CHAPTER 10
Of the Desert-House and the Chamber of Love in the Wilderness
Then in a while they grew sober and went on their ways, and the sun waswestering behind them, and casting long shadows. And in a little whilethey were come out of the thick woods and were in a country of steeplittle valleys, grassy, besprinkled with trees and bushes, with hillsof sandstone going up from them, which were often broken into cliffsrising sheer from the tree-beset bottoms: and they saw plenteous deerboth great and small, and the wild things seemed to fear them butlittle. To Ralph it seemed an exceeding fair land, and he was asjoyous as it was fair; but the Lady was pensive, and at last she said:"Thou deemest it fair, and so it is; yet is it the lonesomest ofdeserts. I deem indeed that it was once one of the fairest of lands,with castles and cots and homesteads all about, and fair people no few,busy with many matters amongst them. But now it is all passed away,and there is no token of a dwelling of man, save it might be that thosemounds we see, as yonder, and yonder again, are tofts of house-wallslong ago sunken into the earth of the valley. And now few even are thehunters or way-farers that wend through it."
Quoth Ralph: "Thou speakest as if there had been once histories andtales of this pleasant wilderness: tell me, has it anything to do withthat land about the wide river which we went through, Roger and I, aswe rode to the Castle of Abundance the other day? For he spoke oftales of deeds and mishaps concerning it." "Yea," she said, "so it is,and the little stream that runs yonder beneath those cliffs, is makingits way towards that big river aforesaid, which is called the SwellingFlood. Now true it is also that there are many tales about of the warsand miseries that turned this land into a desert, and these may be trueenough, and belike are true. But these said tales have become blendedwith the story of those aforesaid wars of the Land of the Tower; ofwhich indeed this desert is verily a part, but was desert still in thedays when I was Queen of the Land; so thou mayst well think that theywho hold me to be the cause of all this loneliness (and belike Rogerthought it was so) have scarce got hold of the very sooth of thematter."
"Even so I deemed," said Ralph: "and to-morrow we shall cross the bigriver, thou and I. Is there a ferry or a ford there whereas we shallcome, or how shall we win over it?"
She was growing merrier again now, and laughed at this and said: "Ofair boy! the crossing will be to-morrow and not to-day; let to-morrowcross its own rivers; for surely to-day is fair enough, and fairershall it be when thou hast been fed and art sitting by me in rest andpeace till to-morrow morning. So now hasten yet a little more; and wewill keep the said little stream in sight as well as we may for thebushes."
So they sped on, till Ralph said: "Will thy feet never tire, beloved?""O child," she said, "thou hast heard my story, and mayst well deemthat they have wrought many a harder day's work than this day's. Andmoreover they shall soon rest; for look! yonder is our house for thiseven, and till to-morrow's sun is high: the house for me and thee andnone else with us." And therewith she pointed to a place where thestream ran in a chain of pools and stickles, and a sheer cliff rose upsome fifty paces beyond it, but betwixt the stream and the cliff was asmooth table of greensward, with three fair thorn bushes thereon, andit went down at each end to the level of the river's lip by a greenslope, but amidmost, the little green plain was some ten feet above thestream, and was broken by a little undercliff, which went down sheerinto the water. And Ralph saw in the face of the high cliff the mouthof a cave, however deep it might be.
"Come," said the Lady, "tarry not, for I know that hunger hath hold ofthee, and look, how low the sun is growing!" Then she caught him by thehand, and fell to running with him to the edge of the stream, where atthe end of the further slope it ran wide and shallow before it enteredinto a deep pool overhung with boughs of alder and thorn. She steppeddaintily over a row of big stones laid in the rippling shallow; andstaying herself in mid-stream on the biggest of them, and gathering upher gown, looked up stream with a happy face, and then looked over hershoulder to Ralph and said: "The year has been good to me theseseasons, so that when I stayed here on my way to the Castle ofAbundance, I found but few stones washed away, and crossed wellnighdry-shod, but this stone my feet are standing on now, I brought downfrom under the cliff, and set it amid-most, and I said that when Ibrought thee hither I would stay thereon and talk with thee while Istood above the freshness of the water, as I am doing now."
Ralph looked on her and strove to answer her, but no words would cometo his lips, because of the greatness of his longing; she looked on himfondly, and then stooped to look at the ripples that bubbled up abouther shoes, and touched them at whiles; then she said: "See how theylong for the water, these feet that have worn the waste so long, andknow how kind it will run over them and lap about them: but ye mustabide a little, waste-wearers, till we have done a thing or two. Come,love!" And she reached her hand out behind her to Ralph, not lookingback, but when she felt his hand touch it, she stepped lightly over theother stones, and on to the grass with him, and led him quietly up theslope that went up to the table of greensward before the cave. Butwhen they came on to the level grass she kissed him, and then turnedtoward the valley and spake solemnly: "May all blessings light on thisHouse of the wilderness and this Hall of the Summer-tide, and theChamber of Love that here is!"
