloft and cried:  "Health to the House of
the Raven and to them that love it! an ill day to its foemen!"  Then
he set his lips to the cup and drank; and that wine seemed to him
better and stronger than any he had ever tasted.  But when he had
given the cup back again to Fox, that red one filled it again, and
cried over it, "The Treasure of the Sea! and the King that dieth
not!"  Then he drank, and filled again for Hallblithe, and steered
with his knees meanwhile; and thus they drank three cups each, and
Fox smiled and was peaceful and said but little, but Hallblithe sat
wondering how the world was changed for him since yesterday.

But now was the sky blown all clear of clouds and the wind piped
shrill behind them, and the great waves rose and fell about them, and
the sun glittered on them in many colours.  Fast flew the boat before
the wind as though it would never stop, and the day was waning, and
the wind still rising; and now the Isle of Ransom uphove huge before
them, and coal-black, and no beach and no haven was to be seen
therein; and still they ran before the wind towards that black cliff-
wall, against which the sea washed for ever, and no keel ever built
by man might live for one moment 'twixt the surf and the cliff of
that grim land.  The sun grew low, and sank red under the sea, and
that world of stone swallowed up half the heavens before them, for
they were now come very nigh thereto; nor could Hallblithe see aught
for it, but that they must be dashed against the cliff and perish in
a moment of time.

Still the boat flew on; but now when the twilight was come, and they
had just opened up along reach of the cliff that lay beyond a high
ness, Hallblithe thought he saw down by the edge of the sea something
darker than the face of the rock-wall, and he deemed it was a cave:
they came a little nearer and he saw it was a great cave high enough
to let a round-ship go in with all her sails set.

"Son of the Raven," quoth Fox, "hearken, for thy heart is not little.
Yonder is the gate into the Isle of Ransom, and if thou wilt, thou
mayst go through it.  Yet it may be that if thou goest ashore on to
the Isle something grievous shall befall thee, a trouble more than
thou canst bear:  a shame it may be.  Now there are two choices for
thee:  either to go up on to the Isle and face all; or to die here by
my hand having done nothing unmanly or shameful:  What sayest thou?"

"Thou art of many words when time so presses, Fox," said Hallblithe.
"Why should I not choose to go up on to the Island to deliver my
trothplight maiden?  For the rest, slay me if thou canst, if we come
alive out of this cauldron of waters."

Said the big red man:  "Look on then, and note Fox how he steereth,
as it were through a needle's eye."

Now were they underneath the black shadow of the black cliff and
amidst the twilight the surf was tossed about like white fire.  In
the lower heavens the stars were beginning to twinkle and the moon
was bright and yellow, and aloft all was peaceful, for no cloud
sullied the sky.  One moment Hallblithe saw all this hanging above
the turmoil of thundering water and dripping rock and the next he was
in the darkness of the cave, the roaring wind and the waves still
making thunder about him, though of a different voice from the harsh
hubbub without.  Then he heard Fox say:  "Sit down now and take the
oars, for presently shall we be at home at the landing place."

So Hallblithe took the oars and rowed, and as they went up the cave
the sea fell, and the wind died out into the aimless gustiness of
hollow places; and for a little while was all as dark as dark might
be.  Then Hallblithe saw that the darkness grew a little greyer, and
he looked over his shoulder and saw a star of light before the bows
of the boat, and Fox cried out:  "Yea, it is like day; bright will
the moon be for such as needs must be wayfaring to-night!  Cease
rowing, O Son of the coal-blue fowl, for there is way enough on her."

Then Hallblithe lay on his oars, and in a minute the bows smote the
land; then he turned about and saw a steep stair of stone, and up the
sloping shaft thereof the moonlit sky and the bright stars.  Then Fox
arose and came forward and leapt out of the boat and moored her to a
big stone:  then he leapt back again and said:  "Bear a hand with the
victuals; we must bring them out of the boat unless thou wilt sleep
supperless, as I will not.  For to-night must we be guests to
ourselves, since it is far to the dwelling of my people, and the old
man is said to be a skin-changer, a flit-by-night.  And as to this
cave, it is deemed to be nowise safe to sleep therein, unless the
sleeper have a double share of luck.  And thy luck, meseemeth, O Son
of the Raven, is as now somewhat less than a single share.  So to-
night we shall sleep under the naked heaven."

Hallblithe yea-said this, and they took the meat and drink, such as
they needed, from out the boat, and climbed the steep stair no little
way, and so came out on to a plain place, which seemed to Hallblithe
bare and waste so far as he saw it by the moonlight; for the twilight
was gone now, and nought was left of the light of day save a glimmer
in the west.

This Hallblithe deemed wonderful, that no less out on the open heath
and brow of the land than in the shut-in cave, all that tumult of the
wind had fallen, and the cloudless night was calm, and with a little
air blowing from the south and the landward.

Therewithal was Fox done with his loud-voiced braggart mood, and
spoke gently and peaceably like to a wayfarer, who hath business of
his to look to as other men.  Now he pointed to certain rocks or low
crags that a little way off rose like a reef out of the treeless
plain; then said he:  "Shipmate, underneath yonder rocks is our
resting-place for to-night; and I pray thee not to deem me churlish
that I give thee no better harbour.  But I have a charge over thee to
bring thee safe thus far on thy quest; and thou wouldst find it hard
to live among such housemates as thou wouldst find up yonder amongst
our folks to-night.  But tomorrow shalt thou come to speech with him
who will deal with thee concerning the ransom."

"It is enough," said Hallblithe, "and I thank thee for thy leading:
and as for thy rough and uncomely words which thou hast given me, I
pardon thee for them:  for I am none the worse of them:  forsooth, if
I had been, my sword would have had a voice in the matter."

"I am well content as it is, Son of the Raven," quoth Fox; "I have
done my bidding and all is well."

"Tell me then who it is hath bidden thee bring me hither?"

"I may not tell thee," said Fox; "thou art here, be content, as I
am."

And he spake no more till they had come to the reef aforesaid, which
was some two furlongs from the place where they had come from out of
the cave.  There then they set forth their supper on the stones, and
ate what they would, and drank of that good strong wine while the
horn bare out.  And now was Fox of few words, and when Hallblithe
asked him concerning that land, he had little to say.  And at last
when Hallblithe asked him of that so perilous house and those who
manned it, he said to him:

"Son of the Raven, it avails not asking of these matters; for if I
tell thee aught concerning them I shall tell thee lies.  Once again
let it be enough for thee that thou hast passed over the sea safely
on thy quest; and a more perilous sea it is forsooth than thou
deemest.  But now let us have an end of vain words, and make our bed
amidst these stones as best we may; for we should be stirring betimes
in the morning."  Hallblithe said little in answer, and they arrayed
their sleeping places cunningly, as the hare doth her form, and like
men well used to lying abroad.

Hallblithe was very weary and he soon fell asleep; and as he lay
there, he dreamed a dream, or maybe saw a vision; whether he were
asleep when he saw it, or between sleeping and waking, I know not.
But this was his dream or his vision; that the Hostage was standing
over him, and she as he had seen her but yesterday, bright-haired and
ruddy-cheeked and white-skinned, kind of hand and soft of voice, and
she said to him:  "Hallblithe, look on me and hearken, for I have a
message for thee."  And he looked and longed for her, and his soul
was ravished by the sweetness of his longing, and he would have leapt
up and cast his arms about her, but sleep and the dream bound him,
and he might not.  Then the image smiled on him and said:  "Nay, my
love, lie still, for thou mayst not touch me:  here is but the image
of the body which thou desirest.  Hearken then.  I am in evil plight,
in the hands of strong-thieves of the sea, nor know I what they will
do with me, and I have no will to be shamed; to be sold for a price
from one hand to another, yet to be bedded without a price, and to
lie beside some foe-man of our folk, and he to cast his arms about
me, will I, will I not:  this is a hard case.  Therefore to-morrow
morning at daybreak while men sleep, I think to steal forth to the
gunwale of the black ship and give myself to the gods, that they and
not these runagates may be masters of my life and my soul, and may do
with me as they will:  for indeed they know that I may not bear the
strange kinless house, and the love and caressing of the alien house-
master, and the mocking and stripes of the alien house-mistress.
Therefore let the Hoary One of the sea take me and look to my
matters, and carry me to life or death, which-so he will.  Thin now
grows the night, but lie still a little yet, while I speak another
word.

"Maybe we shall meet alive again, and maybe not:  and if not, though
we have never yet lain in one bed together, yet I would have thee
remember me:  yet not so that my image shall come between thee and
thy speech-friend and bed-fellow of the kindred, that shall lie where
I was to have lain.  Yet again, if I live and thou livest, I have
been told and have heard that by one way or other I am like to come
to the Glittering Plain, and the Land of Living Men.  O my beloved,
if by any way thou mightest come thither also, and we might meet
there, and we two alive, how good it were!  Seek that land then,
beloved! seek it, whether or no we once more behold the House of the
Rose, or tread the floor of the Raven dwelling.  And now must even
this image of me sunder from thee.  Farewell!"

Therewith was the dream done and the vision departed; and Hallblithe
sat up full of anguish and longing; and he looked about him over the
dreary land, and it was somewhat light and the sky was grown grey and
cloudy, and he deemed that the dawn was come.  So he leapt to his
feet and stooped down over Fox, and took him by the shoulder, and
shook him and said:  "Faring-fellow, awake! the dawn is come, and we
have much to do."

Fox sat up and growled like a dog, and rubbed his eyes and looked
about him and said:  "Thou hast waked me for nought:  it is the false
dawn of the moon that shineth now behind the clouds and casteth no
shadow; it is but an hour after midnight.  Go to sleep again, and let
me be, else will I not be a guide to thee when the day comes."  And
he lay down and was asleep at once.  Then Hallblithe went and lay
down again full of sorrow:  Yet so weary was he that he presently
fell asleep, and dreamed no more.



CHAPTER VI:  OF A DWELLING OF MAN ON THE ISLE OF RANSOM



When he awoke again the sun shone on him, and the morning was calm
and windless.  He sat up and looked about him, but could see no signs
of Fox save the lair wherein he had lain.  So he arose to his feet
and sought for him about the crannies of the rocks, and found him
not; and he shouted for him, and had no answer.  Then he said,
"Belike he has gone down to the boat to put a thing in, or take a
thing out."  So he went his ways to the stair down into the water-
cave, and he called on Fox from the top of the stair, and had no
answer.

So he went down that long stair with a misgiving in his heart, and
when he came to the last step there was neither man nor boat, nor
aught else save the water and the living rock.  Then was he exceeding
wroth, for he knew that he had been beguiled, and he was in an evil
case, left alone on an Isle that he knew not, a waste and desolate
land, where it seemed most like he should die of famine.

He wasted no breath or might now in crying out for Fox, or seeking
him; for he said to himself:  "I might well have known that he was
false and a liar, whereas he could scarce refrain his joy at my folly
and his guile.  Now is it for me to strive for life against death."

Then he turned and went slowly up the stair, and came out on to the
open face of that Isle, and he saw that it was waste indeed, and
dreadful:  a wilderness of black sand and stones and ice-borne rocks,
with here and there a little grass growing in the hollows, and here
and there a dreary mire where the white-tufted rushes shook in the
wind, and here and there stretches of moss blended with red-blossomed
sengreen; and otherwhere nought but the wind-bitten creeping willow
clinging to the black sand, with a white bleached stick and a leaf or
two, and again a stick and a leaf.  In the offing looking landward
were great mountains, some very great and snow-capped, some bare to
the tops; and all that was far away, save the snow, was deep-blue in
the sunny morning.  But about him on the heath were scattered rocks
like the reef beneath which he had slept the last night, and peaks,
and hammers, and knolls of uncouth shapes.

Then he went to the edge of the cliffs and looked down on the sea
which lay wrinkled and rippling on toward the shore far below him,
and long he gazed thereon and all about, but could see neither ship
nor sail, nor aught else save the washing of waves and the hovering
of sea fowl.

Then he said:  "Were it not well if I were to seek that house-master
of whom Fox spake?  Might he not flit me at least to the Land of the
Glittering Plain?  Woe is me! now am I of that woful company, and I
also must needs cry out, Where is the land?  Where is the land?"

Therewith he turned toward the reef above their lair, but as he went
he thought and said:  "Nay, but was not this Stead a lie like the
rest of Fox's tale? and am I not alone in this sea-girt wilderness?
Yea, and even that image of my Beloved which I saw in the dream,
perchance that also was a mere beguiling; for now I see that the Puny
Fox was in all ways wiser than is meet and comely."  Yet again he
said:  "At least I will seek on, and find out whether there be
another man dwelling on this hapless Isle, and then the worst of it
will be battle with him, and death by point and edge rather than by
hunger; or at the best we may become friends and fellows and deliver
each other."  Therewith he came to the reef, and with much ado
climbed to the topmost of its rocks and looked down thence landward:
and betwixt him and the mountains, and by seeming not very far off,
he saw smoke arising:  but no house he saw, nor any other token of a
dwelling.  So he came down from the stone and turned his back upon
the sea and went toward that smoke with his sword in its sheath, and
his spear over his shoulder.  Rough and toilsome was the way:  three
little dales he crossed amidst the mountain necks, each one narrow
and bare, with a stream of water amidst, running seaward, and whether
in dale or on ridge, he went ever amidst sand and stones, and the
weeds of the wilderness, and saw no man, or man-tended beast.

At last, after he had been four hours on the way, but had not gone
very far, he topped a stony bent, and from the brow thereof beheld a
wide valley grass-grown for the more part, with a river running
through it, and sheep and kine and horses feeding up and down it.
And amidst this dale by the stream-side, was a dwelling of men, a
long hall and other houses about it builded of stone.

Then was Hallblithe glad, and he strode down the bent speedily, his
war-gear clashing upon him:  and as he came to the foot thereof and
on to the grass of the dale, he got amongst the pasturing horses, and
passed close by the horse-herd and a woman that was with him.  They
scowled at him as he went by, but meddled not with him in any way.
Although they were giant-like of stature and fierce of face, they
were not ill-favoured:  they were red-haired, and the woman as white
as cream where the sun had not burned her skin; they had no weapons
that Hallblithe might see save the goad in the hand of the carle.

So Hallblithe passed on and came to the biggest house, the hall
aforesaid:  it was very long, and low as for its length, not over
shapely of fashion, a mere gabled heap of stones.  Low and strait was
the door thereinto, and as Hallblithe entered stooping lowly, and the
fire of the steel of his spear that he held before him was quenched
in the mirk of the hall, he smiled and said to himself:  "Now if
there were one anigh who would not have me enter alive, and he with a
weapon in his hand, soon were all the tale told."  But he got into
the hall unsmitten, and stood on the floor thereof, and spake:  "The
sele of the day to whomsoever is herein!  Will any man speak to the
new comer?"

But none answered or gave him greeting; and as his eyes got used to
the dusk of the hall, he looked about him, and neither on the floor
or the high seat nor in any ingle could he see a man; and there was
silence there, save for the crackling of the flickering flame on the
hearth amidmost, and the running of the rats behind the panelling of
the walls.

On one side of the hall was a row of shut-beds, and Hallblithe deemed
that there might be men therein; but since none had greeted him he
refrained him from searching them for fear of a trap, and he thought,
"I will abide amidst the floor, and if there be any that would deal
with me, friend or foe, let him come hither to me."

So he fell to walking up and down the hall from buttery to dais, and
his war-gear rattled upon him.  At last as he walked he thought he
heard a small thin peevish voice, which yet was too husky for the
squeak of a rat.  So he stayed his walk and stood still, and said:
"Will any man speak to Hallblithe, a newcomer, and a stranger in this
Stead?"

Then that small voice made a word and said:  "Why paceth the fool up
and down our hall, doing nothing, even as the Ravens flap croaking
about the crags, abiding the war-mote and the clash of the fallow
blades?"

Said Hallblithe, and his voice sounded big in the hall:  "Who calleth
Hallblithe a fool and mocketh at the sons of the Raven?"

Spake the voice:  "Why cometh not the fool to the man that may not go
to him?"

Then Hallblithe bent forward to hearken, and he deemed that the voice
came from one of the shut-beds, so he leaned his spear against a
pillar, and went into the shut-bed he had noted, and saw where there
lay along in it a man exceeding old by seeming, sore wasted, with
long hair as white as snow lying over the bed-clothes.

When the elder saw Hallblithe, he laughed a thin cracked laugh as if
in mockery and said:  "Hail newcomer! wilt thou eat?"

"Yea," said Hallblithe.

"Go thou into the buttery then," said the old carle, "and there shalt
thou find on the cupboard cakes and curds and cheese:  eat thy fill,
and when thou hast done, look in the ingle, and thou shalt see a cask
of mead exceeding good, and a stoup thereby, and two silver cups;
fill the stoup and bring it hither with the cups; and then may we
talk amidst of drinking, which is good for an old carle.  Hasten
thou! or I shall deem thee a double fool who will not fare to fetch
his meat, though he be hungry."

Then Hallblithe laughed, and went down the hall into the buttery and
found the meat, and ate his fill, and came away with the drink back
to the Long-hoary man, who chuckled as he came and said:  "Fill up
now for thee and for me, and call a health to me and wish me
somewhat."

"I wish thee luck," said Hallblithe, and drank.  Said the elder:
"And I wish thee more wits; is luck all that thou mayst wish me?
What luck may an outworn elder have?"

"Well then," quoth Hallblithe, "what shall I wish thee?  Wouldst thou
have me wish thee youth?"

"Yea, certes," said the Long-hoary, "that and nought else."

"Youth then I wish thee, if it may avail thee aught," said
Hallblithe, and he drank again therewith.

"Nay, nay," said the old carle peevishly, "take a third cup, and wish
me youth with no idle words tacked thereto."

Said Hallblithe raising the cup:  "Herewith I wish thee youth!" and
he drank.

"Good is the wish," said the elder; "now ask thou the old carle
whatso thou wilt."

Said Hallblithe:  "What is this land called?"

"Son," said the other, "hast thou heard it called the Isle of
Ransom?"

"Yea," said Hallblithe, "but what wilt thou call it?"

"By no other name," said the hoary carle.

"It is far from other lands?" said Hallblithe.

"Yea," said the carle, "when the light winds blow, and the ships sail
slow."

"What do ye who live here?" said Hallblithe.  "How do ye live, what
work win ye?"

"We win diverse work," said the elder, "but the gainfullest is
robbing men by the high hand."

"Is it ye who have stolen from me the Hostage of the Rose?" said
Hallblithe.

Said the Long-hoary, "Maybe; I wot not; in diverse ways my kinsmen
traffic, and they visit many lands.  Why should they not have come to
Cleveland also?"

"Is she in this Isle, thou old runagate?" said Hallblithe.

"She is not, thou young fool," said the elder.  Then Hallblithe
flushed red and spake:  "Knowest thou the Puny Fox?"

"How should I not?" said the carle, "since he is the son of one of my
sons."

"Dost thou call him a liar and a rogue?" said Hallblithe.

The elder laughed; "Else were I a fool," said he; "there are few
bigger liars or bigger rogues than the Puny Fox!"

"Is he here in this Isle?" said Hallblithe; "may I see him?"

The old man laughed again, and said:  "Nay, he is not here, unless he
hath turned fool since yesterday:  why should he abide thy sword,
since he hath done what he would and brought thee hither?"

Then he laughed, as a hen cackles a long while, and then said:  "What
more wilt thou ask me?"

But Hallblithe was very wroth:  "It availeth nought to ask," he said;
"and now I am in two minds whether I shall slay thee or not."

"That were a meet deed for a Raven, but not for a man," said the
carle, "and thou that hast wished me luck!  Ask, ask!"

But Hallblithe was silent a long while.  Then the carle said,
"Another cup for the longer after youth!"

Hallblithe filled, and gave to him, and the old man drank and said:
"Thou deemest us all liars in the Isle of Ransom because of thy
beguiling by the Puny Fox:  but therein thou errest.  The Puny Fox is
our chiefest liar, and doth for us the more part of such work as we
need:  therefore, why should we others lie.  Ask, ask!"

"Well then," said Hallblithe, "why did the Puny Fox bewray me, and at
whose bidding?"

Said the elder:  "I know, but I will not tell thee.  Is this a lie?"

"Nay, I deem it not," said Hallblithe:  "But, tell me, is it verily
true that my trothplight is not here, that I may ransom her?"

Said the Long-hoary:  "I swear it by the Treasure of the Sea, that
she is not here:  the tale was but a lie of the Puny Fox."



CHAPTER VII:  A FEAST IN THE ISLE OF RANSOM



Hallblithe pondered his answer awhile with downcast eyes and said at
last:  "Have ye a mind to ransom me, now that I have walked into the
trap?"

"There is no need to talk of ransom," said the elder; "thou mayst go
out of this house when thou wilt, nor will any meddle with thee if
thou strayest about the Isle, when I have set a mark on thee and
given thee a token:  nor wilt thou be hindered if thou hast a mind to
leave the Isle, if thou canst find means thereto; moreover as long as
thou art in the Isle, in this house mayst thou abide, eating and
drinking and resting with us."

"How then may I leave this Isle?" said Hallblithe.

The elder laughed:  "In a ship," said he.

"And when," said Hallblithe, "shall I find a ship that shall carry
me?"

Said the old carle, "Whither wouldest thou my son?"  Hallblithe was
silent a while, thinking what answer he should make; then he said:
"I would go to the land of the Glittering Plain."

"Son, a ship shall not be lacking thee for that voyage," said the
elder.  "Thou mayst go to-morrow morn.  And I bid thee abide here to-
night, and thy cheer shall not be ill.  Yet if thou wilt believe my
word, it will be well for thee to say as little as thou mayst to any
man here, and that little as little proud as maybe:  for our folk are
short of temper and thou knowest there is no might against many.
Indeed it is not unlike that they will not speak one word to thee,
and if that be so, thou hast no need to open thy mouth to them.  And
now I will tell thee that it is good that thou hast chosen to go to
the Glittering Plain.  For if thou wert otherwise minded, I wot not
how thou wouldest get thee a keel to carry thee, and the wings have
not yet begun to sprout on thy shoulders, raven though thou be.  Now
I am glad that thou art going thy ways to the Glittering Plain to-
morrow; for thou wilt be good company to me on the way:  and I deem
that thou wilt be no churl when thou art glad."

"What," said Hallblithe, "art thou wending thither, thou old man?"

"Yea," said he, "nor shall any other be on the ship save thou and I,
and the mariners that waft us; and they forsooth shall not go aland
there.  Why should not I go, since there are men to bear me aboard?"

Said Hallblithe, "And when thou art come aland there, what wilt thou
do?"

"Thou shalt see, my son," said the Long-hoary.  "It may be that thy
good wishes shall be of avail to me.  But now since all this may only
be if I live through this night, and since my heart hath been warmed
by the good mead, and thy fellowship, and whereas I am somewhat
sleepy, and it is long past noon, go forth into the hall, and leave
me to sleep, that I may be as sound as eld will let me to-morrow.
And as for thee, folk, both men and women, shall presently come into
the hall, and I deem not that any shall meddle with thee; but if so
be that any challenge thee, whatsoever may be his words, answer thou
to him, 'THE HOUSE OF THE UNDYING,' and there will be an end of it.
Only look thou to it that no naked steel cometh out of thy scabbard.
Go now, and if thou wilt, go out of doors; yet art thou safer within
doors and nigher unto me."

