The Roots of the Mountains

by William Morris

  CHAPTER XV. MURDER AMONGST THE FOLK OF THE WOODLANDERS.

  SO wore away midwinter tidingless. Stone-face spake no more toFace-of-god about the wood and its wights, when he saw that the young manhad come back hale and merry, seemed not to crave over-much to go backthither. As for the Bride, she was sad, and more than misdoubted all;but dauntless as she was in matters that try men’s hardihood, she yetlacked heart to ask of Face-of-god what had befallen him since theautumn-tide, or where he was with her. So she put a force upon herselfnot to look sad or craving when she was in his company, as full oft shewas; for he rather sought her than shunned her. For when he saw herthus, he deemed things were changing with her as they had changed withhim, and he bethought him of what he had spoken to Bow-may, and deemedthat even so he might speak with the Bride when the time came, and thatshe would not be grieved beyond measure, and all would be well.

  Now came on the thaw, and the snow went, and the grass grew all up anddown the Dale, and all waters were big. And about this time aroserumours of strange men in the wood, uncouth, vile, and murderous, andmany of the feebler sort were made timorous thereby.

  But a little before March was born came new tidings from the Woodlanders;to wit: There came on a time to the house of a woodland carle, a worthygoodman well renowned of all, two wayfarers in the first watch of thenight; and these men said that they were wending down to the Plain from afar-away dale, Rose-dale to wit, which all men had heard of, and thatthey had strayed from the way and were exceeding weary, and they craved ameal’s meat and lodging for the night.

  This the goodman might nowise gainsay, and he saw no harm in it,wherefore he bade them abide and be merry.

  These men, said they who told the tidings, were outlanders, and no manhad seen any like them before: they were armed, and bore short bows madeof horn, and round targets, and coats-of-fence done over with hornscales; they had crooked swords girt to their sides, and axes of steelforged all in one piece, right good weapons. They were clad in scarletand had much silver on their raiment and about their weapons, and greatrings of the same on their arms; and all this silver seemed brand-new.

  Now the Woodland Carle gave them of such things as he had, and was kindand blithe to them: there were in his house besides himself five men ofhis sons and kindred, and his wife and three daughters and two othermaids. So they feasted after the Woodlanders’ fashion, and went to bed alittle before midnight. Two hours after, the carle awoke and heard alittle stir, and he looked and saw the guests on their feet amidst thehall clad in all their war-gear; and they had betwixt them his twoyoungest daughters, maids of fifteen and twelve winters, and had boundtheir hands and done clouts over their mouths, so that they might not cryout; and they were just at point to carry them off. Thereat the goodman,naked as he was, caught up his sword and made at these murder-carles, andor ever they were ware of him he had hewn down one and turned to face theother, who smote at him with his steel axe and gave him a great wound onthe shoulder, and therewithal fled out at the open door and forth intothe wood.

  The Woodlander made no stay to raise the cry (there was no need, for thehall was astir now from end to end, and men getting to their weapons),but ran out after the felon even as he was; and, in spite of his grievoushurt, overran him no long way from the house before he had gotten intothe thicket. But the man was nimble and strong, and the goodman unsteadyfrom his wound, and by then the others of the household came up with thehue and cry he had gotten two more sore wounds and was just making an endof throttling the felon with his bare hands. So he fell into their armsfainting from weakness, and for all they could do he died in two hours’time from that axe-wound in his shoulder, and another on the side of thehead, and a knife-thrust in his side; and he was a man of sixty winters.

  But the stranger he had slain outright; and the one whom he had smittenin the hall died before the dawn, thrusting all help aside, and making nosound of speech.

  When these tidings came to Burgstead they seemed great to men, and toGold-mane more than all. So he and many others took their weapons andfared up to Wildlake’s Way, and so came to the Woodland Carles. But theWoodlanders had borne out the carcasses of those felons and laid them onthe green before Wood-grey’s door (for that was the name of the deadgoodman), and they were saying that they would not bury such accursedfolk, but would bear them a little way so that they should not be vexedwith the stink of them, and cast them into the thicket for the wolf andthe wild-cat and the stoat to deal with; and they should lie there,weapons and silver and all; and they deemed it base to strip suchwretches, for who would wear their raiment or bear their weapons afterthem.