Then was she silent a while, and Ralph brake not the silence. Then sheturned to him with a face grown merry and smiling, and said: "Lo! howthe poor lad yearneth for meat, as well he may, so long as the day hathbeen. Ah, beloved, thou must be patient a little. For belike ourservants have not yet heard of the wedding of us. So we twain mustfeed each the other. Is that so much amiss?"
He laughed in her face for love, and took her by the wrist, but shedrew her hand away and went into the cave, and came forth anon holdinga copper kettle with an iron bow, and a bag of meal, which she laid athis feet; then she went into the cave again, and brought forth a flaskof wine and a beaker; then she caught up the little cauldron, which waswell-beaten, and thin and light, and ran down to the stream therewith,and came up thence presently, bearing it full of water on her head,going as straight and stately as the spear is seen on a day of tourney,moving over the barriers that hide the knight, before he lays it in therest. She came up to him and set the water-kettle before him, and puther hands on his shoulders, and kissed his cheek, and then stepped backfrom him and smote her palms together, and said: "Yea, it is well! Butthere are yet more things to do before we rest. There is the dightingof the chamber, and the gathering of wood for the fire, and the mixingof the meal, and the kneading and the baking of cakes; and all that ismy work, and there is the bringing of the quarry for the roast, andthat is thine."
Then she ran into the cave and brought forth a bow and a quiver ofarrows, and said: "Art thou somewhat of an archer?" Quoth he: "Ishoot not ill." "And I," she said, "shoot well, all woodcraft comeshandy to me. But this eve I must trust to thy skill for my supper. Goswiftly and come back speedily. Do off thine hauberk, and beat thebushes down in the valley, and bring me some small deer, as roe or hareor coney. And wash thee in the pool below the stepping-stones, as Ishall do whiles thou art away, and by then thou comest back, all shallbe ready, save the roasting of the venison."
So he did off his wargear, but thereafter tarried a little, looking ather, and she said: "What aileth thee not to go? the hunt's up." Hesaid: "I would first go see the rock-hall that is for our chamberto-night; wilt thou not bring me in thither?" "Nay," she said, "for Imust be busy about many matters; but thou mayst go by thyself, if thouwilt."
So he went and stooped down and entered the cave, and found it high andwide within, and clean and fresh and well-smelling, and the floor offine white sand without a stain.
So he knelt down and kissed the floor, and said aloud: "God bless thisfloor of the rock-hall whereon my love shall lie to-night!" Then hearose and went out of the cave, and found the Lady at the entrystooping down to see what he would do; and she looked on him fondly andanxiously; but he
turned a merry face to her, and caught her round themiddle and strained her to his bosom, and then took the bow and arrowsand ran down the slope and over the stream, into the thicket of thevalley.
He went further than he had looked for, ere he found a prey to hismind, and then he smote a roe with a shaft and slew her, and broke upthe carcase and dight it duly, and so went his ways back. When he cameto the stream he looked up and saw a little fire glittering not farfrom the cave, but had no clear sight of the Lady, though he thought hesaw her gown fluttering nigh one of the thorn-bushes. Then he did offhis raiment and entered that pool of the stream, and was glad to bathehim in the same place where her body had been but of late; for he hadnoted that the stones of the little shore were still wet with her feetwhere she had gone up from the water.
But now, as he swam and sported in the sun-warmed pool he deemed heheard the whinnying of a horse, but was not sure, so he held himselfstill to listen, and heard no more. Then he laughed and bethought himof Falcon his own steed, and dived down under the water; but as he cameup, laughing still and gasping, he heard a noise of the clatter ofhorse hoofs, as if some one were riding swiftly up the further side ofthe grassy table, where it was stony, as he had noted when they passedby.
A deadly fear fell upon his heart as he thought of his love left allalone; so he gat him at once out of the water and cast his shirt overhis head; but while his arms were yet entangled in the sleeves thereof,came to his ears a great and awful sound of a man's voice roaring out,though there were no shapen words in the roar. Then were his arms freethrough the sleeves, and he took up the bow and fell to bending it, andeven therewith he heard a great wailing of a woman's voice, and shecried out, piteously: "Help me, O help, lovely creature of God!"
Yet must he needs finish bending the bow howsoever his heart diedwithin him; or what help would there be of a naked and unarmed man? Atlast it was bent and an arrow nocked on the string, as he leapt overthe river and up the slope.
But even as he came up to that pleasant place he saw all in a moment oftime; that there stood Silverfax anigh the Cave's mouth, and the Ladylying on the earth anigh the horse; and betwixt her and him the Knightof the Sun stood up stark, his shining helm on his head, the last raysof the setting sun flashing in the broidered image of his armouries.