So Hallblithe went back into the main hall, and the sun had gotten
round now, and was shining into the hall, through the clerestory
windows, so that he saw clearly all that was therein.  And he deemed
the hall fairer within than without; and especially over the shut-
beds were many stories carven in the panelling, and Hallblithe beheld
them gladly.  But of one thing he marvelled, that whereas he was in
an island of the strong-thieves of the waters, and in their very home
and chiefest habitation, there were no ships or seas pictured in that
imagery, but fair groves and gardens, with flowery grass and fruited
trees all about.  And there were fair women abiding therein, and
lovely young men, and warriors, and strange beasts and many marvels,
and the ending of wrath and beginning of pleasure and the crowning of
love.  And amidst these was pictured oft and again a mighty king with
a sword by his side and a crown on his head; and ever was he smiling
and joyous, so that Hallblithe, when he looked on him, felt of better
heart and smiled back on the carven image.

So while Hallblithe looked on these things, and pondered his case
carefully, all alone as he was in that alien hall, he heard a noise
without of talking and laughter, and presently the pattering of feet
therewith, and then women came into the hall, a score or more, some
young, some old, some fair enough, and some hard-featured and
uncomely, but all above the stature of the women whom he had seen in
his own land.

So he stood amidst the hall-floor and abided them; and they saw him
and his shining war-gear, and ceased their talking and laughter, and
drew round about him, and gazed at him; but none said aught till an
old crone came forth from the ring, and said "Who art thou, standing
under weapons in our hall?"

He knew not what to answer, and held his peace; and she spake again:
"Whither wouldest thou, what seekest thou?"

Then answered Hallblithe:  "THE HOUSE OF THE UNDYING."

None answered, and the other women all fell away from him at once,
and went about their business hither and thither through the hall.
But the old crone took him by the hand, and led him up to the dais,
and set him next to the midmost high-seat.  Then she made as if she
would do off his war-gear, and he would not gainsay her, though he
deemed that foes might be anear; for in sooth he trusted in the old
carle that he would not bewray him, and moreover he deemed it would
be unmanly not to take the risks of the guesting, according to the
custom of that country.

So she took his armour and his weapons and bore them off to a shut-
bed next to that wherein lay the ancient man, and she laid the gear
within it, all save the spear, which she laid on the wall-pins above;
and she made signs to him that therein he was to lie; but she spake
no word to him.  Then she brought him the hand-washing water in a
basin of latten, and a goodly towel therewith, and when he had washed
she went away from him, but not far.

This while the other women were busy about the hall; some swept the
floor down, and when it was swept strawed thereon rushes and handfuls
of wild thyme:  some went into the buttery and bore forth the boards
and the trestles:  some went to the chests and brought out the rich
hangings, the goodly bankers and dorsars, and did them on the walls:
some bore in the stoups and horns and beakers, and some went their
ways and came not back a while, for they were busied about the
cooking.  But whatever they did, none hailed him, or heeded him more
than if he had been an image, as he sat there looking on.  None save
the old woman who brought him the fore-supper, to wit a great horn of
mead, and cakes and dried fish.

So was the hall arrayed for the feast very fairly, and Hallblithe sat
there while the sun westered and the house grew dim, and dark at
last, and they lighted the candles up and down the hall.  But a
little after these were lit, a great horn was winded close without,
and thereafter came the clatter of arms about the door, and exceeding
tall weaponed men came in, one score and five, and strode two by two
up to the foot of the dais, and stood there in a row.  And Hallblithe
deemed their war-gear exceeding good; they were all clad in ring-
locked byrnies, and had steel helms on their heads with garlands of
gold wrought about them and they bore spears in their hands, and
white shields hung at their backs.  Now came the women to them and
unarmed them; and under their armour their raiment was black; but
they had gold rings on their arms, and golden collars about their
necks.  So they strode up to the dais and took their places on the
high-seat, not heeding Hallblithe any more than if he were an image
of wood.  Nevertheless that man sat next to him who was the chieftain
of all and sat in the midmost high-seat; and he bore his sheathed
sword in his hand and laid it on the board before him, and he was the
only man of those chieftains who had a weapon.

But when these were set down there was again a noise without, and
there came in a throng of men armed and unarmed who took their places
on the end-long benches up and down the hall; with these came women
also, who most of them sat amongst the men, but some busied them with
the serving:  all these men were great of stature, but none so big as
the chieftains on the high-seat.

Now came the women in from the kitchen bearing the meat, whereof no
little was flesh-meat, and all was of the best.  Hallblithe was duly
served like the others, but still none spake to him or even looked on
him; though amongst themselves they spoke in big, rough voices so
that the rafters of the hall rang again.

When they had eaten their fill the women filled round the cups and
the horns to them, and those vessels were both great and goodly.  But
ere they fell to drinking uprose the chieftain who sat furthest from
the midmost high-seat on the right and cried a health:  "THE TREASURE
OF THE SEA!"  Then they all stood up and shouted, women as well as
men, and emptied their horns and cups to that health.  Then stood up
the man furthest on the left and cried out, "Drink a health to the
Undying King!"  And again all men rose up and shouted ere they drank.
Other healths they drank, as the "Cold Keel," the "Windworn Sail,"
the "Quivering Ash" and the "Furrowed Beach."  And the wine and mead
flowed like rivers in that hall of the Wild Men.  As for Hallblithe,
he drank what he would but stood not up, nor raised his cup to his
lips when a health was drunk; for he knew not whether these men were
his friends or his foes, and he deemed it would be little-minded to
drink to their healths, lest he might be drinking death and confusion
to his own kindred.

But when men had drunk a while, again a horn blew at the nether end
of the hall, and straightway folk arose from the endlong tables, and
took away the boards and trestles, and cleared the floor and stood
against the wall; then the big chieftain beside Hallblithe arose and
cried out:  "Now let man dance with maid, and be we merry!  Music,
strike up!"  Then flew the fiddle-bows and twanged the harps, and the
carles and queens stood forth on the floor; and all the women were
clad in black raiment, albeit embroidered with knots and wreaths of
flowers.  A while they danced and then suddenly the music fell, and
they all went back to their places.  Then the chieftain in the high-
seat arose and took a horn from his side, and blew a great blast on
it that filled the hall; then he cried in a loud voice:  "Be we
merry!  Let the champions come forth!"

Men shouted gleefully thereat, and straightway ran into the hall from
out the screens three tall men clad all in black armour with naked
swords in their hands, and stood amidst the hall-floor, somewhat on
one side, and clashed their swords on their shields and cried out:
"Come forth ye Champions of the Raven!"

Then leapt Hallblithe from his seat and set his hand to his left
side, but no sword was there; so he sat down again, remembering the
warning of the Elder, and none heeded him.

Then there came into the hall slowly and mournfully three men-at-
arms, clad and weaponed like the warriors of his folk, with the image
of the Raven on their helms and shields.  So Hallblithe refrained
him, for besides that this seemed like to be a fair battle of three
against three, he doubted some snare, and he determined to look on
and abide.

So the champions fell to laying on strokes that were no child's play,
though Hallblithe doubted if the edges bit, and it was but a little
while before the Champions of the Raven fell one after another before
the Wild Men, and folk drew them by the heels out into the buttery.
Then arose great laughter and jeering, and exceeding wroth was
Hallblithe; howbeit he refrained him because he remembered all he had
to do.  But the three Champions of the Sea strode round the hall,
tossing up their swords and catching them as they fell, while the
horns blew up behind them.

After a while the hall grew hushed, and the chieftain arose and
cried:  "Bring in now some sheaves of the harvest we win, we lads of
the oar and the arrow!"  Then was there a stir at the screen doors,
and folk pressed forward to see, and, lo, there came forward a string
of women, led in by two weaponed carles; and the women were a score
in number, and they were barefoot and their hair hung loose and their
gowns were ungirt, and they were chained together wrist to wrist; yet
had they gold at arm and neck:  there was silence in the hall when
they stood amidst of the floor.

Then indeed Hallblithe could not refrain himself, and he leapt from
his seat and on to the board, and over it, and ran down the hall, and
came to those women and looked them in the face one by one, while no
man spake in the hall.  But the Hostage was not amongst them; nay
forsooth, they none of them favoured of the daughters of his people,
though they were comely and fair; so that again Hallblithe doubted if
this were aught but a feast-hall play done to anger him; whereas
there was but little grief in the faces of those damsels, and more
than one of them smiled wantonly in his face as he looked on them.

So he turned about and went back to his seat, having said no word,
and behind him arose much mocking and jeering; but it angered him
little now; for he remembered the rede of the elder and how that he
had done according to his bidding, so that he deemed the gain was
his.  So sprang up talk in the hall betwixt man and man, and folk
drank about and were merry, till the chieftain arose again and smote
the board with the flat of his sword, and cried out in a loud and
angry voice, so that all could hear:  "Now let there be music and
minstrelsy ere we wend bedward!"

Therewith fell the hubbub of voices, and there came forth three men
with great harps, and a fourth man with them, who was the minstrel;
and the harpers smote their harps so that the roof rang therewith,
and the noise, though it was great, was tuneable, and when they had
played thus a little while, they abated their loudness somewhat, and
the minstrel lifted his voice and sang:


The land lies black
With winter's lack,
The wind blows cold
Round field and fold;
All folk are within,
And but weaving they win.
Where from finger to finger the shuttle flies fast,
And the eyes of the singer look fain on the cast,
As he singeth the story of summer undone
And the barley sheaves hoary ripe under the sun.

Then the maidens stay
The light-hung sley,
And the shuttles bide
By the blue web's side,
While hand in hand
With the carles they stand.
But ere to the measure the fiddles strike up,
And the elders yet treasure the last of the cup,
There stand they a-hearkening the blast from the lift,
And e'en night is a-darkening more under the drift.

There safe in the hall
They bless the wall,
And the roof o'er head,
Of the valiant stead;
And the hands they praise
Of the olden days.
Then through the storm's roaring the fiddles break out,
And they think not of warring, but cast away doubt,
And, man before maiden, their feet tread the floor,
And their hearts are unladen of all that they bore.

But what winds are o'er-cold
For the heart of the bold?
What seas are o'er-high
For the undoomed to die?
Dark night and dread wind,
But the haven we find.
Then ashore mid the flurry of stone-washing surf!
Cloud-hounds the moon worry, but light lies the turf;
Lo the long dale before us! the lights at the end,
Though the night darkens o'er us, bid whither to wend.

Who beateth the door
By the foot-smitten floor?
What guests are these
From over the seas?
Take shield and sword
For their greeting-word.
Lo, lo, the dance ended!  Lo, midst of the hall
The fallow blades blended!  Lo, blood on the wall!
Who liveth, who dieth?  O men of the sea,
For peace the folk crieth; our masters are ye.

Now the dale lies grey
At the dawn of day;
And fair feet pass
O'er the wind-worn grass;
And they turn back to gaze
On the roof of old days.
Come tread ye the oaken-floored hall of the sea!
Be your hearts yet unbroken; so fair as ye be,
That kings are abiding unwedded to gain
The news of our riding the steeds of the main.


Much shouting and laughter arose at the song's end; and men sprang up
and waved their swords above the cups, while Hallblithe sat scowling
down on their merriment.  Lastly arose the chieftain and called out
loudly for the good-night cup, and it went round and all men drank.
Then the horn blew for bed, and the chieftains went to their
chambers, and the others went to the out-bowers or laid them down on
the hall-floor, and in a little while none stood upright thereon.  So
Hallblithe arose, and went to the shut-bed appointed for him, and
laid him down and slept dreamlessly till the morning.



CHAPTER VIII:  HALLBLITHE TAKETH SHIP AGAIN AWAY FROM THE ISLE OF
RANSOM



When he awoke, the sun shone into the hall by the windows above the
buttery, and there were but few folk left therein.  But so soon as
Hallblithe was clad, the old woman came to him, and took him by the
hand, and led him to the board, and signed to him to eat of what was
thereon; and he did so; and by then he was done, came folk who went
into the shut-bed where lay the Long-hoary, and they brought him
forth bed and all and bare him out a-doors.  Then the crone brought
Hallblithe his arms and he did on byrny and helm, girt his sword to
his side, took his spear in his hand and went out a-doors; and there
close by the porch lay the Long-hoary upon a horse-litter.  So
Hallblithe came up to him and gave him the sele of the day:  and the
elder said:  "Good morrow, son, I am glad to see thee.  Did they try
thee hard last night?"

And Hallblithe saw two of the carles that had borne out the elder,
that they were talking together, and they looked on him and laughed
mockingly; so he said to the elder:  "Even fools may try a wise man,
and so it befell last night.  Yet, as thou seest, mumming hath not
slain me."

Said the old man:  "What thou sawest was not all mumming; it was done
according to our customs; and well nigh all of it had been done, even
hadst thou not been there.  Nay, I will tell thee; at some of our
feasts it is not lawful to eat either for the chieftains or the
carles, till a champion hath given forth a challenge, and been
answered and met, and the battle fought to an end.  But ye men, what
hindereth you to go to the horses' heads and speed on the road the
chieftain who is no longer way-worthy?"

So they ran to the horses and set down the dale by the riverside, and
just as Hallblithe was going to follow afoot, there came a swain from
behind the house leading a red horse which he brought to Hallblithe
as one who bids mount.  So Hallblithe leapt into the saddle and at
once caught up with the litter of the Long-hoary down along the
river.  They passed by no other house, save here and there a cot
beside some fold or byre; they went easily, for the way was smooth by
the river-side; so in less than two hours they came where the said
river ran into the sea.  There was no beach there, for the water was
ten fathom deep close up to the lip of the land; but there was a
great haven land-locked all but a narrow outgate betwixt the sheer
black cliffs.  Many a great ship might have lain in that haven; but
as now there was but one lying there, a round-ship not very great,
but exceeding trim and meet for the sea.

There without more ado the carles took the elder from the litter and
bore him aboard, and Hallblithe followed him as if he had been so
appointed.  They laid the old man adown on the poop under a tilt of
precious web, and so went aback by the way that they had come; and
Hallblithe went and sat down beside the Long-hoary, who spake to him
and said:  "Seest thou, son, how easy it is for us twain to be
shipped for the land whither we would go?  But as easy as it is for
thee to go thither whereas we are going, just so hard had it been for
thee to go elsewhere.  Moreover I must tell thee that though many an
one of the Isle of Ransom desireth to go this voyage, there shall
none else go, till the world is a year older, and he who shall go
then shall be likest to me in all ways, both in eld and in
feebleness, and in gibing speech, and all else; and now that I am
gone, his name shall be the same as that whereby ye may call me to-
day, and that is Grandfather.  Art thou glad or sorry, Hallblithe?"

"Grandfather," said Hallblithe, "I can scarce tell thee:  I move as
one who hath no will to wend one way or other.  Meseems I am drawn to
go thither whereas we are going; therefore I deem that I shall find
my beloved on the Glittering Plain:  and whatever befalleth
afterward, let it be as it will!"

"Tell me, my son," said the Grandfather, "how many women are there in
the world?"

"How may I tell thee?" said Hallblithe.

"Well, then," said the elder, "how many exceeding fair women are
there?"

Said Hallblithe, "Indeed I wot not."

"How many of such hast thou seen?" said the Grandfather.

"Many," said Hallblithe; "the daughters of my folk are fair, and
there will be many other such amongst the aliens."

Then laughed the elder, and said:  "Yet, my son, he who had been thy
fellow since thy sundering from thy beloved, would have said that in
thy deeming there is but one woman in the world; or at least one fair
woman:  is it not so?"

Then Hallblithe reddened at first, as though he were angry; then he
said:  "Yea, it is so."

Said the Grandfather in a musing way:  "I wonder if before long I
shall think of it as thou dost."

Then Hallblithe gazed at him marvelling, and studied to see wherein
lay the gibe against himself; and the Grandfather beheld him, and
laughed as well as he might, and said:  "Son, son; didst thou not
wish me youth?"

"Yea," said Hallblithe, "but what ails thee to laugh so?  What is it
I have said or done?"

"Nought, nought," said the elder, laughing still more, "only thou
lookest so mazed.  And who knoweth what thy wish may bring forth?"

Thereat was Hallblithe sore puzzled; but while he set himself to
consider what the old carle might mean, uprose the hale and how of
the mariners; they cast off the hawsers from the shore, ran out the
sweeps, and drave the ship through the haven-gates.  It was a bright
sunny day; within, the green water was oily-smooth, without the
rippling waves danced merrily under a light breeze, and Hallblithe
deemed the wind to be fair; for the mariners shouted joyously and
made all sail on the ship; and she lay over and sped through the
waves, casting off the seas from her black bows.  Soon were they
clear of those swart cliffs, and it was but a little afterwards that
the Isle of Ransom was grown deep blue behind them and far away.



CHAPTER IX:  THEY COME TO THE LAND OF THE GLITTERING PLAIN



As in the hall, so in the ship, Hallblithe noted that the folk were
merry and of many words one with another, while to him no man cast a
word save the Grandfather.  As to Hallblithe, though he wondered much
what all this betokened, and what the land was whereto he was
wending, he was no man to fear an unboded peril; and he said to
himself that whatever else betid, he should meet the Hostage on the
Glittering Plain; so his heart rose and he was of good cheer, and as
the Grandfather had foretold, he was a merry faring-fellow to him.
Many a gibe the old man cast at him, and whiles Hallblithe gave him
back as good as he took, and whiles he laughed as the stroke went
home and silenced him; and whiles he understood nought of what the
elder said.  So wore the day and still the wind held fair, though it
was light; and the sun set in a sky nigh cloudless, and there was
nowhere any forecast of peril.  But when night was come, Hallblithe
lay down on a fair bed, which was dight for him in the poop, and he
soon fell asleep and dreamed not save such dreams as are but made up
of bygone memories, and betoken nought, and are not remembered.

When he awoke, day lay broad on the sea, and the waves were little,
the sky had but few clouds, the sun shone bright, and the air was
warm and sweet-breathed.

He looked aside and saw the old man sitting up in his bed, as ghastly
as a dead man dug up again:  his bushy eyebrows were wrinkled over
his bleared old eyes, the long white hair dangled forlorn from his
gaunt head:  yet was his face smiling and he looked as happy as the
soul within him could make the half-dead body.  He turned now to
Hallblithe and said:

"Thou art late awake:  hadst thou been waking earlier, the sooner had
thine heart been gladdened.  Go forward now, and gaze thy fill and
come and tell me thereof."

"Thou art happy, Grandfather," said Hallblithe, "what good tidings
hath morn brought us?"

"The Land! the Land!" said the Long-hoary; "there are no longer tears
in this old body, else should I be weeping for joy."

Said Hallblithe:  "Art thou going to meet some one who shall make
thee glad before thou diest, old man?"

"Some one?" said the elder; "what one?  Are they not all gone?
burned, and drowned, and slain and died abed?  Some one, young man?
Yea, forsooth some one indeed!  Yea, the great warrior of the Wasters
of the Shore; the Sea-eagle who bore the sword and the torch and the
terror of the Ravagers over the coal-blue sea.  It is myself, MYSELF
that I shall find on the Land of the Glittering Plain, O young
lover!"

Hallblithe looked on him wondering as he raised his wasted arms
towards the bows of the ship pitching down the slope of the sunlit
sea, or climbing up it.  Then again the old man fell back on his bed
and muttered:  "What fool's work is this! that thou wilt draw me on
to talk loud, and waste my body with lack of patience.  I will talk
with thee no more, lest my heart swell and break, and quench the
little spark of life within me."

Then Hallblithe arose to his feet, and stood looking at him,
wondering so much at his words, that for a while he forgat the land
which they were nearing, though he had caught glimpses of it, as the
bows of the round-ship fell downward into the hollow of the sea.  The
wind was but light, as hath been said, and the waves little under it,
but there was still a smooth swell of the sea which came of breezes
now dead, and the ship wallowed thereon and sailed but slowly.

In a while the old man opened his eyes again, and said in a low
peevish voice:  "Why standest thou staring at me? why hast thou not
gone forward to look upon the land?  True it is that ye Ravens are
short of wits."

Said Hallblithe:  "Be not wrath, chieftain; I was wondering at thy
words, which are exceeding marvellous; tell me more of this land of
the Glittering Plain."

Said the Grandfather:  "Why should I tell it thee? ask of the
mariners.  They all know more than thou dost."

"Thou knowest," said Hallblithe, "that these men speak not to me, and
take no more heed of me than if I were an image which they were
carrying to sell to the next mighty man they may hap on.  Or tell me,
thou old man," said he fiercely, "is it perchance a thrall-market
whereto they are bringing me?  Have they sold her there, and will
they sell me also in the same place, but into other hands."

"Tush!" said the Grandfather somewhat feebly, "this last word of
thine is folly; there is no buying or selling in the land whereto we
are bound.  As to thine other word, that these men have no fellowship
with thee, it is true:  thou art my fellow and the fellow of none
else aboard.  Therefore if I feel might in me, maybe I will tell thee
somewhat."

Then he raised his head a little and said:  "The sun grows hot, the
wind faileth us, and slow and slow are we sailing."

Even as he spoke there was a stir amidships, and Hallblithe looked
and beheld the mariners handling the sweeps, and settling themselves
on the rowing-benches.  Said the elder:  "There is noise amidships,
what are they doing?"

The old man raised himself a little again, and cried out in his
shrill voice:  "Good lads! brave lads!  Thus would we do in the old
time when we drew anear some shore, and the beacons were sending up
smoke by day, and flame benights; and the shore-abiders did on their
helms and trembled.  Thrust her through, lads!  Thrust her along!"
Then he fell back again, and said in a weak voice:  "Make no more
delay, guest, but go forward and look upon the land, and come back
and tell me thereof, and then the tale may flow from me.  Haste,
haste!"  So Hallblithe went down from the poop, and in to the waist,
where now the rowers were bending to their oars, and crying out
fiercely as they tugged at the quivering ash; and he clomb on to the
forecastle and went forward right to the dragon-head, and gazed long
upon the land, while the dashing of the oar-blades made the semblance
of a gale about the ship's black sides.  Then he came back again to
the Sea-eagle, who said to him:  "Son, what hast thou seen?"

"Right ahead lieth the land, and it is still a good way off.  High
rise the mountains there, but by seeming there is no snow on them;
and though they be blue they are not blue like the mountains of the
Isle of Ransom.  Also it seemed to me as if fair slopes of woodland
and meadow come down to the edge of the sea.  But it is yet far
away."

"Yea," said the elder, "is it so?  Then will I not wear myself with
making words for thee.  I will rest rather, and gather might.  Come
again when an hour hath worn, and tell me what thou seest; and may
happen then thou shalt have my tale!"  And he laid him down therewith
and seemed to be asleep at once.  And Hallblithe might not amend it;
so he waited patiently till the hour had worn, and then went forward
again, and looked long and carefully, and came back and said to the
Sea-eagle, "The hour is worn."

The old chieftain turned himself about and said "What hast thou seen?

Said Hallblithe:  "The mountains are pale and high, and below them
are hills dark with wood, and betwixt them and the sea is a fair
space of meadowland, and methought it was wide."

Said the old man:  "Sawest thou a rocky skerry rising high out of the
sea anigh the shore?"

"Nay," said Hallblithe, "if there be, it is all blended with the
meadows and the hills."

Said the Sea-eagle:  "Abide the wearing of another hour, and come and
tell me again, and then I may have a gainful word for thee."  And he
fell asleep again.  But Hallblithe abided, and when the hour was
worn, he went forward and stood on the forecastle.  And this was the
third shift of the rowers, and the stoutest men in the ship now held
the oars in their hands, and the ship shook through all her length
and breadth as they drave her over the waters.

So Hallblithe came aft to the old man and found him asleep; so he
took him by the shoulder, and shook him and said:  "Awake, faring-
fellow, for the land is a-nigh."

So the old man sat up and said:  "What hast thou seen?"

Said Hallblithe:  "I have seen the peaks and cliffs of the far-off
mountains; and below them are hills green with grass and dark with
woods, and thence stretch soft green meadows down to the sea-strand,
which is fair and smooth, and yellow."