  There was a great ring of folk round about them when they of Burgsteaddrew near, and they shouted for joy to see their neighbours, and made waybefore them. Then the Dalesmen cursed these murderers who had slain sogood a man, and they all praised his manliness, whereas he ran out intothe night naked and wounded after his foe, and had fallen like his folkof old time.

  It was a bright spring afternoon in that clearing of the Wood, and theylooked at the two dead men closely; and Gold-mane, who had been somewhatsilent and moody till then, became merry and wordy; for he beheld the menand saw that they were utterly strange to him: they were short ofstature, crooked-legged, long-armed, very strong for their size: withsmall blue eyes, snubbed-nosed, wide-mouthed, thin-lipped, very swarthyof skin, exceeding foul of favour. He and all others wondered who theywere, and whence they came, for never had they seen their like; and theWoodlanders, who often guested outlanders strayed from the way of diverskindreds and nations, said also that none such had they ever seen. ButStone-face, who stood by Gold-mane, shook his head and quoth he:

  ‘The Wild-wood holdeth many marvels, and these be of them: the spawn ofevil wights quickeneth therein, and at other whiles it melteth away againlike the snow; so may it be with these carcasses.’

  And some of the older folk of the Woodlanders who stood by hearkened whathe said, and deemed his words wise, for they remembered their ancientlore and many a tale of old time.

  Thereafter they of Burgstead went into Wood-grey’s hall, or as many ofthem as might, for it was but a poor place and not right great. Therethey saw the goodman laid on the daïs in all his war-gear, under the lasttie-beam of his hall, whereon was carved amidst much goodly work of knotsand flowers and twining stems the image of the Wolf of the Waste, hisjaws open and gaping: the wife and daughters of the goodman and otherwomen of the folk stood about the bier singing some old song in a lowvoice, and some sobbing therewithal, for the man was much beloved: andmuch people of the Woodlanders was in the hall, and it was somewhat duskwithin.

  So the Burgstead men greeted that folk kindly and humbly, and again theyfell to praising the dead man, saying how his deed should long beremembered in the Dale and wide about; and they called him a fearless manand of great worth. And the women hearkened, and ceased their crooningand their sobbing, and stood up proudly and raised their heads withgleaming eyes; and as the words of the Burgstead men ended, they liftedup their voices and sang loudly and clearly, standing together in a row,ten of them, on the daïs of that poor hall, facing the gable and thewolf-adorned tie-beam, heeding nought as they sang what was about orbehind them.

  And this is some of what they sang:

  Why sit ye bare in the spinning-room? Why weave ye naked at the loom?

  Bare and white as the moon we be, That the Earth and the drifting night may see.

  Now what is the worst of all your work? What curse amidst the web shall lurk?

  The worst of the work our hands shall win Is wrack and ruin round the kin.

  Shall the woollen yarn and the flaxen thread Be gear for living men or dead?

  The woollen yarn and the flaxen thread Shall flare ’twixt living men and dead.

  O what is the ending of your day? When shall ye rise and wend away?

  Our day shall end to-morrow morn, When we hear the voice of the battle-horn.

  Where
first shall eyes of men behold This weaving of the moonlight cold?

  There where the alien host abides The gathering on the Mountain-sides.

  How long aloft shall the fair web fly When the bows are bent and the spears draw nigh?

  From eve to morn and morn till eve Aloft shall fly the work we weave.

  What then is this, the web ye win? What wood-beast waxeth stark therein?

  We weave the Wolf and the gift of war From the men that were to the men that are.

  So sang they: and much were all men moved at their singing, and there wasnone but called to mind the old days of the Fathers, and the years whentheir banner went wide in the world.

  But the Woodlanders feasted them of Burgstead what they might, and thenwent the Dalesmen back to their houses; but on the morrow’s morrow theyfared thither again, and Wood-grey was laid in mound amidst a greatassemblage of the Folk.

  Many men said that there was no doubt that those two felons were of thecompany of those who had ransacked the steads of Penny-thumb andHarts-bane; and so at first deemed Bristler the son of Brightling: butafter a while, when he had had time to think of it, he changed his mind;for he said that such men as these would have slain first and ransackedafterwards: and some who loved neither Penny-thumb nor Harts-bane saidthat they would not have been at the pains to choose for ransacking thetwo worst men about the Dale, whose loss was no loss to any butthemselves.

  As for Gold-mane he knew not what to think, except that his friends ofthe Mountain had had nought to do with it.

  So wore the days awhile.