The Roots of the Mountains Part 19

'I am not hurt,' she said. Then she smiled and said again:

'Did I not tell thee that I am no warrior like Bow-may here? Such deeds make maidens pale.'

Said Bow-may: 'If ye will have the truth, Gold-mane, she is not wont to grow pale when battle is nigh her. Look you, she hath had the gift of a new delight, and findeth it sweeter and softer than she had any thought of; and now hath she feared lest it should be taken from her.'

'Bow-may saith but the sooth,' said the Sun-beam simply, 'and kind it is of her to say it. I saw thee, Bow-may, and good was thy shooting, and I love thee for it.'

Said Bow-may: 'I never shoot otherwise than well. But those idle shooters of the Dusky Ones, whereabouts nigh to thee went their shafts?'

Said the Sun-beam: 'One just lifted the hair by my left ear, and that was not so ill-aimed; as for the other, it pierced my raiment by my right knee, and pinned me to the earth, so that I tottered and fell, and my gown and smock are grievously wounded, both of them.'

And she took the folds of the garments in her hands to show the rents therein; and her colour was come again, and she was glad.

'What were best to do now?' she said.

Said Face-of-G.o.d: 'Let us tarry a little; for some of thy carles shall surely come up from the Vale: because they will have heard Wood-wise's whoop, since the wind sets that way.'

'Yea, they will come,' said the Sun-beam.

'Good is that,' said Face-of-G.o.d; 'for they shall take the dead felons and cast them where they be not seen if perchance any more stray hereby. For if they wind them, they may well happen on the path down to the Vale. Also, my friend, it were well if thou wert to bid a good few of the carles that are in the Vale to keep watch and ward about here, lest there be more foemen wandering about the waste.'

She said: 'Thou art wise in war, Gold-mane; I will do as thou biddest me. But soothly this is a perilous thing that the Dusky Men are gotten so close to the Vale.'

Said Face-of-G.o.d: 'This will Folk-might look to when he cometh home; and it is most like that he will deem it good to fall on them somewhere a good way aloof, so as to draw them off from wandering over the waste. Also I will do my best to busy them when I am home in Burgdale.'

Therewith came up Wood-wise, and fell to talk with them; and his mind it was that these foemen were but a band of strayers, and had had no inkling of Shadowy Vale till they had heard them talking together as they came up the path from the Vale, and that then they had made that ambush behind the Elders' Rocks, so that they might slay the men, and then bear off the woman. He said withal that it would be best to carry their corpses further on, so that they might be cast over the cliffs into the fierce stream of the s.h.i.+vering Flood.

Amidst this talk came up men from the Vale, a score of them, well armed; and they ran to meet the wayfarers; and when they heard what had befallen, they rejoiced exceedingly, and were above all glad that Face-of-G.o.d had shown himself doughty and deft; and they deemed his rede wise, to set a watch thereabouts till Folk-might came home, and said that they would do even so.

Then spake the Sun-beam and said:

'Now must ye wayfarers depart; for the road is but rough, and the day not over-long.'

Then she turned to Face-of-G.o.d and put her hand on his shoulder, and brought her face close to his and spake to him softly:

'Doth this second parting seem at all strange to thee, and that I am now so familiar to thee, I whom thou didst once deem to be a very G.o.ddess? And now thou hast seen me redden before thine eyes because of thee; and thou hast seen me grow pale with fear because of thee; and thou hast felt my caresses which I might not refrain; even as if I were altogether such a maiden as ye warriors hang about for a nine days' wonder, and then all is over save an aching heart--wilt thou do so with me? Tell me, have I not belittled myself before thee as if I asked thee to scorn me? For thus desire dealeth both with maid and man.'

He said: 'In all this there is but one thing for me to say, and that is that I love thee; and surely none the less, but rather the more, because thou lovest me, and art of my kind, and mayest share in my deeds and think well of them. Now is my heart full of joy, and one thing only weigheth on it; and that is that my kinswoman the Bride begrudgeth our love together. For this is the thing that of all things most misliketh me, that any should bear a grudge against me.'

She said: 'Forget not the token, and my message to her.'

'I will not forget it,' said he. 'And now I bid thee to kiss me even before all these that are looking on; for there is nought to belittle us therein, since we be troth-plight.'

And indeed those folk stood all round about them gazing on them, but a little aloof, that they might not hear their words if they were minded to talk privily. For they had long loved the Sun-beam, and now the love of Face-of-G.o.d had begun to spring up in their hearts.