"Sawest thou the skerry?" said the Sea-eagle.

"Yea, I saw it," said Hallblithe, "and it rises sheer from out the
sea about a mile from the yellow strand; but its rocks are black,
like the rocks of the Isle of Ransom."

"Son," said the elder, "give me thine hands and raise me up a
little."  So Hallblithe took him and raised him up, so that he sat
leaning against the pillows; and he looked not on Hallblithe, but on
the bows of the ship, which now pitched but a little up and down, for
the sea was laid quiet now.  Then he cried in his shrill, piping
voice:  "It is the Land!  It is the Land!"

But after a little while he turned to Hallblithe and spake:  "Short
is the tale to tell:  thou hast wished me youth, and thy wish hath
thriven; for to-day, ere the sun goes down, thou shalt see me as I
was in the days when I reaped the harvest of the sea with sharp sword
and hardy heart.  For this is the land of the Undying King, who is
our lord and our gift-giver; and to some he giveth the gift of youth
renewed, and life that shall abide here the Gloom of the Gods.  But
none of us all may come to the Glittering Plain and the King Undying
without turning the back for the last time on the Isle of Ransom:
nor may any men of the Isle come hither save those who are of the
House of the Sea-eagle, and few of those, save the chieftains of the
House, such as are they who sat by thee on the high-seat that even.
Of these once in a while is chosen one of us, who is old and spent
and past battle, and is borne to this land and the gift of the
Undying.  Forsooth some of us have no will to take the gift, for they
say they are liefer to go to where they shall meet more of our
kindred than dwell on the Glittering Plain and the Acre of the
Undying; but as for me I was ever an overbearing and masterful man,
and meseemeth it is well that I meet as few of our kindred as may be:
for they are a strifeful race."

Hereat Hallblithe marvelled exceedingly, and he said:  "And what am I
in all this story?  Why am I come hither with thy furtherance?"

Said the Sea-eagle:  "We had a charge from the Undying King
concerning thee, that we should bring thee hither alive and well, if
so be thou camest to the Isle of Ransom.  For what cause we had the
charge, I know not, nor do I greatly heed."

Said Hallblithe:  "And shall I also have that gift of undying youth,
and life while the world of men and gods endureth?"

"I must needs deem so," said the Sea-eagle, "so long as thou abidest
on the Glittering Plain; and I see not how thou mayst ever escape
thence."

Now Hallblithe heard him, how he said "escape," and thereat he was
somewhat ill at ease, and stood and pondered a little.  At last he
said:  "Is this then all that thou hast to tell me concerning the
Glittering Plain?"

"By the Treasure of the Sea!" said the elder, "I know no more of it.
The living shall learn.  But I suppose that thou mayst seek thy
troth-plight maiden there all thou wilt.  Or thou mayst pray the
Undying King to have her thither to thee.  What know I?  At least, it
is like that there shall be no lack of fair women there:  or else the
promise of youth renewed is nought and vain.  Shall this not be
enough for thee?"

"Nay," said Hallblithe.

"What," said the elder, "must it be one woman only?"

"One only," said Hallblithe.

The old man laughed his thin mocking laugh, and said:  "I will not
assure thee but that the land of the Glittering Plain shall change
all that for thee so soon as it touches the soles of thy feet."

Hallblithe looked at him steadily and smiled, and said:  "Well is it
then that I shall find the Hostage there; for then shall we be of one
mind, either to sunder or to cleave together.  It is well with me
this day."

"And with me it shall be well ere long," said the Sea-eagle.

But now the rowers ceased rowing and lay on their oars, and the
shipmen cast anchor; for they were but a bowshot from the shore, and
the ship swung with the tide and lay side-long to the shore.  Then
said the Sea-eagle:  "Look forth, shipmate, and tell me of the land."

And Hallblithe looked and said:  "The yellow beach is sandy and
shell-strewn, as I deem, and there is no great space of it betwixt
the sea and the flowery grass; and a bowshot from the strand I see a
little wood amidst which are fair trees blossoming."

"Seest thou any folk on the shore?" said the old man.  "Yea," said
Hallblithe, "close to the edge of the sea go four; and by seeming
three are women, for their long gowns flutter in the wind.  And one
of these is clad in saffron colour, and another in white, and another
in watchet; but the carle is clad in dark red; and their raiment is
all glistening as with gold and gems; and by seeming they are looking
at our ship as though they expected somewhat."

Said the Sea-eagle:  "Why now do the shipmen tarry and have not made
ready the skiff?  Swillers and belly-gods they be; slothful swine
that forget their chieftain."

But even as he spake came four of the shipmen, and without more ado
took him up, bed and all, and bore him down into the waist of the
ship, whereunder lay the skiff with four strong rowers lying on their
oars.  These men made no sign to Hallblithe, nor took any heed of
him; but he caught up his spear, and followed them and stood by as
they lowered the old man into the boat.  Then he set his foot on the
gunwale of the ship and leapt down lightly into the boat, and none
hindered or helped him; and he stood upright in the boat, a goodly
image of battle with the sun flashing back from his bright helm, his
spear in his hand, his white shield at his back, and thereon the
image of the Raven; but if he had been but a salt-boiling carle of
the sea-side none would have heeded him less.



CHAPTER X:  THEY HOLD CONVERSE WITH FOLK OF THE GLITTERING PLAIN



Now the rowers lifted the ash-blades, and fell to rowing towards
shore:  and almost with the first of their strokes, the Sea-eagle
moaned out:

"Would we were there, oh, would we were there!  Cold groweth eld
about my heart.  Raven's Son, thou art standing up; tell me if thou
canst see what these folk of the land are doing, and if any others
have come thither?"

Said Hallblithe:  "There are none others come, but kine and horses
are feeding down the meadows.  As to what those four are doing, the
women are putting off their shoon, and girding up their raiment, as
if they would wade the water toward us; and the carle, who was
barefoot before, wendeth straight towards the sea, and there he
standeth, for very little are the waves become."

The old man answered nothing, and did but groan for lack of patience;
but presently when the water was yet waist deep the rowers stayed the
skiff, and two of them slipped over the gunwale into the sea, and
between them all they took up the chieftain on his bed and got him
forth from the boat and went toward the strand with him; and the
landsfolk met them where the water was shallower, and took him from
their hands and bore him forth on to the yellow sand, and laid him
down out of reach of the creeping ripple of the tide.  Hallblithe
withal slipped lightly out of the boat and waded the water after
them.  But the shipmen rowed back again to their ship, and presently
Hallblithe heard the hale and how, as they got up their anchor.

But when Hallblithe was come ashore, and was drawn near the folk of
the land, the women looked at him askance, and they laughed and said:
"Welcome to thee also, O young man!"  And he beheld them, and saw
that they were of the stature of the maidens of his own land; they
were exceeding fair of skin and shapely of fashion, so that the
nakedness of their limbs under their girded gowns, and all glistening
with the sea, was most lovely and dainty to behold.  But Hallblithe
knelt by the Sea-eagle to note how he fared, and said:  "How is it
with thee, O chieftain?"

The old man answered not a word, and he seemed to be asleep, and
Hallblithe deemed that his cheeks were ruddier and his skin less
wasted and wrinkled than aforetime.  Then spake one of those women:
"Fear not, young man; he is well and will soon be better."  Her voice
was as sweet as a spring bird in the morning; she was white-skinned
and dark-haired, and full sweetly fashioned; and she laughed on
Hallblithe, but not mockingly; and her fellows also laughed, as
though it was strange for him to be there.  Then they did on their
shoon again, and with the carle laid their hands to the bed whereon
the old man lay, and lifted him up, and bore him forth on to the
grass, turning their faces toward the flowery wood aforesaid; and
they went a little way and then laid him down again and rested; and
so on little by little, till they had brought him to the edge of the
wood, and still he seemed to be asleep.  Then the damsel who had
spoken before, she with the dark hair, said to Hallblithe, "Although
we have gazed on thee as if with wonder, this is not because we did
not look to meet thee, but because thou art so fair and goodly a man:
so abide thou here till we come back to thee from out of the wood."

Therewith she stroked his hand, and with her fellows lifted the old
man once more, and they bore him out of sight into the thicket.

But Hallblithe went to and fro a dozen paces from the wood, and
looked across the flowery meads and deemed he had never seen any so
fair.  And afar off toward the hills he saw a great roof arising, and
thought he could see men also; and nigher to him were kine pasturing,
and horses also, whereof some drew anear him and stretched out their
necks and gazed at him; and they were goodly after their kind; and a
fair stream of water came round the corner out of the wood and down
the meadows to the sea; and Hallblithe went thereto and could see
that there was but little ebb and flow of the tide on that shore; for
the water of the stream was clear as glass, and the grass and flowers
grew right down to its water; so he put off his helm and drank of the
stream and washed his face and his hands therein, and then did on his
helm again and turned back again toward the wood, feeling very strong
and merry; and he looked out seaward and saw the Ship of the Isle of
Ransom lessening fast; for a little land wind had arisen and they had
spread their sails to it; and he laid down on the grass till the four
folk of the country came out of the wood again, after they had been
gone somewhat less than an hour, but the Sea-eagle was not with them:
and Hallblithe rose up and turned to them, and the carle saluted him
and departed, going straight toward that far-away roof he had seen;
and the women were left with Hallblithe, and they looked at him and
he at them as he stood leaning on his spear.

Then said the black-haired damsel:  "True it is, O Spearman, that if
we did not know of thee, our wonder would be great that a man so
young and lucky-looking should have sought hither."

"I wot not why thou shouldest wonder," said Hallblithe; "I will tell
thee presently wherefore I come hither.  But tell me, is this the
Land of the Glittering Plain?"

"Even so," said the damsel, "dost thou not see how the sun shineth on
it?  Just so it shineth in the season that other folks call winter."

"Some such marvel I thought to hear of," said he; "for I have been
told that the land is marvellous; and fair though these meadows be,
they are not marvellous to look on now:  they are like other lands,
though it maybe, fairer."

"That may be," she said; "we have nought but hearsay of other lands.
If we ever knew them we have forgotten them."

Said Hallblithe, "Is this land called also the Acre of the Undying?"

As he spake the words the smile faded from the damsel's face; she and
her fellows grew pale, and she said:  "Hold thy peace of such words!
They are not lawful for any man to utter here.  Yet mayst thou call
it the Land of the Living."

He said:  "I crave pardon for the rash word."

Then they smiled again, and drew near to him, and caressed him with
their hands, and looked on him lovingly; but he drew a little aback
from them and said:  "I have come hither seeking something which I
have lost, the lack whereof grieveth me."

Quoth the damsel, drawing nearer to him again, "Mayst thou find it,
thou lovely man, and whatsoever else thou desirest."

Then he said:  "Hath a woman named the Hostage been brought hither of
late days?  A fair woman, bright-haired and grey-eyed, kind of
countenance, soft of speech, yet outspoken and nought timorous; tall
according to our stature, but very goodly of fashion; a woman of the
House of the Rose, and my troth-plight maiden."

They looked on each other and shook their heads, and the black-haired
damsel spake:  "We know of no such a woman, nor of the kindred which
thou namest."

Then his countenance fell, and became piteous with desire and grief,
and he bent his brows upon them, for they seemed to him light-minded
and careless, though they were lovely.

But they shrank from him trembling, and drew aback; for they had all
been standing close to him, beholding him with love, and she who had
spoken most had been holding his left hand fondly.  But now she said:
"Nay, look not on us so bitterly!  If the woman be not in the land,
this cometh not of our malice.  Yet maybe she is here.  For such as
come hither keep not their old names, and soon forget them what they
were.  Thou shalt go with us to the King, and he shall do for thee
what thou wilt; for he is exceeding mighty."

Then was Hallblithe appeased somewhat; and he said:  "Are there many
women in the land?"

"Yea, many," said that damsel.

"And many that are as fair as ye be?" said he.  Then they laughed and
were glad, and drew near to him again and took his hands and kissed
them; and the black-haired damsel said:  "Yea, yea, there be many as
fair as we be, and some fairer," and she laughed.

"And that King of yours," said he, "how do ye name him?"

"He is the King," said the damsel.

"Hath he no other name?" said Hallblithe.

"We may not utter it," she said; "but thou shalt see him soon, that
there is nought but good in him and mightiness."



CHAPTER XI:  THE SEA-EAGLE RENEWETH HIS LIFE



But while they spake together thus, came a man from out of the wood
very tall of stature, red-bearded and black-haired, ruddy-cheeked,
full-limbed, most joyous of aspect; a man by seeming of five and
thirty winters.  He strode straight up to Hallblithe, and cast his
arms about him, and kissed his cheek, as if he had been an old and
dear friend newly come from over seas.

Hallblithe wondered and laughed, and said:  "Who art thou that
deemest me so dear?"

Said the man:  "Short is thy memory, Son of the Raven, that thou in
so little space hast forgotten thy shipmate and thy faring-fellow;
who gave thee meat and drink and good rede in the Hall of the
Ravagers."  Therewith he laughed joyously and turned about to the
three maidens and took them by the hands and kissed their lips, while
they fawned upon him lovingly.

Then said Hallblithe:  "Hast thou verily gotten thy youth again,
which thou badest me wish thee?"

"Yea, in good sooth," said the red-bearded man; "I am the Sea-eagle
of old days; and I have gotten my youth, and love therewithal, and
somewhat to love moreover."

Therewith he turned to the fairest of the damsels, and she was white-
skinned and fragrant as the lily, rose-cheeked and slender, and the
wind played with the long locks of her golden hair, which hung down
below her knees; so he cast his arms about her and strained her to
his bosom, and kissed her face many times, and she nothing loth, but
caressing him with lips and hand.  But the other two damsels stood by
smiling and joyous:  and they clapped their hands together and kissed
each other for joy of the new lover; and at last fell to dancing and
skipping about them like young lambs in the meadows of Spring-tide.
But amongst them all, stood up Hallblithe leaning on his spear with
smiling lips and knitted brow; for he was pondering in his mind in
what wise he might further his quest.

But after they had danced a while the Sea-eagle left his love that he
had chosen and took a hand of either of the two damsels, and led them
tripping up to Hallblithe, and cried out:  "Choose thou, Raven's
baby, which of these twain thou wilt have to thy mate; for scarcely
shalt thou see better or fairer."

But Hallblithe looked on them proudly and sternly, and the black-
haired damsel hung down her head before him and said softly:  "Nay,
nay, sea-warrior; this one is too lovely to be our mate.  Sweeter
love abides him, and lips more longed for."

Then stirred Hallblithe's heart within him and he said:  "O Eagle of
the Sea, thou hast thy youth again:  what then wilt thou do with it?
Wilt thou not weary for the moonlit main, and the washing of waves
and the dashing of spray, and thy fellows all glistening with the
brine?  Where now shall be the alien shores before thee, and the
landing for fame, and departure for the gain of goods?  Wilt thou
forget the ship's black side, and the dripping of the windward oars,
as the squall falleth on when the sun hath arisen, and the sail
tuggeth hard on the sheet, and the ship lieth over and the lads shout
against the whistle of the wind?  Has the spear fallen from thine
hand, and hast thou buried the sword of thy fathers in the grave from
which thy body hath escaped?  What art thou, O Warrior, in the land
of the alien and the King?  Who shall heed thee or tell the tale of
thy glory, which thou hast covered over with the hand of a light
woman, whom thy kindred knoweth not, and who was not born in a house
wherefrom it hath been appointed thee from of old to take the
pleasure of woman?  Whose thrall art thou now, thou lifter of the
spoil, thou scarer of the freeborn?  The bidding of what lord or King
wilt thou do, O Chieftain, that thou mayst eat thy meat in the
morning and lie soft in thy bed in the evening?"

"O Warrior of the Ravagers, here stand I, Hallblithe of the Raven,
and I am come into an alien land beset with marvels to seek mine own,
and find that which is dearest to mine heart; to wit, my troth-plight
maiden the Hostage of the Rose, the fair woman who shall lie in my
bed, and bear me children, and stand by me in field and fold, by
thwart and gunwale, before the bow and the spear, by the flickering
of the cooking-fire, and amidst the blaze of the burning hall, and
beside the bale-fire of the warrior of the Raven.  O Sea-eagle, my
guester amongst the foemen, my fellow-farer and shipmate, say now
once for all whether thou wilt help me in my quest, or fall off from
me as a dastard?"

Again the maidens shrank before his clear and high-raised voice, and
they trembled and grew pale.

But the Sea-eagle laughed from a countenance kind with joy, and said:
"Child of the Raven, thy words are good and manly:  but it availeth
nought in this land, and I wot not how thou wilt fare, or why thou
hast been sent amongst us.  What wilt thou do?  Hadst thou spoken
these words to the Long-hoary, the Grandfather, yesterday, his ears
would have been deaf to them; and now that thou speakest them to the
Sea-eagle, this joyous man on the Glittering Plain, he cannot do
according to them, for there is no other land than this which can
hold him.  Here he is strong and stark, and full of joy and love; but
otherwhere he would be but a gibbering ghost drifting down the wind
of night.  Therefore in whatsoever thou mayst do within this land I
will stand by thee and help thee; but not one inch beyond it may my
foot go, whether it be down into the brine of the sea, or up into the
clefts of the mountains which are the wall of this goodly land.

"Thou hast been my shipmate and I love thee, I am thy friend; but
here in this land must needs be the love and the friendship.  For no
ghost can love thee, no ghost may help thee.  And as to what thou
sayest concerning the days gone past and our joys upon the tumbling
sea, true it is that those days were good and lovely; but they are
dead and gone like the lads who sat on the thwart beside us, and the
maidens who took our hands in the hall to lead us to the chamber.
Other days have come in their stead, and other friends shall cherish
us.  What then?  Shall we wound the living to pleasure the dead, who
cannot heed it?  Shall we curse the Yuletide, and cast foul water on
the Holy Hearth of the winter feast, because the summer once was fair
and the days flit and the times change?  Now let us be glad!  For
life liveth."

Therewith he turned about to his damsel and kissed her on the mouth.
But Hallblithe's face was grown sad and stern, and he spake slowly
and heavily:  "So is it, shipmate, that whereas thou sayest that the
days flit, for thee they shall flit no more; and the day may come for
thee when thou shalt be weary, and know it, and long for the lost
which thou hast forgotten.  But hereof it availeth nought for me to
speak any longer, for thine ears are deaf to these words, and thou
wilt not hear them.  Therefore I say no more save that I thank thee
for thy help whatsoever it may be; and I will take it, for the day's
work lieth before me, and I begin to think that it may be heavy
enough."

The women yet looked downcast, and as if they would be gone out of
earshot; but the Sea-eagle laughed as one who is well content, and
said:  "Thou thyself wilt make it hard for thyself after the wont of
thy proud and haughty race; but for me nothing is hard any longer;
neither thy scorn nor thy forebodings of evil.  Be thou my friend as
much as thou canst, and I will be thine wholly.  Now ye women,
whither will ye lead us?  For I am ready to see any new thing ye will
show us."

Said his damsel:  "We will take you to the King, that your hearts may
be the more gladdened.  And as for thy friend the Spearman, O Sea-
warrior, let not his heart be downcast.  Who wotteth but that these
two desires, the desire of his heart, and the desire of a heart for
him, may not be one and the same desire, so that he shall be fully
satisfied?"  As she spoke she looked sidelong at Hallblithe, with shy
and wheedling eyes; and he wondered at her word, and a new hope
sprang up in his heart that he was presently to be brought face to
face with the Hostage, and that this was that love, sweeter than
their love, which abode in him, and his heart became lighter, and his
visage cleared.



CHAPTER XII:  THEY LOOK ON THE KING OF THE GLITTERING PLAIN



So now the women led them along up the stream, and Hallblithe went
side by side by the Sea-eagle; but the women had become altogether
merry again, and played and ran about them as gamesome as young
goats; and they waded the shallows of the clear bright stream
barefoot to wash their limbs of the sea-brine, and strayed about the
meadows, plucking the flowers and making them wreaths and chaplets,
which they did upon themselves and the Sea-eagle; but Hallblithe they
touched not, for still they feared him.  They went on as the stream
led them up toward the hills, and ever were the meads about them as
fair and flowery as might be.  Folk they saw afar off, but fell in
with none for a good while, saving a man and a maid clad lightly as
for mid-summer days, who were wandering together lovingly and happily
by the stream-side, and who gazed wonderingly on the stark Sea-eagle,
and on Hallblithe with his glittering spear.  The black-haired damsel
greeted these twain and spake something to them, and they laughed
merrily, and the man stooped down amongst the grasses and blossoms of
the bank, and drew forth a basket, and spread dainty victuals on the
grass under a willow-tree, and bade them be his guests that fair
afternoon.  So they sat down there above the glistering stream and
ate and drank and were merry.  Thereafter the new-comers and their
way-leaders departed with kind words, and still set their faces
towards the hills.

At last they saw before them a little wooded hill, and underneath it
something red and shining, and other coloured things gleaming in the
sun about it.  Then said the Sea-eagle:  "What have we yonder?"

Said his damsel:  "That is the pavilion of the King; and about it are
the tents and tilts of our folk who are of his fellowship:  for oft
he abideth in the fields with them, though he hath houses and halls
as fair as the heart of man can conceive."

"Hath he no foemen to fear?" said the Sea-eagle.

"How should that be?" said the damsel.  "If perchance any came into
this land to bring war upon him, their battle-anger should depart
when once the bliss of the Glittering Plain had entered into their
souls, and they would ask for nought but leave to abide here and be
happy.  Yet I trow that if he had foemen he could crush them as
easily as I set my foot on this daisy."

So as they went on they fell in with many folk, men and women,
sporting and playing in the fields; and there was no semblance of eld
on any of them, and no scar or blemish or feebleness of body or
sadness of countenance; nor did any bear a weapon or any piece of
armour.  Now some of them gathered about the new-corners, and
wondered at Hallblithe and his long spear and shining helm and dark
grey byrny; but none asked concerning them, for all knew that they
were folk new come to the bliss of the Glittering Plain.  So they
passed amidst these fair folk little hindered by them, and into
Hallblithe's thoughts it came how joyous the fellowship of such
should be and how his heart should be raised by the sight of them, if
only his troth-plight maiden were by his side.

Thus then they came to the King's pavilion, where it stood in a bight
of the meadow-land at the foot of the hill, with the wood about it on
three sides.  So fair a house Hallblithe deemed he had never seen;
for it was wrought all over with histories and flowers, and with hems
sewn with gold, and with orphreys of gold and pearl and gems.

There in the door of it sat the King of the Land in an ivory chair;
he was clad in golden gown, girt with a girdle of gems, and had his
crown on his head and his sword by his side.  For this was the hour
wherein he heard what any of his folk would say to him, and for that
very end he sat there in the door of his tent, and folk were standing
before him, and sitting and lying on the grass round about; and now
one, now another, came up to him and spoke before him.

His face shone like a star; it was exceeding beauteous, and as kind
as the even of May in the gardens of the happy, when the scent of the
eglantine fills all the air.  When he spoke his voice was so sweet
that all hearts were ravished, and none might gainsay him.

But when Hallblithe set eyes on him, he knew at once that this was he
whose carven image he had seen in the Hall of the Ravagers, and his
heart beat fast, and he said to himself:  "Hold up thine head now, O
Son of the Raven, strengthen thine heart, and let no man or god cow
thee.  For how can thine heart change, which bade thee go to the
house wherefrom it was due to thee to take the pleasure of woman, and
there to pledge thy faith and troth to her that loveth thee most, and
hankereth for thee day by day and hour by hour, so that great is the
love that we twain have builded up."