He turned at once upon Ralph, shaking his sword in the air (and therewas blood upon the blade) and he cried out in terrible voice: "Thewitch is dead, the whore is dead! And thou, thief, who hast stolen herfrom me, and lain by her in the wilderness, now shalt thou die, thou!"
Scarce had he spoken than Ralph drew his bow to the arrow-head andloosed; there was but some twenty paces betwixt them, and the shaft,sped by that fell archer, smote the huge man through the eye into thebrain, and he fell down along clattering, dead without a word more.
But Ralph gave forth a great wail of woe, and ran forward and knelt bythe Lady, who lay all huddled up face down upon the grass, and helifted her up and laid her gently on her back. The blood was flowingfast from a great wound in her breast, and he tore off a piece of hisshirt to staunch it, but she without knowledge of him breathed forthher last breath ere he could touch the hurt, and he still knelt by her,staring on her as if he knew not what was toward.
She had dight her what she could to welcome his return from thehunting, and had set a wreath of meadow-sweet on her red hair, and agarland of eglantine about her girdlestead, and left her feet nakedafter the pool of the stream, and had turned the bezels of herfinger-rings outward, for joy of that meeting.
After a while he rose up with a most bitter cry, and ran down the greenslope and over the water, and hither and thither amongst the busheslike one mad, till he became so weary that he might scarce go or standfor weariness. Then he crept back again to that Chamber of Love, andsat down beside his new-won mate, calling to mind all the wasted wordsof the day gone by; for the summer night was come now, most fair andfragrant. But he withheld the sobbing passion of his heart and putforth his hand, and touched her, and she was still, and his hand felther flesh that it was cold as marble. And he cried out aloud in thenight and the wilderness, where there was none to hear him, and aroseand went away from her, passing by Silverfax who was standing nearby,stretching out his head, and whinnying at whiles. And he sat on theedge of the green table, and there came into his mind despite himselfthoughts of the pleasant fields of Upmeads, and his sports andpleasures there, and the even-song of the High House, and the folk ofhis fellowship and his love. And therewith his breast arose and hisface was wryed, and he wept loud and long, and as if he should nevermake an end of it. But so weary was he, that at last he lay back andfell asleep, and woke not till the sun was high in the heavens. And soit was, that his slumber had been so heavy, that he knew not at firstwhat had befallen; and one moment he felt glad, and the next as if heshould never be glad again, though why he wotted not. Then he turnedabout and saw Silverfax cropping the grass nearby, and the Lady lyingthere like an image that could move no whit, though the world awokeabout her. Then he remembered, yet scarce all, so that wild hopesswelled his heart, and he rose to his knees and turned to her, andcalled to mind that he should never see her alive again, and sobbingand wailing broke out from him, for he was young and strong, and sorrowdealt hardly with him.
But presently he arose to his feet and went hither and thither, andcame upon the quenched coals of the cooking-fire: she had baked cakesfor his eating, and he saw them lying thereby, and hunger constrainedhim, so he took and ate of them while the tears ran down his face andmingled with the bread he ate. And when he had eaten, he felt strongerand therefore was life more grievous to him, and when he thought whathe should do, still one thing seemed more irksome than the other.
He went down to the water to drink, and passed by the body of theKnight of the Sun, and wrath was fierce in his heart against him whohad overthrown his happiness. But when he had drunk and washed handsand face he came back again, and hardened his heart to do what he mustneeds do. He took up the body of the Lady and with grief that may notbe told of, he drew it into the cave, and cut boughs of trees and laidthem over her face and all her body, and then took great stones fromthe scree at that other end of the little plain, and heaped them uponher till she was utterly hidden by them. Then he came out on to thegreen place and looked on the body of his foe, and said to himself thatall must be decent and in order about the place whereas lay his love.And he came and stood over the body and said: "I have naught to do tohate him now: if he hated me, it was but for a little while, and heknew naught of me. So let his bones be covered up from the wolf andthe kite. Yet shall they not lie alongside of her. I will raise acairn above him here on this fair little plain which he spoilt of alljoy." Therewith he fell to, and straightened his body, and laid hishuge limbs together and closed his eyes and folded his arms over hisbreast; and then he piled the stones above him, and went on castingthem on the heap a long while after there was need thereof.
Ralph had taken his raiment from the stream-side and done them onbefore this, and now he did on helm and hauberk, and girt his sword tohis side. Then as he was about leaving the sorrowful place, he lookedon Silverfax, who had not strayed from the little plain, and came up tohim and did off saddle and bridle, and laid them within the cave, andbade the beast go whither he would. He yet lingered about the place,and looked all around him and found naught to help him, and could framein his mind no intent of a deed then, nor any tale of a deed he shoulddo thereafter. Yet belike in his mind were two thoughts, and thoughneither softened his grief save a little, he did not shrink from themas he did from all others; and these two were of his home at Upmeads,which was so familiar to him, and of the Well at the World's End, whichwas but a word.
The Well at the World's End: A Tale Page 35