Now they drew nigh, for folk fell back before them to the right and
left, as before men who are new come and have much to do; so that
there was nought between them and the face of the King.  But he
smiled upon them so that he cheered their hearts with the hope of
fulfilment of their desires, and he said:  "Welcome, children!  Who
be these whom ye have brought hither for the increase of our joy?
Who is this tall, ruddy-faced, joyous man so meet for the bliss of
the Glittering Plain?  And who is this goodly and lovely young man,
who beareth weapons amidst our peace, and whose face is sad and stern
beneath the gleaming of his helm?

Said the dark-haired damsel:  "O King!  O Gift-giver and assurer of
joy! this tall one is he who was once oppressed by eld, and who hath
come hither to thee from the Isle of Ransom, according to the custom
of the land."

Said the King:  "Tall man, it is well that thou art come.  Now are
thy days changed and thou yet alive.  For thee battle is ended, and
therewith the reward of battle, which the warrior remembereth not
amidst the hard hand-play:  peace hath begun, and thou needest not be
careful for the endurance thereof:  for in this land no man hath a
lack which he may not satisfy without taking aught from any other.  I
deem not that thine heart may conceive a desire which I shall not
fulfil for thee, or crave a gift which I shall not give thee."

Then the Sea-eagle laughed for joy, and turned his head this way and
that, so that he might the better take to him the smiles of all those
that stood around.

Then the King said to Hallblithe:  "Thou also art welcome; I know
thee who thou art:  meseemeth great joy awaiteth thee, and I will
fulfil thy desire to the uttermost."

Said Hallblithe:  "O great King of a happy land, I ask of thee nought
save that which none shall withhold from me uncursed."

"I will give it to thee," said the King, "and thou shalt bless me.
But what is it which thou wouldst?  What more canst thou have than
the Gifts of the land?"

Said Hallblithe:  "I came hither seeking no gifts, but to have mine
own again; and that is the bodily love of my troth-plight maiden.
They stole her from me, and me from her; for she loved me.  I went
down to the sea-side and found her not, nor the ship which had borne
her away.  I sailed from thence to the Isle of Ransom, for they told
me that there I should buy her for a price; neither was her body
there.  But her image came to me in a dream of the night, and bade me
seek to her hither.  Therefore, O King, if she be here in the land,
show me how I shall find her, and if she be not here, show me how I
may depart to seek her otherwhere.  This is all my asking."

Said the King:  "Thy desire shall be satisfied; thou shalt have the
woman who would have thee, and whom thou shouldst have."

Hallblithe was gladdened beyond measure by that word; and now did the
King seem to him a comfort and a solace to every heart, even as he
had deemed of his carven image in the Hall of the Ravagers; and he
thanked him, and blessed him.

But the King bade him abide by him that night, and feast with him.
"And on the morrow," said he, "thou shalt go thy ways to look on her
whom thou oughtest to love."

Therewith was come the eventide and beginning of night, warm and
fragrant and bright with the twinkling of stars, and they went into
the King's pavilion, and there was the feast as fair and dainty as
might be; and Hallblithe had meat from the King's own dish, and drink
from his cup; but the meat had no savour to him and the drink no
delight, because of the longing that possessed him.

And when the feast was done, the damsels led Hallblithe to his bed in
a fair tent strewn with gold about his head like the starry night,
and he lay down and slept for sheer weariness of body.



CHAPTER XIII:  HALLBLITHE BEHOLDETH THE WOMAN WHO LOVETH HIM



But on the morrow the men arose, and the Sea-eagle and his damsel
came to Hallblithe; for the other two damsels were departed, and the
Sea-eagle said to him:

"Here am I well honoured and measurelessly happy; and I have a
message for thee from the King."

"What is it?" said Hallblithe; but he deemed that he knew what it
would be, and he reddened for the joy of his assured hope.

Said the Sea-eagle:  "Joy to thee, O shipmate!  I am to take thee to
the place where thy beloved abideth, and there shalt thou see her,
but not so as she can see thee; and thereafter shalt thou go to the
King, that thou mayst tell him if she shall accomplish thy desire."

Then was Hallblithe glad beyond measure, and his heart danced within
him, and he deemed it but meet that the others should be so joyous
and blithe with him, for they led him along without any delay, and
were glad at his rejoicing; and words failed him to tell of his
gladness.

But as he went, the thoughts of his coming converse with his beloved
curled sweetly round his heart, so that scarce anything had seemed so
sweet to him before; and he fell a-pondering what they twain, he and
the Hostage, should do when they came together again; whether they
should abide on the Glittering Plain, or go back again to Cleveland
by the Sea and dwell in the House of the Kindred; and for his part he
yearned to behold the roof of his fathers and to tread the meadow
which his scythe had swept, and the acres where his hook had smitten
the wheat.  But he said to himself, "I will wait till I hear her
desire hereon."

Now they went into the wood at the back of the King's pavilion and
through it, and so over the hill, and beyond it came into a land of
hills and dales exceeding fair and lovely; and a river wound about
the dales, lapping in turn the feet of one hill-side or the other;
and in each dale (for they passed through two) was a goodly house of
men, and tillage about it, and vineyards and orchards.  They went all
day till the sun was near setting, and were not weary, for they
turned into the houses by the way when they would, and had good
welcome and meat and drink and what they would of the folk that dwelt
there.  Thus anigh sunset they came into a dale fairer than either of
the others, and nigh to the end where they had entered it was an
exceeding goodly house.  Then said the damsel:

"We are nigh-hand to our journey's end; let us sit down on the grass
by this river-side whilst I tell thee the tale which the King would
have thee know."

So they sat down on the grass beside the brimming river, scant two
bowshots from that fair house, and the damsel said, reading from a
scroll which she drew from her bosom:

"O Spearman, in yonder house dwelleth the woman foredoomed to love
thee:  if thou wouldst see her, go thitherward, following the path
which turneth from the river-side by yonder oak-tree, and thou shalt
presently come to a thicket of bay-trees at the edge of an apple-
orchard, whose trees are blossoming; abide thou hidden by the bay-
leaves, and thou shalt see maidens come into the orchard, and at last
one fairer than all the others.  This shall be thy love fore-doomed,
and none other; and thou shalt know her by this token, that when she
hath set her down on the grass beside the bay-tree, she shall say to
her maidens 'Bring me now the book wherein is the image of my
beloved, that I may solace myself with beholding it before the sun
goes down and the night cometh.'"

Now Hallblithe was troubled when she read out these words, and he
said:  "What is this tale about a book?  I know not of any book that
lieth betwixt me and my beloved."

"O Spearman," said the damsel, "I may tell thee no more, because I
know no more.  But keep up thine heart!  For dost thou know any more
than I do what hath befallen thy beloved since thou wert sundered
from her? and why should not this matter of the book be one of the
things that hath befallen her?  Go now with joy, and come again
blessing us."

"Yea, go, faring-fellow," said the Sea-eagle, "and come back joyful,
that we may all be merry together.  And we will abide thee here."

Hallblithe foreboded evil, but he held his peace and went his ways
down the path by the oak-tree; and they abode there by the water-
side, and were very merry talking of this and that (but no whit of
Hallblithe), and kissing and caressing each other; so that it seemed
but a little while to them ere they saw Hallblithe coming back by the
oak-tree.  He went slowly, hanging his head like a man sore-burdened
with grief:  thus he came up to them, and stood there above them as
they lay on the fragrant grass, and he saying no word and looking so
sad and sorry, and withal so fell, that they feared his grief and his
anger, and would fain have been away from him; so that they durst not
ask him a question for a long while, and the sun sank below the hill
while they abided thus.

Then all trembling the damsel spake to the Sea-eagle:  "Speak to him,
dear friend, else must I flee away, for I fear his silence."

Quoth the Sea-eagle:  "Shipmate and friend, what hath betided?  How
art thou?  May we hearken, and mayhappen amend it?"

Then Hallblithe cast himself adown on the grass and said:  "I am
accursed and beguiled; and I wander round and round in a tangle that
I may not escape from.  I am not far from deeming that this is a land
of dreams made for my beguiling.  Or has the earth become so full of
lies, that there is no room amidst them for a true man to stand upon
his feet and go his ways?"

Said the Sea-eagle:  "Thou shalt tell us of what hath betid, and so
ease the sorrow of thy soul if thou wilt.  Or if thou wilt, thou
shalt nurse thy sorrow in thine heart and tell no man.  Do what thou
wilt; am I not become thy friend?"

Said Hallblithe:  "I will tell you twain the tidings, and thereafter
ask me no more concerning them.  Hearken.  I went whereas ye bade me,
and hid myself in the bay-tree thicket; and there came maidens into
the blossoming orchard and made a resting-place with silken cushions
close to where I was lurking, and stood about as though they were
looking for some one to come.  In a little time came two more
maidens, and betwixt them one so much fairer than any there, that my
heart sank within me:  whereas I deemed because of her fairness that
this would be the fore-doomed love whereof ye spake, and lo, she was
in nought like to my troth-plight maiden, save that she was exceeding
beauteous:  nevertheless, heart-sick as I was, I determined to abide
the token that ye told me of.  So she lay down amidst those cushions,
and I beheld her that she was sad of countenance; and she was so near
to me that I could see the tears welling into her eyes, and running
down her cheeks; so that I should have grieved sorely for her had I
not been grieving so sorely for myself.  For presently she sat up and
said 'O maiden, bring me hither the book wherein is the image of my
beloved, that I may behold it in this season of sunset wherein I
first beheld it; that I may fill my heart with the sight thereof
before the sun is gone and the dark night come.'

"Then indeed my heart died within me when I wotted that this was the
love whereof the King spake, that he would give to me, and she not
mine own beloved, yet I could not choose but abide and look on a
while, and she being one that any man might love beyond measure.  Now
a maiden went away into the house and came back again with a book
covered with gold set with gems; and the fair woman took it and
opened it, and I was so near to her that I saw every leaf clearly as
she turned the leaves.  And in that book were pictures of many
things, as flaming mountains, and castles of war, and ships upon the
sea, but chiefly of fair women, and queens, and warriors and kings;
and it was done in gold and azure and cinnabar and minium.  So she
turned the leaves, till she came to one whereon was pictured none
other than myself, and over against me was the image of mine own
beloved, the Hostage of the Rose, as if she were alive, so that the
heart within me swelled with the sobbing which I must needs refrain,
which grieved me like a sword-stroke.  Shame also took hold of me as
the fair woman spoke to my painted image, and I lying well-nigh
within touch of her hand; but she said:  'O my beloved, why dost thou
delay to come to me?  For I deemed that this eve at least thou
wouldst come, so many and strong as are the meshes of love which we
have cast about thy feet.  Oh come to-morrow at the least and latest,
or what shall I do, and wherewith shall I quench the grief of my
heart?  Or else why am I the daughter of the Undying King, the Lord
of the Treasure of the Sea?  Why have they wrought new marvels for
me, and compelled the Ravagers of the Coasts to serve me, and sent
false dreams flitting on the wings of the night?  Yea, why is the
earth fair and fruitful, and the heavens kind above it, if thou
comest not to-night, nor to-morrow, nor the day after?  And I the
daughter of the Undying, on whom the days shall grow and grow as the
grains of sand which the wind heaps up above the sea-beach.  And life
shall grow huger and more hideous round about the lonely one, like
the ling-worm laid upon the gold, that waxeth thereby, till it lies
all around about the house of the queen entrapped, the moveless
unending ring of the years that change not.'

"So she spake till the weeping ended her words, and I was all abashed
with shame and pale with anguish.  I stole quietly from my lair
unheeded of any, save that one damsel said that a rabbit ran in the
hedge, and another that a blackbird stirred in the thicket.  Behold
me, then, that my quest beginneth again amidst the tangle of lies
whereinto I have been entrapped."



CHAPTER XIV:  HALLBLITHE HAS SPEECH WITH THE KING AGAIN



He stood up when he had made an end, as a man ready for the road; but
they lay there downcast and abashed, and had no words to answer him.
For the Sea-eagle was sorry that his faring-fellow was hapless, and
was sorry that he was sorry; and as for the damsel, she had not known
but that she was leading the goodly Spearman to the fulfilment of his
heart's desire.  Albeit after a while she spake again and said:

"Dear friends, day is gone and night is at hand; now to-night it were
ill lodging at yonder house; and the next house on our backward road
is over far for wayworn folk.  But hard by through the thicket is a
fair little wood-lawn, by the lip of a pool in the stream wherein we
may bathe us to-morrow morning; and it is grassy and flowery and
sheltered from all winds that blow, and I have victual enough in my
wallet.  Let us sup and rest there under the bare heaven, as oft is
the wont of us in this land; and on the morrow early we will arise
and get us back again to Wood-end, where yet the King abideth, and
there shalt thou talk to him again, O Spearman."

Said Hallblithe:  "Take me whither ye will; but now nought availeth.
I am a captive in a land of lies, and here most like shall I live
betrayed and die hapless."

"Hold thy peace, dear friend, of such words as those last," said she,
"or I must needs flee from thee, for they hurt me sorely.  Come now
to this pleasant place."

She took him by the hand and looked kindly on him, and the Sea-eagle
followed him, murmuring an old song of the harvest-field, and they
went together by a path through a thicket of white-thorn till they
came unto a grassy place.  There then they sat them down, and ate and
drank what they would, sitting by the lip of the pool till a waning
moon was bright over their heads.  And Hallblithe made no semblance
of content; but the Sea-eagle and his damsel were grown merry again,
and talked and sang together like autumn stares, with the kissing and
caressing of lovers.

So at last those twain lay down amongst the flowers, and slept in
each other's arms; but Hallblithe betook him to the brake a little
aloof, and lay down, but slept not till morning was at hand, when
slumber and confused dreams overtook him.

He was awaked from his sleep by the damsel, who came pushing through
the thicket all fresh and rosy from the river, and roused him, and
said:

"Awake now, Spearman, that we may take our pleasure in the sun; for
he is high in the heavens now, and all the land laughs beneath him."

Her eyes glittered as she spoke, and her limbs moved under her
raiment as though she would presently fall to dancing for very joy.
But Hallblithe arose wearily, and gave her back no smile in answer,
but thrust through the thicket to the water, and washed the night
from off him, and so came back to the twain as they sat dallying
together over their breakfast.  He would not sit down by them, but
ate a morsel of bread as he stood, and said:  "Tell me how I can
soonest find the King:  I bid you not lead me thither, but let me go
my ways alone.  For with me time presses, and with you meseemeth time
is nought.  Neither am I a meet fellow for the happy."

But the Sea-eagle sprang up, and swore with a great oath that he
would nowise leave his shipmate in the lurch.  And the damsel said:
"Fair man, I had best go with thee; I shall not hinder thee, but
further thee rather, so that thou shalt make one day's journey of
two."

And she put forth her hand to him, and caressed him smiling, and
fawned upon him, and he heeded it little, but hung not aback from
them since they were ready for the road:  so they set forth all three
together.

They made such diligence on the backward road that the sun was not
set by then they came to Wood-end; and there was the King sitting in
the door of his pavilion.  Thither went Hallblithe straight, and
thrust through the throng, and stood before the King; who greeted him
kindly, and was no less sweet of face than on that other day.

Hallblithe hailed him not, but said:  "King, look on my anguish, and
if thou art other than a king of dreams and lies, play no longer with
me, but tell me straight out if thou knowest of my troth-plight
maiden, whether she is in this land or not."

Then the King smiled on him and said:  "True it is that I know of
her; yet know I not whether she is in this land or not."

"King," said Hallblithe, "wilt thou bring us together and stay my
heart's bleeding?"

Said the King:  "I cannot, since I know not where she is."

"Why didst thou lie to me the other day?" said Hallblithe.

"I lied not," said the King; "I bade bring thee to the woman that
loved thee, and whom thou shouldst love; and that is my daughter.
And look thou!  Even as I may not bring thee to thine earthly love,
so couldst thou not make thyself manifest before my daughter, and
become her deathless love.  Is it not enough?"

He spake sternly for all that he smiled, and Hallblithe said:  "O
King, have pity on me!"

"Yea," said the King; "pity thee I do:  but I will live despite thy
sorrow; my pity of thee shall not slay me, or make thee happy.  Even
in such wise didst thou pity my daughter."

Said Hallblithe:  "Thou art mighty, O King, and maybe the mightiest.
Wilt thou not help me?"

"How can I help thee?" said the King, "thou who wilt not help
thyself.  Thou hast seen what thou shouldst do:  do it then and be
holpen."

Then said Hallblithe:  "Wilt thou not slay me, O King, since thou
wilt not do aught else?"

"Nay," said the King, "thy slaying wilt not serve me nor mine:  I
will neither help nor hinder.  Thou art free to seek thy love
wheresoever thou wilt in this my realm.  Depart in peace!"

Hallblithe saw that the King was angry, though he smiled upon him;
yet so coldly, that the face of him froze the very marrow of
Hallblithe's bones:  and he said within himself:  "This King of lies
shall not slay me, though mine anguish be hard to bear:  for I am
alive, and it may be that my love is in this land, and I may find her
here, and how to reach another land I know not."

So he turned from before the face of the King as the sun was setting,
and he went down the land southward betwixt the mountains and the
sea, not heeding whether it were night or day; and he went on till it
was long past midnight, and then for mere weariness laid him down
under a tree, not knowing where he was, and fell asleep.

And in the morning he woke up to the bright sun, and found folk
standing round about him, both men and women, and their sheep were
anigh them, for they were shepherd folk.  So when they saw that he
was awake, they greeted him, and were blithe with him and made much
of him:  and they took him home to their house, and gave him to eat
and to drink, and asked him what he would that they might serve him.
And they seemed to him to be kind and simple folk, and though he
loathed to speak the words, so sick at heart he was, yet he told them
how he was seeking his troth-plight maiden, his earthly love, and
asked them to say if they had seen any woman like her.

They heard him kindly and pitied him, and told him how they had heard
of a woman in the land, who sought her beloved even as he sought his.
And when he heard that, his heart leapt up, and he asked them to tell
him more concerning this woman.  Then they said that she dwelt in the
hill-country in a goodly house, and had set her heart on a lovely
man, whose image she had seen in a book, and that no man but this one
would content her; and this, they said, was a sad and sorry matter,
such as was unheard of hitherto in the land.

So when Hallblithe heard this, as heavily as his heart fell again, he
changed not countenance, but thanked the kind folk and departed, and
went on down the land betwixt the mountains and the sea, and before
nightfall he had been into three more houses of folk, and asked there
of all comers concerning a woman who was sundered from her beloved;
and at none of them gat he any answer to make him less sorry than
yesterday.  At the last of the three he slept, and on the morrow
early there was the work to begin again; and the next day was the
same as the last, and the day after differed not from it.  Thus he
went on seeking his beloved betwixt the mountains and the plain, till
the great rock-wall came down to the side of the sea and made an end
of the Glittering Plain on that side.  Then he turned about and went
back by the way he had come, and up the country betwixt the mountains
and the plain northward, until he had been into every house of folk
in those parts and asked his question.

Then he went up into that fair country of the dales, and even anigh
to where dwelt the King's Daughter, and otherwhere in the land and
everywhere, quartering the realm of the Glittering Plain as the heron
quarters the flooded meadow when the waters draw aback into the
river.  So that now all people knew him when he came, and they
wondered at him; but when he came to any house for the third or
fourth time, they wearied of him, and were glad when he departed.

Ever it was one of two answers that he had:  either folk said to him,
"There is no such woman; this land is happy, and nought but happy
people dwell herein;" or else they told him of the woman who lived in
sorrow, and was ever looking on a book, that she might bring to her
the man whom she desired.

Whiles he wearied and longed for death, but would not die until there
was no corner of the land unsearched.  Whiles he shook off weariness,
and went about his quest as a craftsman sets about his work in the
morning.  Whiles it irked him to see the soft and merry folk of the
land, who had no skill to help him, and he longed for the house of
his fathers and the men of the spear and the plough; and thought,
"Oh, if I might but get me back, if it were but for an hour and to
die there, to the meadows of the Raven, and the acres beneath the
mountains of Cleveland by the Sea.  Then at least should I learn some
tale of what is or what hath been, howsoever evil the tidings were,
and not be bandied about by lies for ever."



CHAPTER XV:  YET HALLBLITHE SPEAKETH WITH THE KING



So wore the days and the moons; and now were some six moons worn
since first he came to the Glittering Plain; and he was come to Wood-
end again, and heard and knew that the King was sitting once more in
the door of his pavilion to hearken to the words of his people, and
he said to himself:  "I will speak yet again to this man, if indeed
he be a man; yea, though he turn me into stone."

And he went up toward the pavilion; and on the way it came into his
mind what the men of the kindred were doing that morning; and he had
a vision of them as it were, and saw them yoking the oxen to the
plough, and slowly going down the acres, as the shining iron drew the
long furrow down the stubble-land, and the light haze hung about the
elm-trees in the calm morning, and the smoke rose straight into the
air from the roof of the kindred.  And he said:  "What is this? am I
death-doomed this morning that this sight cometh so clearly upon me
amidst the falseness of this unchanging land?"

Thus he came to the pavilion, and folk fell back before him to the
right and the left, and he stood before the King, and said to him:
"I cannot find her; she is not in thy land."

Then spake the King, smiling upon him, as erst:  "What wilt thou
then?  Is it not time to rest?"

He said:  "Yea, O King; but not in this land."

Said the King:  "Where else than in this land wilt thou find rest?
Without is battle and famine, longing unsatisfied, and heart-burning
and fear; within it is plenty and peace and good will and pleasure
without cease.  Thy word hath no meaning to me."

Said Hallblithe:  "Give me leave to depart, and I will bless thee."

"Is there nought else to do?" said the King.

"Nought else," said Hallblithe.

Therewith he felt that the King's face changed though he still smiled
on him, and again he felt his heart grow cold before the King.

But the King spake and said:  "I hinder not thy departure, nor will
any of my folk.  No hand will be raised against thee; there is no
weapon in all the land, save the deedless sword by my side and the
weapons which thou bearest."

Said Hallblithe:  "Dost thou not owe me a joy in return for my
beguiling?"

"Yea," said the King, "reach out thine hand to take it."

"One thing only may I take of thee," said Hallblithe; "my troth-
plight maiden or else the speeding of my departure."

Then said the King, and his voice was terrible though yet he smiled:
"I will not hinder; I will not help.  Depart in peace!"

Then Hallblithe turned away dizzy and half fainting, and strayed down
the field, scarce knowing where he was; and as he went he felt his
sleeve plucked at, and turned about, and lo! he was face to face with
the Sea-eagle, no less joyous than aforetime.  He took Hallblithe in
his arms and embraced him and kissed him, and said:  "Well met,
faring-fellow!  Whither away?"

"Away out of this land of lies," said Hallblithe.

The Sea-eagle shook his head, and quoth he:  "Art thou still seeking
a dream?  And thou so fair that thou puttest all other men to shame."

"I seek no dream," said Hallblithe, "but rather the end of dreams."

"Well," said the Sea-eagle, "we will not wrangle about it.  But
hearken.  Hard by in a pleasant nook of the meadows have I set up my
tent; and although it be not as big as the King's pavilion, yet is it
fair enough.  Wilt thou not come thither with me and rest thee to-
night; and to-morrow we will talk of this matter?"

Now Hallblithe was weary and confused, and downhearted beyond his
wont, and the friendly words of the Sea-eagle softened his heart, and
he smiled on him and said:  "I give thee thanks; I will come with
thee:  thou art kind, and hast done nought to me save good from the
time when I first saw thee lying in thy bed in the Hall of the
Ravagers.  Dost thou remember the day?"

The Sea-eagle knitted his brow as one striving with a troublous
memory, and said:  "But dimly, friend, as if it had passed in an ugly
dream:  meseemeth my friendship with thee began when I came to thee
from out of the wood, and saw thee standing with those three damsels;
that I remember full well ye were fair to look on."

Hallblithe wondered at his words, but said no more about it, and they
went together to a flowery nook nigh a stream of clear water where
stood a silken tent, green like the grass which it stood on, and
flecked with gold and goodly colours.  Nigh it on the grass lay the
Sea-eagle's damsel, ruddy-cheeked and sweet-lipped, as fair as
aforetime.  She turned about when she heard men coming, and when she
saw Hallblithe a smile came into her face like the sun breaking out
on a fair but clouded morning, and she went up to him and took him by
the hands and kissed his cheek, and said:  "Welcome, Spearman!
welcome back!  We have heard of thee in many places, and have been
sorry that thou wert not glad, and now are we fain of thy returning.
Shall not sweet life begin for thee from henceforward?"

Again was Hallblithe moved by her kind welcome; but he shook his head
and spake:  "Thou art kind, sister; yet if thou wouldst be kinder
thou wilt show me a way whereby I may escape from this land.  For
abiding here has become irksome to me, and meseemeth that hope is yet
alive without the Glittering Plain."

Her face fell as she answered:  "Yea, and fear also, and worse, if
aught be worse.  But come, let us eat and drink in this fair place,
and gather for thee a little joyance before thou departest, if thou
needs must depart."

He smiled on her as one not ill-content, and laid himself down on the
grass, while the twain busied themselves, and brought forth fair
cushions and a gilded table, and laid dainty victual thereon and good
wine.

So they ate and drank together, and the Sea-eagle and his mate became
very joyous again, and Hallblithe bestirred himself not to be a mar-
feast; for he said within himself:  "I am departing, and after this
time I shall see them no more; and they are kind and blithe with me,
and have been aforetime; I will not make their merry hearts sore.
For when I am gone I shall be remembered of them but a little while."



CHAPTER XVI:  THOSE THREE GO THEIR WAYS TO THE EDGE OF THE GLITTERING
PLAIN



So the evening wore merrily; and they made Hallblithe lie in an ingle
of the tent on a fair bed, and he was weary, and slept thereon like a
child.  But in the morning early they waked him; and while they were
breaking their fast they began to speak to him of his departure, and
asked him if he had an inkling of the way whereby he should get him
gone, and he said:  "If I escape it must needs be by way of the
mountains that wall the land about till they come down to the sea.
For on the sea is no ship and no haven; and well I wot that no man of
the land durst or can ferry me over to the land of my kindred, or
otherwhere without the Glittering Plain.  Tell me therefore (and I
ask no more of you), is there any rumour or memory of a way that
cleaveth yonder mighty wall of rock to other lands?"

Said the damsel:  "There is more than a memory or a rumour:  there is
a road through the mountains known to all men.  For at whiles the
earthly pilgrims come into the Glittering Plain thereby; and yet but
seldom, so many are the griefs and perils which beset the wayfarers
on that road.  Whereof thou hadst far better bethink thee in time,
and abide here and be happy with us and others who long sore to make
thee happy."

"Nay," said Hallblithe, "there is nought to do but tell me of the
way, and I will depart at once, blessing you."

Said the Sea-eagle:  "More than that at least will we do.  May I lose
the bliss whereto I have attained, if I go not with thee to the very
edge of the land of the Glittering Plain.  Shall it not be so,
sweetheart?"

"Yea, at least we may do that," said the damsel; and she hung her
head as if she were ashamed, and said:  "And that is all that thou
wilt get from us at most."

Said Hallblithe:  "It is enough, and I asked not so much."

Then the damsel busied herself, and set meat and drink in two
wallets, and took one herself and gave the other to the Sea-eagle,
and said:  "We will be thy porters, O Spearman, and will give thee a
full wallet from the last house by the Desert of Dread, for when thou
hast entered therein, thou mayst well find victual hard to come by:
and now let us linger no more since the road is dear to thee."

So they set forth on foot, for in that land men were slow to feel
weariness; and turning about the hill of Wood-end, they passed by
some broken country, and came at even to a house at the entrance of a
long valley, with high and steeply-sloping sides, which seemed, as it
were, to cleave the dale country wherein they had fared aforetime.
At that house they slept well-guested by its folk, and the next
morning took their way down the valley, and the folk of the house
stood at the door to watch their departure; for they had told the
wayfarers that they had fared but a little way thitherward and knew
of no folk who had used that road.

So those three fared down the valley southward all day, ever mounting
higher as they went.  The way was pleasant and easy, for they went
over fair, smooth, grassy lawns betwixt the hill-sides, beside a
clear rattling stream that ran northward; at whiles were clumps of
tall trees, oak for the most part, and at whiles thickets of thorn
and eglantine and other such trees:  so that they could rest well
shaded when they would.

They passed by no house of men, nor came to any such in the even, but
lay down to sleep in a thicket of thorn and eglantine, and rested
well, and on the morrow they rose up betimes and went on their ways.

This second day as they went, the hill-sides on either hand grew
lower, till at last they died out into a wide plain, beyond which in
the southern offing the mountains rose huge and bare.  This plain
also was grassy and beset with trees and thickets here and there.
Hereon they saw wild deer enough, as hart and buck, and roebuck and
swine:  withal a lion came out of a brake hard by them as they went,
and stood gazing on them, so that Hallblithe looked to his weapons,
and the Sea-eagle took up a big stone to fight with, being
weaponless; but the damsel laughed, and tripped on her way lightly
with girt-up gown, and the beast gave no more heed to them.

Easy and smooth was their way over this pleasant wilderness, and
clear to see, though but little used, and before nightfall, after
they had gone a long way, they came to a house.  It was not large nor
high, but was built very strongly and fairly of good ashlar:  its
door was shut, and on the jamb thereof hung a slug-horn.  The damsel,
who seemed to know what to do, set her mouth to the horn, and blew a
blast; and in a little while the door was opened, and a big man clad
in red scarlet stood therein:  he had no weapons, but was somewhat
surly of aspect:  he spake not, but stood abiding the word:  so the
damsel took it up and said:  "Art thou not the Warden of the
Uttermost House?"

He said:  "I am."

Said the damsel:  "May we guest here to-night?"

He said:  "The house lieth open to you with all that it hath of
victual and plenishing:  take what ye will, and use what ye will."

They thanked him; but he heeded not their thanks, and withdrew him
from them.  So they entered and found the table laid in a fair hall
of stone carven and painted very goodly; so they ate and drank
therein, and Hallblithe was of good heart, and the Sea-eagle and his
mate were merry, though they looked softly and shyly on Hallblithe
because of the sundering anigh; and they saw no man in the house save
the man in scarlet, who went and came about his business, paying no
heed to them.  So when the night was deep they lay down in the shut-
bed off the hall, and slept, and the hours were tidingless to them
until they woke in the morning.

On the morrow they arose and broke their fast, and thereafter the
damsel spake to the man in scarlet and said:  "May we fill our
wallets with victual for the way?"

Said the Warden:  "There lieth the meat."

So they filled their wallets, while the man looked on; and they came
to the door when they were ready, and he unlocked it to them, saying
no word.  But when they turned their faces towards the mountains he
spake at last, and stayed them at the first step.  Quoth he:
"Whither away?  Ye take the wrong road!"

Said Hallblithe:  "Nay, for we go toward the mountains and the edge
of the Glittering Plain."

"Ye shall do ill to go thither," said the Warden, "and I bid you
forbear."

"O Warden of the Uttermost House, wherefore should we forbear?" said
the Sea-eagle.

Said the scarlet man:  "Because my charge is to further those who
would go inward to the King, and to stay those who would go outward
from the King."

"How then if we go outward despite thy bidding?" said the Sea-eagle,
"wilt thou then hinder us perforce?"

"How may I," said the man, "since thy fellow hath weapons?"

"Go we forth, then," said the Sea-eagle.

"Yea," said the damsel, "we will go forth.  And know, O Warden, that
this weaponed man only is of mind to fare over the edge of the
Glittering Plain; but we twain shall come back hither again, and fare
inwards."

Said the Warden:  "Nought is it to me what ye will do when you are
past this house.  Nor shall any man who goeth out of this garth
toward the mountains ever come back inwards save he cometh in the
company of new-corners to the Glittering Plain."

"Who shall hinder him?" said the Sea-eagle.

"The KING," said the Warden.

Then there was silence awhile, and the man said:

"Now do as ye will."  And therewith he turned back into the house and
shut the door.

But the Sea-eagle and the damsel stood gazing on one another, and at
Hallblithe; and the damsel was downcast and pale; but the Sea-eagle
cried out:

"Forward now, O Hallblithe, since thou willest it, and we will go
with thee and share whatever may befall thee; yea, right up to the
very edge of the Glittering Plain.  And thou, O beloved, why dost
thou delay?  Why dost thou stand as if thy fair feet were grown to
the grass?"

But the damsel gave a lamentable cry, and cast herself down on the
ground, and knelt before the Sea-eagle, and took him by the knees,
and said betwixt sobbing and weeping:  "O my lord and love, I pray
thee to forbear, and the Spearman, our friend, shall pardon us.  For
if thou goest, I shall never see thee more, since my heart will not
serve me to go with thee.  O forbear!  I pray thee!"

And she grovelled on the earth before him; and the Sea-eagle waxed
red, and would have spoken but Hallblithe cut his speech across, and
said "Friends, be at peace!  For this is the minute that sunders us.
Get ye back at once to the heart of the Glittering Plain, and live
there and be happy; and take my blessing and thanks for the love and
help that ye have given me.  For your going forward with me should
destroy you and profit me nothing.  It would be but as the host
bringing his guests one field beyond his garth, when their goal is
the ends of the earth; and if there were a lion in the path, why
should he perish for courtesy's sake?"

Therewith he stooped down to the damsel, and lifted her up and kissed
her face; and he cast his arms about the Sea-eagle and said to him:
"Farewell, shipmate!"

Then the damsel gave him the wallet of victual, and bade him
farewell, weeping sorely; and he looked kindly on them for a moment
of time, and then turned away from them and fared on toward the
mountains, striding with great strides, holding his head aloft.  But
they looked no more on him, having no will to eke their sorrow, but
went their ways back again without delay.



CHAPTER XVII:  HALLBLITHE AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS



So strode on Hallblithe; but when he had gone but a little way his
head turned, and the earth and heavens wavered before him, so that he
must needs sit down on a stone by the wayside, wondering what ailed
him.  Then he looked up at the mountains, which now seemed quite near
to him at the plain's ending, and his weakness increased on him; and
lo! as he looked, it was to him as if the crags rose up in the sky to
meet him and overhang him, and as if the earth heaved up beneath him,
and therewith he fell aback and lost all sense, so that he knew not
what was become of the earth and the heavens and the passing of the
minutes of his life.

When he came to himself he knew not whether he had lain so a great
while or a little; he felt feeble, and for a while he lay scarce
moving, and beholding nought, not even the sky above him.  Presently
he turned about and saw hard stone on either side, so he rose wearily
and stood upon his feet, and knew that he was faint with hunger and
thirst.  Then he looked around him, and saw that he was in a narrow
valley or cleft of the mountains amidst wan rocks, bare and
waterless, where grew no blade of green; but he could see no further
than the sides of that cleft, and he longed to be out of it that he
might see whitherward to turn.  Then he bethought him of his wallet,
and set his hand to it and opened it, thinking to get victual thence;
but lo! it was all spoilt and wasted.  None the less, for all his
feebleness, he turned and went toiling slowly along what seemed to be
a path little trodden leading upward out of the cleft; and at last he
reached the crest thereof, and sat him down on a rock on the other
side; yet durst not raise his eyes awhile and look on the land, lest
he should see death manifest therein.  At last he looked, and saw
that he was high up amongst the mountain-peaks:  before him and on
either hand was but a world of fallow stone rising ridge upon ridge
like the waves of the wildest of the winter sea.  The sun not far
from its midmost shone down bright and hot on that wilderness; yet
was there no sign that any man had ever been there since the
beginning of the world, save that the path aforesaid seemed to lead
onward down the stony slope.

This way and that way and all about he gazed, straining his eyes if
perchance he might see any diversity in the stony waste; and at last
betwixt two peaks of the rock-wall on his left hand he descried a
streak of green mingling with the cold blue of the distance; and he
thought in his heart that this was the last he should see of the
Glittering Plain.  Then he spake aloud in that desert, and said,
though there was none to hear:  "Now is my last hour come; and here
is Hallblithe of the Raven perishing, with his deeds undone and his
longing unfulfilled, and his bridal-bed acold for ever.  Long may the
House of the Raven abide and flourish, with many a man and maiden,
valiant and fair and fruitful!  O kindred, cast thy blessing on this
man about to die here, doing none otherwise than ye would have him!"

He sat there a little while longer, and then he said to himself:
"Death tarries; were it not well that I go to meet him, even as the
cot-carle preventeth the mighty chieftain?"

Then he arose, and went painfully down the slope, steadying himself
with the shaft of his gleaming spear; but all at once he stopped; for
it seemed to him that he heard voices borne on the wind that blew up
the mountain-side.  But he shook his head and said:  "Now forsooth
beginneth the dream which shall last for ever; nowise am I beguiled
by it."  None the less he strove the more eagerly with the wind and
the way and his feebleness; yet did the weakness wax on him, so that
it was but a little while ere he faltered and reeled and fell down
once more in a swoon.

When he came to himself again he was no longer alone:  a man was
kneeling down by him and holding up his head, while another before
him, as he opened his eyes, put a cup of wine to his lips.  So
Hallblithe drank and was refreshed; and presently they gave him
bread, and he ate, and his heart was strengthened, and the happiness
of life returned to it, and he lay back, and slept sweetly for a
season.

When he awoke from that slumber he found that he had gotten back much
of his strength again, and he sat up and looked around him, and saw
three men sitting anigh, armed and girt with swords, yet in evil
array, and sore travel-worn.  One of these was very old, with long
white hair hanging down; and another, though he was not so much
stricken in years, still looked an old man of over sixty winters.
The third was a man some forty years old, but sad and sorry and
drooping of aspect.

So when they saw him stirring, they all fixed their eyes upon him,
and the oldest man said:  "Welcome to him who erst had no tidings for
us!"  And the second said:  "Tell us now thy tidings."  But the
third, the sorry man, cried out aloud, saying:  "Where is the Land?
Where is the Land?"

Said Hallblithe:  "Meseemeth the land which ye seek is the land which
I seek to flee from.  And now I will not hide that meseemeth I have
seen you before, and that was at Cleveland by the Sea when the days
were happier."

Then they all three bowed their heads in yea-say, and spake:  "'Where
is the Land?  Where is the Land?"

Then Hallblithe arose to his feet, and said:  "Ye have healed me of
the sickness of death, and I will do what I may to heal you of your
sickness of sorrow.  Come up the pass with me, and I will show you
the land afar off."

Then they arose like young and brisk men, and he led them over the
brow of the ridge into the little valley wherein he had first come to
himself:  there he showed them that glimpse of a green land betwixt
the two peaks, which he had beheld e'en now; and they stood a while
looking at it and weeping for joy.

Then spake the oldest of the seekers:  "Show us the way to the land."

"Nay," said Hallblithe, "I may not; for when I would depart thence, I
might not go by mine own will, but was borne out hither, I wot not
how.  For when I came to the edge of the land against the will of the
King, he smote me, and then cast me out.  Therefore since I may not
help you, find ye the land for yourselves, and let me go blessing
you, and come out of this desert by the way whereby ye entered it.
For I have an errand in the world."

Spake the youngest of the seekers:  "Now art thou become the yoke-
fellow of Sorrow, and thou must wend, not whither thou wouldst, but
whither she will:  and she would have thee go forward toward life,
not backward toward death."

Said the midmost seeker:  "If we let thee go further into the
wilderness thou shalt surely die:  for hence to the peopled parts,
and the City of Merchants, whence we come, is a month's journey:  and
there is neither meat nor drink, nor beast nor bird, nor any green
thing all that way; and since we have found thee famishing, we may
well deem that thou hast no victual.  As to us we have but little; so
that if it be much more than three days' journey to the Glittering
Plain, we may well starve and die within sight of the Acre of the
Undying.  Nevertheless that little will we share with thee if thou
wilt help us to find that good land; so that thou mayst yet put away
Sorrow, and take Joy again to thy board and bed."

Hallblithe hung his head and answered nought; for he was confused by
the meshes of ill-hap, and his soul grew sick with the bitterness of
death.  But the sad man spake again and said:  "Thou hast an errand
sayest thou? is it such as a dead man may do?"

Hallblithe pondered, and amidst the anguish of his despair was borne
in on him a vision of the sea-waves lapping the side of a black ship,
and a man therein:  who but himself, set free to do his errand, and
his heart was quickened within him, and he said:  "I thank you, and I
will wend back with you, since there is no road for me save back
again into the trap."

The three seekers seemed glad thereat, and the second one said:
"Though death is pursuing, and life lieth ahead, yet will we not
hasten thee unduly.  Time was when I was Captain of the Host, and
learned how battles were lost by lack of rest.  Therefore have thy
sleep now, that thou mayst wax in strength for our helping."

Said Hallblithe:  "I need not rest; I may not rest; I will not rest."

Said the sad man:  "It is lawful for thee to rest.  So say I, who was
once a master of law."

Said the long-hoary elder:  "And I command thee to rest; I who was
once the king of a mighty folk."

In sooth Hallblithe was now exceeding weary; so he laid him down and
slept sweetly in the stony wilderness amidst those three seekers, the
old, the sad, and the very old.

When he awoke he felt well and strong again, and he leapt to his feet
and looked about him, and saw the three seekers stirring, and he
deemed by the sun that it was early morning.  The sad man brought
forth bread and water and wine, and they broke their fast; and when
they had done he spake and said:  "Abideth now in wallet and bottle
but one more full meal for us, and then no more save a few crumbs and
a drop or two of wine if we husband it well."

Said the second elder:  "Get we to the road, then, and make haste.  I
have been seeking, and meseemeth, though the way be long, it is not
utterly blind for us.  Or look thou, Raven-son, is there not a path
yonder that leadeth onward up to the brow of the ghyll again? and as
I have seen, it leadeth on again down from the said brow."

Forsooth there was a track that led through the stony tangle of the
wilderness; so they took to the road with a good heart, and went all
day, and saw no living thing, and not a blade of grass or a trickle
of water:  nought save the wan rocks under the sun; and though they
trusted in their road that it led them aright, they saw no other
glimpse of the Glittering Plain, because there rose a great ridge
like a wall on the north side, and they went as it were down along a
trench of the rocks, albeit it was whiles broken across by ghylls,
and knolls, and reefs.

So at sunset they rested and ate their victual, for they were very
weary; and thereafter they lay down, and slept as soundly as if they
were in the best of the halls of men.  On the morrow betimes they
arose soberly and went their ways with few words, and, as they
deemed, the path still led them onward.  And now the great ridge on
the north rose steeper and steeper, and their crossing it seemed not
to be thought of; but their half-blind track failed them not.  They
rested at even, and ate and drank what little they had left, save a
mouthful or two of wine, and then went on again by the light of the
moon, which was so bright that they still saw their way.  And it
happened to Hallblithe, as mostly it does with men very travel-worn,
that he went on and on scarce remembering where he was, or who his
fellows were, or that he had any fellows.

So at midnight they lay down in the wilderness again, hungry and
weary.  They rose at dawn and went forward with waning hope:  for now
the mountain ridge on the north was close to their path, rising up
along a sheer wall of pale stone over which nothing might go save the
fowl flying; so that at first on that morning they looked for nothing
save to lay their bones in that grievous desert where no man should
find them.

But, as beset with famine, they fared on heavily down the narrow
track, there came a hoarse cry from Hallblithe's dry throat and it
was as if his cry had been answered by another like to his; and the
seekers turned and beheld him pointing to the cliff-side, and lo!
half-way up the pale sun-litten crag stood two ravens in a cranny of
the stone, flapping their wings and croaking, with thrusting forth
and twisting of their heads; and presently they came floating on the
thin pure air high up over the heads of the wayfarers, croaking for
the pleasure of the meeting, as though they laughed thereat.

Then rose the heart of Hallblithe, and he smote his palms together,
and fell to singing an old song of his people, amidst the rocks
whereas few men had sung aforetime.


Whence are ye and whither, O fowl of our fathers?
What field have ye looked on, what acres unshorn?
What land have ye left where the battle-folk gathers,
And the war-helms are white o'er the paths of the corn?

What tale do ye bear of the people uncraven,
Where amidst the long hall-shadow sparkle the spears;
Where aloft on the hall-ridge now flappeth the raven,
And singeth the song of the nourishing years?

There gather the lads in the first of the morning,
While white lies the battle-day's dew on the grass,
And the kind steeds trot up to the horn's voice of warning,
And the winds wake and whine in the dusk of the pass.

O fowl of our fathers, why now are ye resting?
Come over the mountains and look on the foe.
Full fair after fight won shall yet be your nesting;
And your fledglings the sons of the kindred shall know.


Therewith he strode with his head upraised, and above him flew the
ravens, croaking as if they answered his song in friendly fashion.

It was but a little after this that the path turned aside sharp
toward the cliffs, and the seekers were abashed thereof, till
Hallblithe running forward beheld a great cavern in the face of the
cliff at the path's ending:  so he turned and cried on his fellows,
and they hastened up, and presently stood before that cavern's mouth
with doubt and joy mingled in their minds; for now, mayhappen, they
had reached the gate of the Glittering Plain, or mayhappen the gate
of death.

The sad man hung his head and spake:  "Doth not some new trap abide
us?  What do we here? is this aught save death?"

Spake the Elder of Elders:  "Was not death on either hand e'en now,
even as treason besetteth the king upon his throne?"

And the second said:  "Yea, we were as the host which hath no road
save through the multitude of foe-men."

But Hallblithe laughed and said:  "Why do ye hang back, then?  As for
me, if death be here, soon is mine errand sped."  Therewith he led
the way into the dark of the cave, and the ravens hung about the crag
overhead croaking, as the men left the light.

So was their way swallowed up in the cavern, and day and its time
became nought to them; they went on and on, and became exceeding
faint and weary, but rested not, for death was behind them.  Whiles
they deemed they heard waters running, and whiles the singing of
fowl; and to Hallblithe it seemed that he heard his name called, so
that he shouted back in answer; but all was still when the sound of
his voice had died out.

At last, when they were pressing on again after a short while of
resting, Hallblithe cried out that the cave was lightening:  so they
hastened onward, and the light grew till they could dimly see each
other, and dimly they beheld the cave that it was both wide and high.
Yet a little further, and their faces showed white to one another,
and they could see the crannies of the rocks, and the bats hanging
garlanded from the roof.  So then they came to where the day streamed
down bright on them from a break overhead, and lo! the sky and green
leaves waving against it.

To those way-worn men it seemed hard to clamber out that way, and
especially to the elders:  so they went on a little further to see if
there were aught better abiding them, but when they found the
daylight failing them again, they turned back to the place of the
break in the roof, lest they should waste their strength and perish
in the bowels of the mountain.  So with much ado they hove up
Hallblithe till he got him first on to a ledge of the rocky wall, and
so, what by strength, what by cunning, into the daylight through the
rent in the roof.  So when he was without he made a rope of his
girdle and strips from his raiment, for he was ever a deft craftsman,
and made a shift to heave up therewith the sad man, who was light and
lithe of body; and then the two together dealt with the elders one
after another, till they were all four on the face of the earth
again.

The place whereto they had gotten was the side of a huge mountain,
stony and steep, but set about with bushes, which seemed full fair to
those wanderers amongst the rocks.  This mountain-slope went down
towards a fair green plain, which Hallblithe made no doubt was the
outlying waste of the Glittering Plain:  nay, he deemed that he could
see afar off thereon the white walls of the Uttermost House.  So much
he told the seekers in few words; and then while they grovelled on
the earth and wept for pure joy, whereas the sun was down and it was
beginning to grow dusk, he went and looked around soberly to see if
he might find water and any kind of victual; and presently a little
down the hillside he came upon a place where a spring came gushing up
out of the earth and ran down toward the plain; and about it was
green grass growing plentifully, and a little thicket of bramble and
wilding fruit-trees.  So he drank of the water, and plucked him a few
wilding apples somewhat better than crabs, and then went up the hill
again and fetched the seekers to that mountain hostelry; and while
they drank of the stream he plucked them apples and bramble-berries.
For indeed they were as men out of their wits, and were dazed by the
extremity of their jog, and as men long shut up in prison, to whom
the world of men-folk hath become strange.  Simple as the victual
was, they were somewhat strengthened by it and by the plentiful
water, and as night was now upon them, it was of no avail for them to
go further:  so they slept beneath the boughs of the thorn-bushes.



CHAPTER XVIII:  HALLBLITHE DWELLETH IN THE WOOD ALONE



But on the morrow they arose betimes, and broke their fast on that
woodland victual, and then went speedily down the mountain-side; and
Hallblithe saw by the clear morning light that it was indeed the
Uttermost House which he had seen across the green waste.  So he told
the seekers; but they were silent and heeded nought, because of a
fear that had come upon them, lest they should die before they came
into that good land.  At the foot of the mountain they came upon a
river, deep but not wide, with low grassy banks, and Hallblithe, who
was an exceeding strong swimmer, helped the seekers over without much
ado; and there they stood upon the grass of that goodly waste.

Hallblithe looked on them to note if any change should come over
them, and he deemed that already they were become stronger and of
more avail.  But he spake nought thereof, and strode on toward the
Uttermost House, even as that other day he had stridden away from it.

Such diligence they made, that it was but little after noon when they
came to the door thereof.  Then Hallblithe took the horn and blew
upon it, while his fellows stood by murmuring, "It is the Land!  It
is the Land!"

So came the Warden to the door, clad in red scarlet, and the elder
went up to him and said:  "Is this the Land?"

"What land?" said the Warden.

"Is it the Glittering Plain?" said the second of the seekers.

"Yea, forsooth," said the Warden.  Said the sad man:  "Will ye lead
us to the King?

"Ye shall come to the King," said the Warden.

"When, oh when?" cried they out all three.

"The morrow of to-morrow, maybe," said the Warden.

"Oh! if to-morrow were but come!" they cried.

"It will come," said the red man; "enter ye the house, and eat and
drink and rest you."

So they entered, and the Warden heeded Hallblithe nothing.  They ate
and drank and then went to their rest, and Hallblithe lay in a shut-
bed off from the hall, but the Warden brought the seekers otherwhere,
so that Hallblithe saw them not after he had gone to bed; but as for
him he slept and forgot that aught was.

In the morning when he awoke he felt very strong and well-liking; and
he beheld his limbs that they were clear of skin and sleek and fair;
and he heard one hard by in the hall carolling and singing joyously.
So he sprang from his bed with the wonder of sleep yet in him, and
drew the curtains of the shut-bed and looked forth into the hall; and
lo on the high-seat a man of thirty winters by seeming, tall, fair of
fashion, with golden hair and eyes as grey as glass, proud and noble
of aspect; and anigh him sat another man of like age to look on, a
man strong and burly, with short curling brown hair and a red beard,
and ruddy countenance, and the mien of a warrior.  Also, up and down
the hall, paced a man younger of aspect than these two, tall and
slender, black-haired and dark-eyed, amorous of countenance; he it
was who was singing a snatch of song as he went lightly on the hall
pavement:  a snatch like to this


Fair is the world, now autumn's wearing,
And the sluggard sun lies long abed;
Sweet are the days, now winter's nearing,
And all winds feign that the wind is dead.

Dumb is the hedge where the crabs hang yellow,
Bright as the blossoms of the spring;
Dumb is the close where the pears grow mellow,
And none but the dauntless redbreasts sing.

Fair was the spring, but amidst his greening
Grey were the days of the hidden sun;
Fair was the summer, but overweening,
So soon his o'er-sweet days were done.

Come then, love, for peace is upon us,
Far off is failing, and far is fear,
Here where the rest in the end hath won us,
In the garnering tide of the happy year.

Come from the grey old house by the water,
Where, far from the lips of the hungry sea,
Green groweth the grass o'er the field of the slaughter,
And all is a tale for thee and me.


So Hallblithe did on his raiment and went into the hall; and when
those three saw him they smiled upon him kindly and greeted him; and
the noble man at the board said:  "Thanks have thou, O Warrior of the
Raven, for thy help in our need:  thy reward from us shall not be
lacking."

Then the brown-haired man came up to him, and clapped him on the back
and said to him:  "Brisk man of the Raven, good is thy help at need;
even so shall be mine to thee henceforward."

But the young man stepped up to him lightly, and cast his arms about
him, and kissed him, and said:  "O friend and fellow, who knoweth but
I may one day help thee as thou hast holpen me? though thou art one
who by seeming mayst well help thyself.  And now mayst thou be as
merry as I am to-day!"

Then they all three cried out joyously:  "It is the Land!  It is the
Land!"

So Hallblithe knew that these men were the two elders and the sad man
of yesterday, and that they had renewed their youth.

Joyously now did those men break their fast:  nor did Hallblithe make
any grim countenance, for he thought:  "That which these dotards and
drivellers have been mighty enough to find, shall I not be mighty
enough to flee from?"  Breakfast done, the seekers made little delay,
so eager as they were to behold the King, and to have handsel of
their new sweet life.  So they got them ready to depart, and the
once-captain said:  "Art thou able to lead us to the King, O Raven-
son, or must we seek another man to do so much for us?"

Said Hallblithe:  "I am able to lead you so nigh unto Wood-end
(where, as I deem, the King abideth) that ye shall not miss him."

Therewith they went to the door, and the Warden unlocked to them, and
spake no word to them when they departed, though they thanked him
kindly for the guesting.

When they were without the garth, the young man fell to running about
the meadow plucking great handfuls of the rich flowers that grew
about, singing and carolling the while.  But he who had been king
looked up and down and round about, and said at last:  "Where be the
horses and the men?"

But his fellow with the red beard said:  "Raven-son, in this land
when they journey, what do they as to riding or going afoot?"

Said Hallblithe:  "Fair fellows, ye shall wot that in this land folk
go afoot for the most part, both men and women; whereas they weary
but little, and are in no haste."

Then the once-captain clapped the once-king on the shoulder, and
said:  "Hearken, lord, and delay no longer, but gird up thy gown,
since here is no mare's son to help thee:  for fair is to-day that
lies before us, with many a new fair day beyond it."

So Hallblithe led the way inward, thinking of many things, yet but
little of his fellows.  Albeit they, and the younger man especially,
were of many words; for this black-haired man had many questions to
ask, chiefly concerning the women, what they were like to look on,
and of what mood they were.  Hallblithe answered thereto as long as
he might, but at last he laughed and said:  "Friend, forbear thy
questions now; for meseemeth in a few hours thou shalt be as wise
hereon as is the God of Love himself."

So they made diligence along the road, and all was tidingless till on
the second day at even they came to the first house off the waste.
There had they good welcome, and slept.  But on the morrow when they
arose, Hallblithe spake to the Seekers, and said:  "Now are things
much changed betwixt us since the time when we first met:  for then I
had all my desire, as I thought, and ye had but one desire, and well
nigh lacked hope of its fulfilment.  Whereas now the lack hath left
you and come to me.  Wherefore even as time agone ye might not abide
even one night at the House of the Raven, so hard as your desire lay
on you; even so it fareth with me to-day, that I am consumed with my
desire, and I may not abide with you; lest that befall which
befalleth betwixt the full man and the fasting.  Wherefore now I
bless you and depart."

They abounded in words of good-will to him, and the once-king said:
"Abide with us, and we shall see to it that thou have all the
dignities that a man may think of."

And the once-captain said:  "Lo, here is mine hand that hath been
mighty; never shalt thou lack it for the accomplishment of thine
uttermost desire.  Abide with us."

Lastly said the young man:  "Abide with us, Son of the Raven!  Set
thine heart on a fair woman, yea even were it the fairest; and I will
get her for thee, even were my desire set on her."

But he smiled on them, and shook his head, and said:  "All hail to
you! but mine errand is yet undone."  And therewith he departed.

He skirted Wood-end and came not to it, but got him down to the side
of the sea, not far from where he first came aland, but somewhat
south of it.  A fair oak-wood came down close to the beach of the
sea; it was some four miles end-long and over-thwart.  Thither
Hallblithe betook him, and in a day or two got him wood-wright's
tools from a house of men a little outside the wood, three miles from
the sea-shore.  Then he set to work and built him a little frame-
house on a lawn of the wood beside a clear stream; for he was a very
deft wood-wright.  Withal he made him a bow and arrows, and shot what
he would of the fowl and the deer for his livelihood; and folk from
that house and otherwhence came to see him, and brought him bread and
wine and spicery and other matters which he needed.  And the days
wore, and men got used to him, and loved him as if he had been a rare
image which had been brought to that land for its adornment; and now
they no longer called him the Spearman, but the Wood-lover.  And as
for him, he took all in patience, abiding what the lapse of days
should bring forth.



CHAPTER XIX:  HALLBLITHE BUILDS HIM A SKIFF



After Hallblithe had been housed a little while, and the time was
again drawing nigh to the twelfth moon since he had come to the
Glittering Plain, he went in the wood one day; and, pondering many
things without fixing on any one, he stood before a very great oak-
tree and looked at the tall straight bole thereof, and there came
into his head the words of an old song which was written round a
scroll of the carving over the shut-bed, wherein he was wont to lie
when he was at home in the House of the Raven:  and thus it said:


I am the oak-tree, and forsooth
Men deal by me with little ruth;
My boughs they shred, my life they slay,
And speed me o'er the watery way.


He looked up into that leafy world for a little and then turned back
toward his house; but all day long, whether he were at work or at
rest, that posy ran in his head, and he kept on saying it over, aloud
or not aloud, till the day was done and he went to sleep.

Then in his sleep he dreamed that an exceeding fair woman stood by
his bedside, and at first she seemed to him to be an image of the
Hostage.  But presently her face changed, and her body and her
raiment; and, lo! it was the lovely woman, the King's daughter whom
he had seen wasting her heart for the love of him.  Then even in his
dream shame thereof overtook him, and because of that shame he awoke,
and lay awake a little, hearkening the wind going through the
woodland boughs, and the singing of the owl who had her dwelling in
the hollow oak nigh to his house.  Slumber overcame him in a little
while, and again the image of the King's daughter came to him in his
dream, and again when he looked upon her, shame and pity rose so
hotly in his heart that he awoke weeping, and lay a while hearkening
to the noises of the night.  The third time he slept and dreamed; and
once more that image came to him.  And now he looked, and saw that
she had in her hand a book covered outside with gold and gems, even
as he saw it in the orchard-close aforetime:  and he beheld her face
that it was no longer the face of one sick with sorrow; but glad and
clear, and most beauteous.

Now she opened the book and held it before Hallblithe and turned the
leaves so that he might see them clearly; and therein were woods and
castles painted, and burning mountains, and the wall of the world,
and kings upon their thrones, and fair women and warriors, all most
lovely to behold, even as he had seen it aforetime in the orchard
when he lay lurking amidst the leaves of the bay-tree.

So at last she came to the place in the book wherein was painted
Hallblithe's own image over against the image of the Hostage; and he
looked thereon and longed.  But she turned the leaf, and, lo! on one
side the Hostage again, standing in a fair garden of the spring with
the lilies all about her feet, and behind her the walls of a house,
grey, ancient, and lovely:  and on the other leaf over against her
was painted a sea rippled by a little wind and a boat thereon sailing
swiftly, and one man alone in the boat sitting and steering with a
cheerful countenance; and he, who but Hallblithe himself.  Hallblithe
looked thereon for a while and then the King's daughter shut the
book, and the dream flowed into other imaginings of no import.

In the grey dawn Hallblithe awoke, and called to mind his dream, and
he leapt from his bed and washed the night from off him in the
stream, and clad himself and went the shortest way through the wood
to that House of folk aforesaid:  and as he went his face was bright
and he sang the second part of the carven posy; to wit:


Along the grass I lie forlorn
That when a while of time is worn,
I may be filled with war and peace
And bridge the sundering of the seas.


He came out of the wood and hastened over the flowery meads of the
Glittering Plain, and came to that same house when it was yet very
early.  At the door he came across a damsel bearing water from the
well, and she spake to him and said:  "Welcome, Wood-lover!  Seldom
art thou seen in our garth; and that is a pity of thee.  And now I
look on thy face I see that gladness hath come into thine heart, and
that thou art most fair and lovely.  Here then is a token for thee of
the increase of gladness."  Therewith she set her buckets on the
earth, and stood before him, and took him by the ears, and drew down
his face to hers and kissed him sweetly.  He smiled on her and said:
"I thank thee, sister, for the kiss and the greeting; but I come here
having a lack."

"Tell us," she said, "that we may do thee a pleasure."

He said:  "I would ask the folk to give me timber, both beams and
battens and boards; for if I hew in the wood it will take long to
season."

"All this is free for thee to take from our wood-store when thou hast
broken thy fast with us," said the damsel.  "Come thou in and rest
thee."

She took him by the hand and they went in together, and she gave him
to eat and drink, and went up and down the house, saying to every
one:  "Here is come the Wood-lover, and he is glad again; come and
see him."

So the folk gathered about him, and made much of him.  And when they
had made an end of breakfast, the head man of the House said to him:
"The beasts are in the wain, and the timber abideth thy choosing;
come and see."

So he brought Hallblithe to the timber-bower, where he chose for
himself all that he needed of oak-timber of the best; and they loaded
the wain therewith, and gave him what he would moreover of nails and
treenails and other matters; and he thanked them; and they said to
him:  "Whither now shall we lead thy timber?"

"Down to the sea-side," quoth he, "nighest to my dwelling."

So did they, and more than a score, men and women, went with him,
some in the wain, and some afoot.  Thus they came down to the sea-
shore, and laid the timber on the strand just above high-water mark;
and straightway Hallblithe fell to work shaping him a boat, for well
he knew the whole craft thereof; and the folk looked on wondering,
till the tide had ebbed the little it was wont to ebb, and left the
moist sand firm and smooth; then the women left watching Hallblithe's
work, and fell to paddling barefoot in the clear water, for there was
scarce a ripple on the sea; and the carles came and played with them
so that Hallblithe was left alone a while; for this kind of play was
new to that folk, since they seldom came down to the sea-side.
Thereafter they needs must dance together, and would have had
Hallblithe dance with them; and when he naysaid them because he was
fain of his work, in all playfulness they fell to taking the adze out
of his hand, whereat he became somewhat wroth, and they were afraid
and went and had their dance out without him.

By this time the sun was grown very hot, and they came to him again,
and lay down about him and watched his work, for they were weary.
And one of the women, still panting with the dance, spake as she
looked on the loveliness of her limbs, which one of the swains was
caressing:  "Brother," said she, "great strokes thou smitest; when
wilt thou have smitten the last of them, and come to our house
again?"

"Not for many days, fair sister," said he, without looking up.

"Alas that thou shouldst talk so," said a carle, rising up from the
warm sand; "what shall all thy toil win thee?"

Spake Hallblithe:  "Maybe a merry heart, or maybe death."

At that word they all rose up together, and stood huddled together
like sheep that have been driven to the croft-gate, and the shepherd
hath left them for a little and they know not whither to go.  Little
by little they got them to the wain and harnessed their beasts
thereto, and departed silently by the way that they had come; but in
a little time Hallblithe heard their laughter and merry speech across
the flowery meadows.  He heeded their departure little, but went on
working, and worked the sun down, and on till the stars began to
twinkle.  Then he went home to his house in the wood, and slept and
dreamed not, and began again on the morrow with a good heart.

To be short, no day passed that he wrought not his full tale of work,
and the days wore, and his ship-wright's work throve.  Often the folk
of that house, and from otherwhere round about, came down to the
strand to watch him working.  Nowise did they wilfully hinder him,
but whiles when they could get no talk from him, they would speak of
him to each other, wondering that he should so toil to sail upon the
sea; for they loved the sea but little, and it soon became clear to
them that he was looking to nought else:  though it may not be said
that they deemed he would leave the land for ever.  On the other
hand, if they hindered him not, neither did they help, saving when he
prayed them for somewhat which he needed, which they would then give
him blithely.

Of the Sea-eagle and his damsel, Hallblithe saw nought; whereat he
was well content, for he deemed it of no avail to make a second
sundering of it.

So he worked and kept his heart up, and at last all was ready; he had
made him a mast and a sail, and oars, and whatso-other gear there was
need of.  So then he thrust his skiff into the sea on an evening
whenas there were but two carles standing by; for there would often
be a score or two of folk.  These two smiled on him and bespake him
kindly, but would not help him when he bade them set shoulder to her
bows and shove.  Albeit he got the skiff into the water without much
ado, and got into her, and brought her to where a stream running from
out of his wood made a little haven for her up from the sea.  There
he tied her to a tree-hole, and busied himself that even with getting
the gear into her, and victual and water withal, as much as he deemed
he should need:  and so, being weary, he went to his house to sleep,
thinking that he should awake in the grey of the morning and thrust
out into the deep sea.  And he was the more content to abide, because
on that eve, as oftenest betid, the wind blew landward from the sea,
whereas in the morning it oftenest blew seaward from the land.  In
any case he thought to be astir so timely that he should come alone
to his keel, and depart with no leave-takings.  But, as it fell out,
he overslept himself, so that when he came out into the wood clad in
all his armour, with his sword girt to his side, and his spear over
his shoulder, he heard the voices of folk, and presently found so
many gathered about his boat that he had some ado to get aboard.

The folk had brought many gifts for him of such things as they deemed
he might need for a short voyage, as fruit and wine, and woollen
cloths to keep the cold night from him; he thanked them kindly as he
stepped over the gunwale, and some of the women kissed him:  and one
said (she it was, who had met him at the stead that morning when he
went to fetch timber):  "Thou wilt be back this even, wilt thou not,
brother?  It is yet but early, and thou shalt have time enough to
take all thy pleasure on the sea, and then come back to us to eat thy
meat in our house at nightfall."

She spake, knitting her brows in longing for his return; but he knew
that all those deemed he would come back again soon; else had they
deemed him a rebel of the King, and might, as he thought, have stayed
him.  So he changed not countenance in any wise, but said only:
"farewell, sister, for this day, and farewell to all you till I come
back."

Therewith he unmoored his boat, and sat down and took the oars, and
rowed till he was out of the little haven, and on the green sea, and
the keel rose and fell on the waves.  Then he stepped the mast and
hoisted sail, and sheeted home, for the morning wind was blowing
gently from the mountains over the meadows of the Glittering Plain,
so the sail filled, and the keel leapt forward and sped over the face
of the cold sea.  And it is to be said that whether he wotted or not,
it was the very day twelve months since he had come to that shore
along with the Sea-eagle.  So that folk stood and watched the skiff
growing less and less upon the deep till they could scarce see her.
Then they turned about and went into the wood to disport them, for
the sun was growing hot.  Nevertheless, there were some of them (and
that damsel was one), who came back to the sea-shore from time to
time all day long; and even when the sun was down they looked seaward
under the rising moon, expecting to see Hallblithe's bark come into
the shining path which she drew across the waters round about the
Glittering Land.



CHAPTER XX:  SO NOW SAILETH HALLBLITHE AWAY FROM THE GLITTERING PLAIN



But as to Hallblithe, he soon lost sight of the Glittering Plain and
the mountains thereof, and there was nought but sea all round about
him, and his heart swelled with joy as he sniffed the brine and
watched the gleaming hills and valleys of the restless deep; and he
said to himself that he was going home to his Kindred and the Roof of
his Fathers of old time.

He stood as near due north as he might; but as the day wore, the wind
headed him, and he deemed it not well to beat, lest he should make
his voyage overlong; so he ran on with the wind abeam, and his little
craft leapt merrily over the sea-hills under the freshening breeze.
The sun set and the moon and stars shone out, and he still sailed on,
and durst not sleep, save as a dog does, with one eye.  At last came
dawn, and as the light grew it was a fair day with a falling wind,
and a bright sky, but it clouded over before sunset, and the wind
freshened from the north by east, and, would he, would he not,
Hallblithe must run before it night-long, till at sunrise it fell
again, and all day was too light for him to make much way beating to
northward; nor did it freshen till after the moon was risen some
while after sunset.  And now he was so weary that he must needs
sleep; so he lashed the helm, and took a reef in the sail, and ran
before the wind, he sleeping in the stern.

But past the middle of the night, towards the dawning, he awoke with
the sound of a great shout in his ears.  So he looked over the dark
waters, and saw nought, for the night was cloudy again.  Then he
trimmed his craft, and went to sleep again, for he was over-burdened
with slumber.

When he awoke it was broad daylight; so he looked to the tiller and
got the boat's head a little up to the wind, and then gazed about him
with the sleep still in his eyes.  And as his eyes took in the
picture before him he could not refrain a cry; for lo! there arose up
great and grim right ahead the black cliffs of the Isle of Ransom.
Straightway he got to the sheet, and strove to wear the boat; but for
all that he could do she drifted toward the land, for she was gotten
into a strong current of the sea that set shoreward.  So he struck
sail, and took the oars and rowed mightily so that he might bear her
off shore; but it availed nothing, and still he drifted landward.  So
he stood up from the oars, and turned about and looked, and saw that
he was but some three furlongs from the shore, and that he was come
to the very haven-mouth whence he had set sail with the Sea-eagle a
twelvemonth ago:  and he knew that into that haven he needs must get
him, or be dashed to pieces against the high cliffs of the land:  and
he saw how the waves ran on to the cliffs, and whiles one higher than
the others smote the rock-wall and ran up it, as if it could climb
over on to the grassy lip beyond, and then fell back again, leaving a
river of brine running down the steep.

Then he said that he would take what might befall him inside the
haven.  So he hoisted sail again, and took the tiller, and steered
right for the midmost of the gate between the rocks, wondering what
should await him there.  Then it was but a few minutes ere his bark
shot into the smoothness of the haven, and presently began to lose
way; for all the wind was dead within that land-locked water.
Hallblithe looked steadily round about seeking his foe; but the haven
was empty of ship or boat; so he ran his eye along the shore to see
where he should best lay his keel and as aforesaid there was no beach
there, and the water was deep right up to the grassy lip of the land;
though the tides ran somewhat high, and at low water would a little
steep undercliff go up from the face of the sea.  But now it was near
the top of the tide, and there was scarce two feet betwixt the grass
and the dark-green sea.

Now Hallblithe steered toward an ingle of the haven; and beyond it, a
little way off, rose a reef of rocks out of the green grass, and
thereby was a flock of sheep feeding, and a big man lying down
amongst them, who seemed to be unarmed, as Hallblithe could not see
any glint of steel about him.  Hallblithe drew nigh the shore, and
the big man stirred not; nor did he any the more when the keel ran
along the shore, and Hallblithe leapt out and moored his craft to his
spear stuck deep in the earth.  And now Hallblithe deems that the man
must be either dead or asleep:  so he drew his sword and had it in
his right hand, and in his left a sharp knife, and went straight up
to the man betwixt the sheep, and found him so lying on his side that
he could not see his face; so he stirred him with his foot, and cried
out:  "Awake, O Shepherd! for dawn is long past and day is come, and
therewithal a guest for thee!"

The man turned over and slowly sat up, and, lo! who should it be but
the Puny Fox?  Hallblithe started back at the sight of him, and cried
out at him, and said:  "Have I found thee, O mine enemy?"

The Puny Fox sat up a little straighter, and rubbed his eyes and
said:  "Yea, thou hast found me sure enough.  But as to my being
thine enemy, a word or two may be said about that presently."

"What!" said Hallblithe, "dost thou deem that aught save my sword
will speak to thee?"

"I wot not," said the Puny Fox, slowly rising to his feet, "but I
suppose thou wilt not slay me unarmed, and thou seest that I have no
weapons."

"Get thee weapons, then," quoth Hallblithe, "and delay not; for the
sight of thee alive sickens me."

"Ill is that," said the Puny Fox, "but come thou with me at once,
where I shall find both the weapons and a good fighting-stead.
Hasten! time presseth, now thou art come at last."

"And my boat?" said Hallblithe.

"Wilt thou carry her in thy pouch?" said the Puny Fox; "thou wilt not
need her again, whether thou slay me, or I thee."

Hallblithe knit his brows on him in his wrath; for he deemed that
Fox's meaning was to threaten him with the vengeance of the kindred.
Howbeit, he said nought; for he deemed it ill to wrangle in words
with one whom he was presently to meet in battle; so he followed as
the Puny Fox led.  Fox brought him past the reef of rock aforesaid,
and up a narrow cleft of the cliffs overlooking the sea, whereby they
came into a little grass-grown meadow well nigh round in shape, as
smooth and level as a hall-floor, and fenced about by a wall of rock:
a place which had once been the mouth of an earth-fire, and a
cauldron of molten stone.

When they stood on the smooth grass Fox said:  "Hold thee there a
little, while I go to my weapon-chest, and then shall we see what is
to be done."

Therewith he turned aside to a cranny of the rock, and going down on
his hands and knees, fell to creeping like a worm up a hole therein,
which belike led to a cavern; for after his voice had come forth from
the earth, grunting and groaning, and cursing this thing, and that,
out he comes again feet first, and casts down an old rusty sword
without a sheath; a helm no less rusty, and battered withal, and a
round target, curled up and outworn as if it would fall to pieces of
itself.  Then he stands up and stretches himself, and smiles
pleasantly on Hallblithe and says:  "Now, mine enemy, when I have
donned helm and shield and got my sword in hand, we may begin the
play:  as to a hauberk I must needs go lack; for I could not come by
it; I think the old man must have chaffered it away:  he was ever too
money-fain."

But Hallblithe looked on him angrily and said:  "Hast thou brought me
hither to mock me?  Hast thou no better weapons wherewith to meet a
warrior of the Raven than these rusty shards, which look as if thou
hadst robbed a grave of the dead?  I will not fight thee so armed."

"Well," said the Puny Fox, "and from out of a grave come they verily:
for in that little hole lieth my father's grandsire, the great Sea-
mew of the Ravagers, the father of that Sea-eagle whom thou knowest.
But since thou thinkest scorn of these weapons of a dead warrior, in
go the old carle's treasures again!  It is as well maybe; since he
might be wrath beyond his wont if he were to wake and miss them; and
already this cold cup of the once-boiling rock is not wholly safe
because of him."

So he crept into the hole once more, and out of it presently, and
stood smiting his palms one against the other to dust them, like a
man who has been handling parchments long laid by; and Hallblithe
stood looking at him, still wrathful, but silent.

Then said the Puny Fox:  "This at least was a wise word of thine,
that thou wouldst not fight me.  For the end of fighting is slaying;
and it is stark folly to fight without slaying; and now I see that
thou desirest not to slay me:  for if thou didst, why didst thou
refuse to fall on me armed with the ghosts of weapons that I borrowed
from a ghost?  Nay, why didst thou not slay me as I crept out of
yonder hole?  Thou wouldst have had a cheap bargain of me either way.
It would be rank folly to fight me."

Said Hallblithe hoarsely:  "Why didst thou bewray me, and lie to me,
and lure me away from the quest of my beloved, and waste a whole year
of my life?"

"It is a long story," said the Puny Fox, "which I may tell thee some
day.  Meantime I may tell thee this, that I was compelled thereto by
one far mightier than I, to wit the Undying King."

At that word the smouldering wrath blazed up in Hallblithe, and he
drew his sword hastily and hewed at the Puny Fox:  but he leapt aside
nimbly and ran in on Hallblithe, and caught his sword-arm by the
wrist, and tore the weapon out of his hand, and overbore him by sheer
weight and stature, and drave him to the earth.  Then he rose up, and
let Hallblithe rise also, and took his sword and gave it into his
hand again and said:  "Crag-nester, thou art wrathful, but little.
Now thou hast thy sword again and mayst slay me if thou wilt.  Yet
not until I have spoken a word to thee:  so hearken! or else by the
Treasure of the Sea I will slay thee with my bare hands.  For I am
strong indeed in this place with my old kinsman beside me.  Wilt thou
hearken?"

"Speak," said Hallblithe, "I hearken."

Said the Puny Fox:  "True it is that I lured thee away from thy
quest, and wore away a year of thy life.  Yet true it is also that I
repent me thereof, and ask thy pardon.  What sayest thou?"

Hallblithe spake not, but the heat died out of his face and he was
become somewhat pale.  Said the Puny Fox:  "Dost thou not remember, O
Raven, how thou badest me battle last year on the sea-shore by the
side of the Rollers of the Raven? and how this was to be the prize of
battle, that the vanquished should serve the vanquisher year-long,
and do all his will?  And now this prize and more thou hast won
without battle; for I swear by the Treasure of the Sea, and by the
bones of the great Sea-mew yonder, that I will serve thee not year-
long but life-long, and that I will help thee in thy quest for thy
beloved.  What sayest thou?"

Hallblithe stood speechless a moment, looking past the Puny Fox,
rather than at him.  Then the sword tumbled out of his hand on to the
grass, and great tears rolled down his cheeks and fell on to his
raiment, and he reached out his hand to the Puny Fox and said:  "O
friend, wilt thou not bring me to her? for the days wear, and the
trees are growing old round about the Acres of the Raven."

Then the Puny Fox took his hand; and laughed merrily in his face, and
said:  "Great is thine heart, O Carrion-biter!  But now that thou art
my friend I will tell thee that I have a deeming of the whereabouts
of thy beloved.  Or where deemest thou was the garden wherein thou
sawest her standing on the page of the book in that dream of the
night?  So it is, O Raven-son, that it is not for nothing that my
grandsire's father lieth in yonder hole of the rocks; for of late he
hath made me wise in mighty lore.  Thanks have thou, O kinsman!"  And
he turned him toward the rock wherein was the grave.

But Hallblithe said:  "What is to do now?  Am I not in a land of
foemen?"

"Yea, forsooth," said the Puny Fox, "and even if thou knewest where
thy love is, thou shouldst hardly escape from this isle unslain, save
for me."

Said Hallblithe:  "Is there not my bark, that I might depart at once?
for I deem not that the Hostage is on the Isle of Ransom."

The Puny Fox laughed boisterously and said:  "Nay, she is not.  But
as to thy boat, there is so strong a set of the flood-tide toward
this end of the isle, that with the wind blowing as now, from the
north-north-east, thou mayst not get off the shore for four hours at
least, and I misdoubt me that within that time we shall have tidings
of a ship of ours coming into the haven.  Thy bark they shall take,
and thee also if thou art therein; and then soon were the story told,
for they know thee for a rebel of the Undying King.  Hearken!  Dost
thou not hear the horn's voice?  Come up hither and we shall see what
is towards."

So saying, he led hastily up a kind of stair in the rock-wall, until
they reached a cranny, whence through a hole in the cliff, they could
see all over the haven.  And lo! as they looked, in the very gate and
entry of it came a great ship heaving up her bows on the last swell
of the outer sea (where the wind had risen somewhat), and rolling
into the smooth, land-locked water.  Black was her sail, and the
image of the Sea-eagle enwrought thereon spread wide over it; and the
banner of the Flaming Sword streamed out from the stern.  Many men
all-weaponed were on the decks, and the minstrels high up on the poop
were blowing a merry song of return on their battle-horns.

"Lo, you," said the Puny Fox, "thy luck or mine hath served thee this
time, in that the Flaming Sword did not overhaul thee ere thou madest
the haven.  We are well here at least."

Said Hallblithe:  "But may not some of them come up hither
perchance?"

"Nay, nay," said the Puny Fox; "they fear the old man in the cleft
yonder; for he is not over guest-fain.  This mead is mine own, as for
other living men; it is my unroofed house, and I have here a house
with a roof also, which I will show thee presently.  For now since
the Flaming Sword hath come, there is no need for haste; nay, we
cannot depart till they have gone up-country.  So I will show thee
presently what we shall do to-night."

So there they sat and watched those men bring their ship to the shore
and moor her hard by Hallblithe's boat.  They cried out when they saw
her, and when they were aland they gathered about her to note her
build, and the fashion of the spear whereto she was tied.  Then in a
while the more part of them, some fourscore in number, departed up
the valley toward the great house and left none but a half dozen
ship-warders behind.

"Seest thou, friend of the Ravens," said the Fox, "hadst thou been
there, they might have done with thee what they would.  Did I not
well to bring thee into my unroofed house?"

"Yea, verily," said Hallblithe; "but will not some of the ship-wards,
or some of the others returning, come up hither and find us?  I shall
yet lay my bones in this evil island."

The Puny Fox laughed, and said:  "It is not so bad as thy sour looks
would have it; anyhow it is good enough for a grave, and at this
present I may call it a casket of precious things."

"What meanest thou?" said Hallblithe eagerly.

"Nay, nay," said the other, "nought but what thou knowest.  Art thou
not therein, and I myself? without reckoning the old carle in the
hole yonder.  But I promise thee thou shalt not die here this time,
unless thou wilt.  And as to folk coming up hither, I tell thee again
they durst not; because they fear my great-grandsire over much.  Not
that they are far wrong therein; for now he is dead, the worst of him
seemeth to come out of him, and he is not easily dealt with, save by
one who hath some share of his wisdom.  Thou thyself couldst see by
my kinsman, the Sea-eagle, how much of ill blood and churlish malice
there may be in our kindred when they wax old, and loneliness and
dreariness taketh hold of them.  For I must tell thee that I have oft
heard my father say that his father the Sea-eagle was in his youth
and his prime blithe and buxom, a great lover of women, and a very
friendly fellow.  But ever, as I say, as the men of our kind wax in
years, they worsen; and thereby mayst thou deem how bad the old man
in yonder must be, since he hath lain so long in the grave.  But now
we will go to that house of mine on the other side of the mead, over
against my kinsman's."

Therewith he led Hallblithe down from the rock while Hallblithe said
to him:  "What! art thou also dead that thou hast a grave here?"

"Nay, nay," said Fox, smiling, "am I so evil-conditioned then?  I am
no older than thou art."

"But tell me," said Hallblithe, "wilt thou also wax evil as thou
growest old?"

"Maybe not," said Fox, looking hard at him, "for in my mind it is
that I may be taken into another house, and another kindred, and
amongst them I shall be healed of much that might turn to ill."

Therewith were they come across the little meadow to a place where
was a cave in the rock closed with a door, and a wicket window
therein.  Fox led Hallblithe into it, and within it was no ill
dwelling; for it was dry and clean, and there were stools therein and
a table, and shelves and lockers in the wall.  When they had sat them
down Fox said:  "Here mightest thou dwell safely as long as thou
wouldst, if thou wouldst risk dealings with the old carle.  But, as I
wot well that thou art in haste to be gone and get home to thy
kindred, I must bring thee at dusk to-day close up to our feast-hall,
so that thou mayst be at hand to do what hath to be done to-night, so
that we may get us gone to-morrow.  Also thou must do off thy Raven
gear lest we meet any in the twilight as we go up to the house; and
here have I to hand home-spun raiment such as our war-taken thralls
wear, which shall serve thy turn well enough; but this thou needst
not do on till the time is at hand for our departure; and then I will
bring thee away, and bestow thee in a bower hard by the hall; and
when thou art within, I may so look to it that none shall go in
there, or if they do, they shall see nought in thee save a carle
known to them by name.  My kinsman hath learned me to do harder
things than this.  But now it is time to eat and drink."

Therewith he drew victual from out a locker and they fell to.  But
when they had eaten, Fox taught Hallblithe what he should do in the
hall that night, as shall be told hereafter.  And then, with much
talk about many things, they wore away the day in that ancient cup of
the seething rock, and a little before dusk set out for the hall,
bearing with them Hallblithe's gear bundled up together, as though it
had been wares from over sea.  So they came to the house before the
tables were set, and the Puny Fox bestowed Hallblithe in a bower
which gave into the buttery, so that it was easy to go straight into
the mid-most of the hall.  There was Hallblithe clad and armed in his
Raven gear; but Fox gave him a vizard to go over his face, so that
none might know him when he entered therein.



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



Now it is to be told that the chieftains came into the hall that
night and sat down at the board on the dais, even as Hallblithe had
seen them do aforetime.  And the chieftain of all, who was called the
Erne of the Sea-eagles, rose up according to custom and said:
"Hearken, folk! this is a night of the champions, whereon we may not
eat till the pale blades have clashed together, and one hath
vanquished and another been overcome.  Now let them stand forth and
give out the prize of victory which the vanquished shall pay to the
vanquisher.  And let it be known, that, whosoever may be the champion
that winneth the battle, whether he be a kinsman, or an alien, or a
foeman declared; yea, though he have left the head of my brother at
the hall-door, he shall pass this night with us safe from sword, safe
from axe, safe from hand:  he shall eat as we eat, drink as we drink,
sleep as we sleep, and depart safe from any hand or weapon, and shall
sail the sea at his pleasure in his own keel or in ours, as to him
and us may be meet.  Blow up horns for the champions!"

So the horns blew a cheerful strain, and when they were done, there
came into the hall a tall man clad in black, and with black armour
and weapons saving the white blade of his sword.  He had a vizard
over his face, but his hair came down from under his helm like the
tail of a red horse.

So he stood amidst the floor and cried out:  "I am the champion of
the Ravagers.  But I swear by the Treasure of the Sea that I will
cross no blade to-night save with an alien, a foeman of the kindred.
Hearest thou, O chieftain, O Erne of the Sea-eagles?"

"Hear it I do," said the chieftain, "and I deem that thy meaning is
that we should go supperless to bed; and this cometh of thy
perversity:  for we know thee despite thy vizard.  Belike thou
deemest that thou shalt not be met this even, and that there is no
free alien in the island to draw sword against thee.  But beware!
For when we came aland this morning we found a skiff of the aliens
tied to a great spear stuck in the bank of the haven; so that there
will be one foeman at least abroad in the island.  But we said if we
should come on the man, we would set his head on the gable of the
hall with the mouth open toward the North for a token of reproach to
the dwellers in the land over sea.  But now give out the prize of
victory, and I swear by the Treasure of the Sea that we will abide by
thy word."

Said the champion:  "These are the terms and conditions of the
battle; that whichso of us is vanquished, he shall either die, or
serve the vanquisher for twelve moons, to fare with him at his will,
to go his errands, and do according to his commandment in all wise.
Hearest thou, chieftain?"

"Yea," said he, "and by the Undying King, both thou and we shall
abide by this bargain.  So look to it that thou smite great strokes,
lest our hall lack a gable-knop.  Horns, blow up for the alien
champion!"

So again the horns were winded; and ere their voice had died, in from
the buttery screens came a glittering image of war, and there stood
the alien champion over against the warrior of the sea; and he too
had a vizard over his face.

Now when the folk saw him, and how slim and light and small he looked
beside their champion, and they beheld the Raven painted on his white
shield, they hooted and laughed for scorn of him and his littleness.
But he tossed his sword up lightly and caught it by the hilts as it
fell, and drew nigher to the champion of the sea and stood facing him
within reach of his sword.  Then the chieftain on the high-seat put
his two hands to his mouth and roared out:  "Fall on, ye champions,
fall on!"

But the folk in the hall were so eager that they stood on the benches
and the boards, and craned over each other's shoulders, so that they
might lose no whit of the hand-play.  Now flashed the blades in the
candle-lit hall, and the red-haired champion hove up his sword and
smote two great strokes to right and to left; but the alien gave way
before him, and the folk cried out at him in scorn and in joy of
their champion, who fell to raining down great strokes like the hail
amidst the lightning.  But so deft was the alien, that he stood
amidst it unhurt, and laid many strokes on his foeman, and did all so
lightly and easily, that it seemed as if he were dancing rather than
fighting; and the folk held their peace and began to doubt if their
huge champion would prevail.  Now the red-haired fetched a mighty
stroke at the alien, who leapt aside lightly and gat his sword in his
left hand and dealt a great stroke on the other's head, and the red-
haired staggered, for he had over-reached himself; and again the
alien smote him a left-handed stroke so that he fell full length on
the floor with a mighty clatter, and the sword flew out of his hand:
and the folk were dumb-founded.

Then the alien threw himself on the sea-champion, and knelt upon him,
and shortened his sword as if to slay him with a thrust.  But thereon
the man overthrown cried out:  "Hold thine hand, for I am vanquished!
Now give me peace according to the bargain struck between us, that I
shall serve thee year-long, and follow thee wheresoever thou goest."

Therewith the alien champion arose and stood off from him, and the
man of the sea gat to his feet, and did off his helm, so that all men
could see that he was the Puny Fox.

Then the victorious champion unhelmed himself, and lo, it was
Hallblithe!  And a shout arose in the hall, part of wonder, part of
wrath.

Then cried out the Puny Fox:  "I call on all men here to bear witness
that by reason of this battle, Hallblithe of the Ravens is free to
come and go as he will in the Isle of Ransom, and to take help of any
man that will help him, and to depart from the isle when he will and
how he will, taking me with him if so he will."

Said the chieftain:  "Yea, this is right and due, and so shall it be.
But now, since no freeman, who is not a foe of the passing hour, may
abide in our hall without eating of our meat, come up here,
Hallblithe, and sit by me, and eat and drink of the best we have,
since the Norns would not give us thine head for a gable-knop.  But
what wilt thou do with thy thrall the Puny Fox; and whereto in the
hall wilt thou have him shown?  Or wilt thou that he sit fasting in
the darkness to-night, laid in gyves and fetters?  Or shall he have
the cheer of whipping and stripes, as befitteth a thrall to whom the
master oweth a grudge?  What is thy will with him?"

Said Hallblithe:  "My will is that thou give him a seat next to me,
whether that be high or low, or the bench of thy prison-house.  That
he eat of my dish, and drink of my cup, whatsoever the meat and drink
may be.  For to-morrow I mean that we twain shall go under the earth-
collar together, and that our blood shall run together and that we
shall be brothers in arms henceforward."  Then Hallblithe did on his
helm again and drew his sword, and looked aside to the Puny Fox to
bid him do the like, and he did so, and Hallblithe said:  "Chieftain,
thou hast bidden me to table, and I thank thee; but I will not set my
teeth in meat, out of our own house and land, which hath not been
truly given to me by one who wotteth of me, unless I have conquered
it as a prey of battle; neither will I cast a lie into the loving-cup
which shall pass from thy lips to mine:  therefore I will tell thee,
that though I laid a stroke or two on the Puny Fox, and those no
light ones, yet was this battle nought true and real, but a mere
beguiling, even as that which I saw foughten in this hall aforetime,
when meseemeth the slain men rose up in time to drink the good-night
cup.  Therefore, O men of the Ravagers, and thou, O Puny Fox, there
is nought to bind your hands and refrain your hearts, and ye may slay
me if ye will without murder or dishonour, and may make the head of
Hallblithe a knop for your feast-hall.  Yet shall one or two fall to
earth before I fall."

Therewith he shook his sword aloft, and a great roar arose, and
weapons came down from the wall, and the candles shone on naked
steel.  But the Puny Fox came and stood by Hallblithe, and spake in
his ear amidst the uproar:  "Well now, brother-in-arms, I have been
trying to learn thee the lore of lies, and surely thou art the worst
scholar who was ever smitten by master.  And the outcome of it is
that I, who have lied so long and well, must now pay for all, and die
for a barren truth."

Said Hallblithe:  "Let all be as it will!  I love thee, lies and all;
but as for me I cannot handle them.  Lo you! great and grim shall be
the slaying, and we shall not fall unavenged."

Said the Puny Fox:  "Hearken! for still they hang back.  Belike it is
I that have drawn this death on thee and me.  My last lie was a
fool's lie and we die for it:  for what wouldst thou have done hadst
thou wotted that thy beloved, the Hostage of the Rose--"  He broke
off perforce; for Hallblithe was looking to right and left and
handling his sword, and heard not that last word of his; and from
both sides of the hall the throng was drawing round about those
twain, weapon in hand.  Then Hallblithe set his eyes on a big man in
front who was heaving up a heavy short-sword and thought that he
would at least slay this one.  But or ever he might smite, the great
horn blared out over the tumult, and men forbore a while and fell
somewhat silent.

Then came down to them the voice of the chieftain, a loud voice, but
clear and with mirth mingled with anger in it, and he said:  "What do
these fools of the Ravagers cumbering the floor of the feast-hall,
and shaking weapons when there is no foeman anigh?  Are they
dreaming-drunk before the wine is poured?  Why do they not sit down
in their places, and abide the bringing in of the meat?  And ye
women, where are ye, why do ye delay our meat, when ye may well wot
that our hearts are drooping for hunger; and all hath been duly done,
the battle of the champions fought and won, and the prize of war
given forth and taken?  How long, O folk, shall your chieftains sit
fasting?"

Then there arose great laughter in the hall, and men withdrew them
from those twain and went and sat them down in their places.

Then the chieftain said:  "Come up hither, I say, O Hallblithe, and
bring thy war-thrall with thee if thou wilt.  But delay not, unless
it be so that thou art neither hungry nor thirsty; and good sooth
thou shouldst be both; for men say that the ravens are hard to
satisfy.  Come then and make good cheer with us!"

So Hallblithe thrust his sword into the sheath, and the Puny Fox did
the like, and they went both together up the hall to the high-seat.
And Hallblithe sat down on the chieftain's right hand, and the Puny
Fox next to him; and the chieftain, the Erne, said:  "O Hallblithe,
dost thou need thine armour at table; or dost thou find it handy to
take thy meat clad in thy byrny and girt with a sword?"

Then laughed Hallblithe and said:  "Nay, meseemeth to-night I shall
need war-gear no more."  And he stood up and did off all his armour
and gave it, sword and all, into the hands of a woman, who bore it
off, he knew not whither.  And the Erne looked on him and said:
"Well is that! and now I see that thou art a fair young man, and it
is no marvel though maidens desire thee."

As he spake came in the damsels with the victual and the cheer was
exceeding good, and Hallblithe grew light-hearted.

But when the healths had been drunk as aforetime, and men had drunk a
cup or two thereafter, there rose a warrior from one of the endlong
benches, a big young man, black-haired and black-bearded, ruddy of
visage, and he said in a voice that was rough and fat:  "O Erne, and
ye other chieftains, we have been talking here at our table
concerning this guest of thine who hath beguiled us, and we are not
wholly at one with thee as to thy dealings with him.  True it is, now
that the man hath our meat in his belly, that he must depart from
amongst us with a whole skin, unless of his own will he stand up to
fight some man of us here.  Yet some of us think that he is not so
much our friend that we should help him to a keel whereon to fare
home to those that hate us:  and we say that it would not be unlawful
to let the man abide in the isle, and proclaim him a wolf's-head
within a half-moon of today.  Or what sayest thou?"

Said the Erne:  "Wait for my word a while, and hearken to another!
Is the Grey-goose of the Ravagers in the hall?  Let him give out his
word on this matter."

Then arose a white-headed carle from a table nigh to the dais, whose
black raiment was well adorned with gold.  Despite his years his face
was fair and little wrinkled; a man with a straight nose and a well-
fashioned mouth, and with eyes still bright and grey.  He spake:  "O
folk, I find that the Erne hath done well in cherishing this guest.
For first, if he hath beguiled us, he did it not save by the
furtherance and sleight of our own kinsman; therefore if any one is
to die for beguiling us, let it be the Puny Fox.  Secondly, we may
well wot that heavy need hath driven the man to this beguilement; and
I say that it was no unmanly deed for him to enter our hall and
beguile us with his sleight; and that he hath played out the play
right well and cunningly with the wisdom of a warrior.  Thirdly, the
manliness of him is well proven, in that having overcome us in
sleight, he hath spoken out the sooth concerning our beguilement and
hath made himself our foeman and captive, when he might have sat down
by us as our guest, freely and in all honour.  And this he did, not
as contemning the Puny Fox and his lies and crafty wiles (for he hath
told us that he loveth him); but so that he might show himself a man
in that which trieth manhood.  Moreover, ye shall not forget that he
is the rebel of the Undying King, who is our lord and master;
therefore in cherishing him we show ourselves great-hearted, in that
we fear not the wrath of our master.  Therefore I naysay the word of
the War-brand that we should make this man a wolf's-head; for in so
doing we shall show ourselves lesser-hearted than he is, and of no
account beside of him; and his head on our hall-gable should be to us
a nithing-stake, and a tree of reproach.  So I bid thee, O Erne, to
make much of this man; and thou shalt do well to give him worthy
gifts, such as warriors may take, so that he may show them at home in
the House of the Raven, that it may be the beginning of peace betwixt
us and his noble kindred.  This is my say, and later on I shall wax
no wiser."

Therewith he sat down, and there arose a murmur and stir in the hall;
but the more part said that the Grey-goose had spoken well, and that
it was good to be at peace with such manly fellows as the new guest
was.

But the Erne said:  "One word will I lay hereto, to wit, that he who
desireth mine enmity let him do scathe to Hallblithe of the Ravens
and hinder him."

Then he bade fill round the cups, and called a health to Hallblithe,
and all men drank to him, and there was much joyance and merriment.

But when the night was well worn, the Erne turned to Hallblithe and
said:  "That was a good word of the Grey-goose which he spake
concerning the giving of gifts:  Raven-son, wilt thou take a gift of
me and be my friend?"

"Thy friend will I be," said Hallblithe, "but no gift will I take of
thee or any other till I have the gift of gifts, and that is my
troth-plight maiden.  I will not be glad till I can be glad with
her."

Then laughed the Erne, and the Puny Fox grinned all across his wide
face, and Hallblithe looked from one to the other of them and
wondered at their mirth, and when they saw his wondering eyes, they
did but laugh the more; and the Erne said:  "Nevertheless, thou shalt
see the gift which I would give thee; and then mayst thou take it or
leave it as thou wilt.  Ho ye! bring in the throne of the Eastland
with them that minister to it!"

Certain men left the hall as he spake, and came back bearing with
them a throne fashioned most goodly of ivory, parcel-gilt and
begemmed, and adorned with marvellous craftsmanship:  and they set it
down amidst of the hall-floor and went aback to their places, while
the Erne sat and smiled kindly on the folk and on Hallblithe.  Then
arose the sound of fiddles and the lesser harp, and the doors of the
screen were opened, and there flowed into the hall a company of fair
damsels not less than a score, each one with a rose on her bosom, and
they came and stood in order behind the throne of the Eastlands, and
they strewed roses on the ground before them:  and when they were
duly ranged they fell to singing:


Now waneth spring,
While all birds sing,
And the south wind blows
The earliest rose
To and fro
By the doors we know,
And the scented gale
Fills every dale.
Slow now are brooks running because of the weed,
And the thrush hath no cunning to hide her at need,
So swift as she flieth from hedge-row to tree
As one that toil trieth, and deedful must be.

And O! that at last,
All sorrows past,
This night I lay
'Neath the oak-beams grey!
O, to wake from sleep,
To see dawn creep
Through the fruitful grove
Of the house that I love!
O! my feet to be treading the threshold once more,
O'er which once went the leading of swords to the war!
O! my feet in the garden's edge under the sun,
Where the seeding grass hardens for haysel begun!

Lo, lo! the wind blows
To the heart of the Rose,
And the ship lies tied
To the haven side!
But O for the keel
The sails to feel!
And the alien ness
Growing less and less;
As down the wind driveth and thrusts through the sea
The sail-burg that striveth to turn and go free,
But the lads at the tiller they hold her in hand,
And the wind our well-willer drives fierce to the land.

We shall wend it yet,
The highway wet;
For what is this
That our bosoms kiss?
What lieth sweet
Before our feet?
What token hath come
To lead us home?
'Tis the Rose of the garden walled round from the croft
Where the grey roof its warden steep riseth aloft,
'Tis the Rose 'neath the oaken-beamed hall, where they bide,
The pledges unbroken, the hand of the bride.


Hallblithe heard the song, and half thought it promised him somewhat;
but then he had been so misled and mocked at, that he scarce knew how
to rejoice at it.

Now the Erne spake:  "Wilt thou not take the chair and these dainty
song-birds that stand about it?  Much wealth might come into thine
hall if thou wert to carry them over sea to rich men who have no
kindred, nor affinity wherein to wed, but who love women as well as
other men."

Said Hallblithe:  "I have wealth enow were I once home again.  As to
these maidens, I know by the fashion of them that they are no women
of the Rose, as by their song they should be.  Yet will I take any of
these maidens that have will to go with me and be made sisters of my
sisters, and wed with the warriors of the Rose; or if they are of a
kindred, and long to sit each in the house of her folk, then will we
send them home over the sea with warriors to guard them from all
trouble.  For this gift I thank thee.  As to thy throne, I bid thee
keep it till a keel cometh thy way from our land, bringing fair gifts
for thee and thine.  For we are not so unwealthy."

Those that sat nearby heard his words and praised them; but the Erne
said:  "All this is free to thee, and thou mayst do what thou wilt
with the gifts given to thee.  Yet shalt thou have the throne; and I
have thought of a way to make thee take it.  Or what sayst thou, Puny
Fox?"

Said the Puny Fox:  "Yea if thou wilt, thou mayst, but I thought it
not of thee that thou wouldst.  Now is all well."

Again Hallblithe looked from one to the other and wondered what they
meant.  But the Erne cried out:  "Bring in now the sitter, who shall
fill the empty throne!"

Then again the screen-doors opened, and there came in two weaponed
men, leading between them a woman clad in gold and garlanded with
roses.  So fair was the fashion of her face and all her body, that
her coming seemed to make a change in the hall, as though the sun had
shone into it suddenly.  She trod the hall-floor with firm feet, and
sat down on the ivory chair.  But even before she was seated therein
Hallblithe knew that the Hostage was under that roof and coming
toward him.  And the heart rose in his breast and fluttered therein,
so sore he yearned toward the Daughter of the Rose, and his very
speech-friend.  Then he heard the Erne saying, "How now, Raven-son,
wilt thou have the throne and the sitter therein, or wilt thou
gainsay me once more?"

Thereafter he himself spake, and the sound of his voice was strange
to him and as if he knew it not:  "Chieftain, I will not gainsay
thee, but will take thy gift, and thy friendship therewith,
whatsoever hath betided.  Yet would I say a word or two unto the
woman that sitteth yonder.  For I have been straying amongst wiles
and images, and mayhappen I shall yet find this to be but a dream of
the night, or a beguilement of the day."  Therewith he arose from the
table, and walked slowly down the hall; but it was a near thing that
he did not fall a-weeping before all those aliens, so full his heart
was.

He came and stood before the Hostage, and their eyes were upon each
other, and for a little while they had no words.  Then Hallblithe
began, wondering at his voice as he spake:  "Art thou a woman and my
speech-friend?  For many images have mocked me, and I have been
encompassed with lies, and led astray by behests that have not been
fulfilled.  And the world hath become strange to me, and empty of
friends."

Then she said:  "Art thou verily Hallblithe?  For I also have been
encompassed by lies, and beset by images of things unhelpful."

"Yea," said he, "I am Hallblithe of the Ravens, wearied with desire
for my troth-plight maiden."

Then came the rosy colour into the fairness of her face, as the
rising sun lighteth the garden of flowers in the June morning; and
she said:  "If thou art Hallblithe, tell me what befell to the
finger-gold-ring that my mother gave me when we were both but
little."

Then his face grew happy, and he smiled, and he said:  "I put it for
thee one autumntide in the snake's hole in the bank above the river,
amidst the roots of the old thorn-tree, that the snake might brood
it, and make the gold grow greater; but when winter was over and we
came to look for it, lo! there was neither ring nor snake, nor thorn-
tree:  for the flood had washed it all away."

Thereat she smiled most sweetly, and whereas she had been looking on
him hitherto with strained and anxious eyes, she now beheld him
simply and friendly; and she said:  "O Hallblithe, I am a woman
indeed, and thy speech-friend.  This is the flesh that desireth thee,
and the life that is thine, and the heart which thou rejoicest.  But
now tell me, who are these huge images around us, amongst whom I have
sat thus, once in every moon this year past, and afterwards I was
taken back to the women's bower?  Are they men or mountain-giants?
Will they slay us, or shut us up from the light and air?  Or hast
thou made peace with them?  Wilt thou then dwell with me here, or
shall we go back again to Cleveland by the Sea?  And when, oh when,
shall we depart?"

He smiled and said:  "Quick come thy questions, beloved.  These are
the folks of the Ravagers and the Sea-eagles:  they be men, though
fierce and wild they be.  Our foes they have been, and have sundered
us; but now are they our friends, and have brought us together.  And
to-morrow, O friend, shall we depart across the waters to Cleveland
by the Sea."

She leaned forward, and was about to speak softly to him, but
suddenly started back, and said:  "There is a big, red-haired man, as
big as any here, behind thy shoulder.  Is he also a friend?  What
would he with us?"

So Hallblithe turned about, and beheld the Puny Fox beside him, who
took up the word and spoke, smiling as a man in great glee:  "O
maiden of the Rose, I am Hallblithe's thrall, and his scholar, to
unlearn the craft of lying, whereby I have done amiss towards both
him and thee.  Whereof I will tell thee all the tale soon.  But now I
will say that it is true that we depart to-morrow for Cleveland by
the Sea, thou and he, and I in company.  Now I would ask thee,
Hallblithe, if thou wouldst have me bestow this gift of thine in
safe-keeping to-night, since there is an end of her sitting in the
hall like a graven image:  and to-morrow the way will be long and
wearisome, What sayest thou?"

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

"Yea, thou shalt trust him," said Hallblithe, "for he is trusty.  And
even were he not, it is meet for us of the Raven and the Rose to do
as our worth biddeth us, and not to fear this folk.  And it behoveth
us to do after their customs since we are in their house."

"That is sooth," she said; "big man, lead me out of the hall to my
place.  Farewell, Hallblithe, for a little while, and then shall
there be no more sundering for us."

Therewith she departed with the Puny Fox, and Hallblithe went back to
the high-seat and sat down by the Erne, who laughed on him and said:
"Thou hast taken my gift, and that is well:  yet shall I tell thee
that I would not have given it to thee if I could have kept it for
myself in such plight as thou wilt have it.  But all I could do, and
the Puny Fox to help withal, availed me nought.  So good luck go with
thine hands.  Now will we to bed, and to-morrow I will lead thee out
on thy way; for to say sooth, there be some here who are not well
pleased with either thee or me; and thou knowest that words are
wasted on wilful men, but that deeds may avail somewhat."

Therewith he cried out for the cup of good-night, and when it was
drunken, Hallblithe was shown to a fair shut-bed; even that wherein
he had lain aforetime; and there he went to sleep in joy, and in good
liking with all men.



CHAPTER XXII:  THEY GO FROM THE ISLE OF RANSOM AND COME TO CLEVELAND
BY THE SEA



In the morning early Hallblithe arose from his bed, and when he came
into the mid-hall, there was the Puny Fox and the Hostage with him;
Hallblithe kissed her and embraced her, and she him; yet not like
lovers long sundered, but as a man and maid betrothed are wont to do,
for there were folk coming and going about the hall.  Then spake the
Puny Fox:  "The Erne is abiding us out in the meadow yonder; for now
nought will serve him but he must needs go under the earth-collar
with us.  How sayest thou, is he enough thy friend?"

Said Hallblithe, smiling on the Hostage:  "What hast thou to say to
it, beloved?"

"Nought at all," she said, "if thou art friend to any of these men.
I may deem that I have somewhat against the chieftain, whereof belike
this big man may tell thee hereafter; but even so much meseemeth I
have against this man himself, who is now become thy friend and
scholar; for he also strove for my beguilement, and that not for
himself, but for another."

"True it is," said the Fox, "that I did it for another; even as
yesterday I took thy mate Hallblithe out of the trap whereinto he had
strayed, and compassed his deliverance by means of the unfaithful
battle; and even as I would have stolen thee for him, O Rose-maiden,
if need had been; yea, even if I must have smitten into ruin the
roof-tree of the Ravagers.  And how could I tell that the Erne would
give thee up unstolen?  Yea, thou sayeth sooth, O noble and spotless
maiden; all my deeds, both good and ill, have I done for others; and
so I deem it shall be while my life lasteth."

Then Hallblithe laughed and said:  "Art thou nettled, fellow-in-arms,
at the word of a woman who knoweth thee not?  She shall yet be thy
friend, O Fox.  But tell me, beloved, I deemed that thou hadst not
seen Fox before; how then can he have helped the Erne against thee?"

"Yet she sayeth sooth," said Fox, "this was of my sleight:  for when
I had to come before her, I changed my skin, as I well know how;
there are others in this land who can do so much as that.  But what
sayest thou concerning the brotherhood with the Erne?"

"Let it be so," said Hallblithe, "he is manly and true, though
masterful, and is meet for this land of his.  I shall not fall out
with him; for seldom meseemeth shall I see the Isle of Ransom."

"And I never again," said the Puny Fox.

"Dost thou loathe it, then," said the Hostage, "because of the evil
thou hast done therein?"

"Nay," said he, "what is the evil, when henceforth I shall do but
good?  Nay, I love the land.  Belike thou deemest it but dreary with
its black rocks and black sand, and treeless wind-swept dales; but I
know it in summer and winter, and sun and shade, in storm and calm.
And I know where the fathers dwelt and the sons of their sons' sons
have long lain in the earth.  I have sailed its windiest firths, and
climbed its steepest crags; and ye may well wot that it hath a
friendly face to me; and the land-wights of the mountains will be
sorry for my departure."

So he spake, and Hallblithe would have answered him, but by now were
they come to a grassy hollow amidst the dale, where the Erne had
already made the earth-yoke ready.  To wit, he had loosened a strip
of turf all save the two ends, and had propped it up with two ancient
dwarf-wrought spears, so that amidmost there was a lintel to go
under.

So when he saw those others coming, he gave them the sele of the day,
and said to Hallblithe:  "What is it to be? shall I be less than thy
brother-in-arms henceforward?"

Said Hallblithe:  "Not a whit less.  It is good to have brothers in
other lands than one."

So they made no delay, but clad in all their war-gear, they went
under the earth-yoke one after the other; thereafter they stood
together, and each let blood in his arm, so that the blood of all
three mingled together fell down on the grass of the ancient earth;
and they swore friendship and brotherhood each to each.

But when all was done the Erne spake:  "Brother Hallblithe, as I lay
awake in bed this morning I deemed that I would take ship with thee
to Cleveland by the Sea, that I might dwell there a while.  But when
I came out of the hall, and saw the dale lying green betwixt hill-
side and hill-side, and the glittering river running down amidmost,
and the sheep and kine and horses feeding up and down on either side
the water:  and I looked up at the fells and saw how deep blue they
stood up against the snowy peaks, and I thought of all our deeds on
the deep sea, and the merry nights, in yonder abode of men:  then I
thought that I would not leave the kindred, were it but for a while,
unless war and lifting called me.  So now I will ride with thee to
the ship, and then farewell to thee."

"It is good," said Hallblithe, "though not as good as it might be.
Glad had we been with thee in the hall of the Ravens."

As he spoke drew anigh the carles leading the horses, and with them
came six of those damsels whom the Erne had given to Hallblithe the
night before; two of whom asked to be brought to their kindred over
sea; but the other four were fain to go with Hallblithe and the
Hostage, and become their sisters at Cleveland by the Sea.

So then they got to horse and rode down the dale toward the haven,
and the carles rode with them, so that of weaponed men they were a
score in company.  But when they were half-way to the haven they saw
where hard by three knolls on the way-side were men standing with
their weapons and war-gear glittering in the sun.  So the Erne
laughed and said:  "Shall we have a word with War-brand then?"

But they rode steadily on their way, and when they came up to the
knolls they saw that it was War-brand indeed with a score of men at
his back; but they stirred not when they saw Erne's company that it
was great.  Then Erne laughed aloud and cried out in a big voice,
"What, lads! ye ride early this morning; are there foemen abroad in
the Isle?"

They shrank back before him, but a carle of those who was hindermost
cried out:  "Art thou coming back to us, Erne, or have thy new
friends bought thee to lead them in battle?"

"Fear it nought," quoth Erne, "I shall be back before the shepherd's
noon."

So they went their ways and came to the haven, and there lay the
Flaming Sword, and beside her a trim bark, not right great, all ready
for sea:  and Hallblithe's skiff was made fast to her for an after-
boat.

Then the Hostage and Hallblithe and the six damsels went aboard her,
and when the Erne had bidden them farewell, they cast off the hawsers
and thrust her out through the haven-mouth; but ere they had got
midmost of the haven, they saw the Erne, that he had turned about,
and was riding up the dale with his house-carles, and each man's
weapon was shining in his hand:  and they wondered if he were riding
to battle with War-brand; and Fox said:  "Meseemeth our brother-in-
arms hath in his mind to give those waylayers an evil minute, and
verily he is the man to do the same."

So they gat them out of the haven, and the ebb-tide drave out seaward
strongly, and the wind was fair for Cleveland by the Sea; and they
ran speedily past the black cliffs of the Isle of Ransom, and soon
were they hull down behind them.  But on the afternoon of the next
day they hove up the land of the kindreds, and by sunset they beached
their ship on the sand by the Rollers of the Raven, and went ashore
without more ado.  And the strand was empty of all men, even as on
the day when Hallblithe first met the Puny Fox.  So then in the cool
of the evening they went up toward the House of the Raven.  Those
damsels went together hand in hand two by two, and Hallblithe held
the Hostage by the hand; but the Puny Fox went along beside them,
gleeful and of many words; telling them tales of his wiles and his
craft, and his skin-changing.

"But now," quoth he, "I have left all that behind me in the Isle of
Ransom, and have but one shape, and I would for your behoof that it
were a goodlier one:  and but one wisdom have I, even that which
dwelleth in mine own head-bone.  Yet it may be that this may avail
you one time or other.  But lo you! though I am thy thrall, have I
not the look of a thrall-huckster from over sea leading up my wares
to the cheaping-stead?"  They laughed at his words and were merry,
and much love there was amongst them as they went up to the House of
the Raven.

But when they came thither they went into the garth, and there was no
man therein, for it was now dusk, and the windows of the long hall
were yellow with candle-light.  Then said Fox:  "Abide ye here a
little; for I would go into the hall alone and see the conditions of
thy people, O Hallblithe."

"Go thou, then," said Hallblithe, "but be not rash.  I counsel thee;
for our folk are not over-patient when they deem they have a foe
before them."

The Puny Fox laughed, and said:  "So it is then the world over, that
happy men are wilful and masterful."

Then he drew his sword and smote on the door with the pommel, and the
door opened to him and in he went:  and he found that fair hall full
of folk and bright with candles; and he stood amidst the floor; all
men looked on him, and many knew him at once to be a man of the
Ravagers, and silence fell upon the hall, but no man stirred hand
against him.  Then he said:  "Will ye hearken to the word of an evil
man, a robber of the folks?"

Spake the chieftain from the dais:  "Words will not hurt us, sea-
warrior; and thou art but one among many; wherefore thy might this
eve is but as the might of a new-born baby.  Speak, and afterwards
eat and drink, and depart safe from amongst us!"

Spake the Puny Fox:  "What is gone with Hallblithe, a fair young man
of your kindred, and with the Hostage of the Rose, his troth-plight
maiden?"

Then was the hush yet greater in the hall, so that you might have
heard a pin drop; and the chieftain said:  "It is a grief of ours
that they are gone, and that none hath brought us back their dead
bodies that we might lay them in the Acre of the Fathers."

Then leapt up a man from the end-long table nigh to Fox, and cried
out:  "Yea, folk! they are gone, and we deem that runagates of thy
kindred, O new-come man, have stolen them from us; wherefor they
shall one day pay us."

Then laughed the Puny Fox and said:  "Some would say that stealing
Hallblithe was like stealing a lion, and that he might take care of
himself; though he was not as big as I am."

Said the last speaker:  "Did thy kin or didst thou steal him, O evil
man?"

"Yea, I stole him," quoth Fox, "but by sleight, and not by might."

Then uprose great uproar in the hall, but the chieftain on the high-
seat cried out:  "Peace, peace!" and the noise abated, and the
chieftain said:  "Dost thou mean that thou comest hither to give us
thine head for making away with Hallblithe and the Hostage?"

"I mean to ask rather," said the Fox, "what thou wilt give me for the
bodies of these twain?"

Said the chieftain:  "A boat-load of gold were not too much if thou
shouldst live a little longer."

Quoth the Puny Fox:  "Well, in anywise I will go and bring in the
bodies aforesaid, and leave my reward to the goodwill of the Ravens."

Therewith he turned about to go, but lo! there already in the door
stood Hallblithe holding the Hostage by the hand; and many in the
hall saw them, for the door was wide.  Then they came in and stood by
the side of the Puny Fox, and all men in the hall arose and shouted
for joy.  But when the tumult was a little abated, the Puny Fox cried
out:  "O chieftain, and all ye folk! if a boat-load of gold were not
too much reward for the bringing back the dead bodies of your
friends, what reward shall he have who hath brought back their bodies
and the souls therein?"

Said the chieftain:  "The man shall choose his own reward."  And the
men in the hall shouted their yeasay.

Then said the Puny Fox:  "Well, then, this I choose, that ye make me
one of your kindred before the fathers of old time."

They all cried out that he had chosen wisely and manfully; but
Hallblithe said:  "I bid you do for him no less than this; and ye
shall wot that he is already my sworn brother-in-arms."

Now the chieftain cried out:  "O Wanderers from over the sea, come up
hither and sit with us and be merry at last!"

So they went up to the dais, Hallblithe and the Hostage, and the Puny
Fox and the six maidens withal.  And since the night was yet young,
the supper of the men of the Ravens was turned into the wedding-feast
of Hallblithe and the Hostage, and that very night she became a wife
of the Ravens, that she might bear to the House the best of men and
the fairest of women.

But on the morrow they brought the Puny Fox to the mote-stead of the
kindreds that he might stand before the fathers and be made a son of
the kindred; and this they did because of the word of Hallblithe, and
because they believed in the tale which he told them of the
Glittering Plain and the Acre of the Undying.  The four maidens also
were made sisters of the House; and the other twain were sent home to
their own kindred in all honour.

Of the Puny Fox it is said that he soon lost and forgot all the lore
which he had learned of the ancient men, living and dead; and became
as other men and was no wizard.  Yet he was exceeding valiant and
doughty; and he ceased not to go with Hallblithe wheresoever he went;
and many deeds they did together, whereof the memory of men hath
failed:  but neither they nor any man of the Ravens came any more to
the Glittering Plain, or heard any tidings of the folk that dwell
there.

HEREWITH ENDETH THE TALE.




End of Project Gutenberg Etext Story of the Glittering Plain, by Morris

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