So the twain embraced and kissed one another, and made no haste thereover; and those men deemed that but meet and right, and clashed their weapons on their s.h.i.+elds in token of their joy.

Then Face-of-G.o.d turned about and strode out of the ring of men, with Bow-may and Wood-wise beside him, and they went on their journey over the necks towards Burgstead. But the Sun-beam turned slowly from that place toward the Vale, and two of the stoutest carles went along with her to guard her from harm, and she went down into the Vale pondering all these things in her heart.

Then the other carles dragged off the corpses of the Dusky Men till they had brought them to the sheer rocks above the s.h.i.+vering Flood, and there they tossed them over into the boiling caldron of the force, and so departed taking with them the silver arm-rings of the slain to add to the tale.

But when they came back into the Vale the Sun-beam duly ordered that watch and ward to keep the ingate thereto, and note all that should befall till Folk-might came home.

CHAPTER XXII. FACE-OF-G.o.d COMETH HOME TO BURGSTEAD

But Face-of-G.o.d with Bow-may and Wood-wise fared over the waste, going at first alongside the cliffs of the s.h.i.+vering Flood, and then afterwards turning somewhat to the west. They soon had to climb a very high and steep bent going up to a mountain-neck; and the way over the neck was rough indeed when they were on it, and they toiled out of it into a barren valley, and out of the valley again on to a rough neck; and such-like their journey the day long, for they were going athwart all those great d.y.k.es that went from the ice-mountains toward the lower dales like the outspread fingers of a hand or the roots of a great tree. And the ice-mountains they had on their left hands and whiles at their backs.

They went very warily, with their bows bended and spear in hand, but saw no man, good or bad, and but few living things. At noon they rested in a valley where was a stream, but no gra.s.s, nought but stones and sand; but where they were at least sheltered from the wind, which was mostly very great in these high wastes; and there Bow-may drew meat and wine from a wallet she bore, and they ate and drank, and were merry enough; and Bow-may said:

'I would I were going all the way with thee, Gold-mane; for I long sore to let my eyes rest a while on the land where I shall one day live.'

'Yea,' said Face-of-G.o.d, 'art thou minded to dwell there? We shall be glad of that.'

'Whither are thy wits straying?' said she; 'whether I am minded to it or not, I shall dwell there.'

And Wood-wise nodded a yea to her. But Face-of-G.o.d said:

'Good will be thy dwelling; but wherefore must it be so?'

Then Wood-wise laughed and said: 'I shall tell thee in fewer words than she will, and time presses now: Wood-father and Wood-mother, and I and my two brethren and this woman have ever been about and anigh the Sun-beam; and we deem that war and other troubles have made us of closer kin to her than we were born, whether ye call it brotherhood or what not, and never shall we sunder from her in life or in death. So when thou goest to Burgdale with her, there shall we be.'

Then was Face-of-G.o.d glad when he found that they deemed his wedding so settled and sure; but Wood-wise fell to making ready for the road.

And Face-of-G.o.d said to him:

'Tell me one thing, Wood-wise; that whoop that thou gavest forth when we were at handy-strokes e'en now--is it but a cry of thine own or is it of thy Folk, and shall I hear it again?'

'Thou may'st look to hear it many a time,' said Wood-wise, 'for it is the cry of the Wolf. Seldom indeed hath battle been joined where men of our blood are, but that cry is given forth. Come now, to the road!'

So they went their ways and the road worsened upon them, and toilsome was the climbing up steep bents and the scaling of doubtful paths in the cliff-sides, so that the journey, though the distance of it were not so long to the fowl flying, was much eked out for them, and it was not till near nightfall that they came on the ghyll of the Weltering Water some six miles above Burgstead. Forsooth Wood-wise said that the way might be made less toilsome though far longer by turning back eastward a little past the vale where they had rested at midday; and that seemed good to Gold-mane, in case they should be wending hereafter in a great company between Burgdale and Shadowy Vale.

But now those two went with Face-of-G.o.d down a path in the side of the cliff whereby him-seemed he had gone before; and they came down into the ghyll and sat down together on a stone by the water-side, and Face-of-G.o.d spake to them kindly, for he deemed them good and trusty faring-fellows.

'Bow-may,' said he, 'thou saidst a while ago that thou wouldst be fain to look on Burgdale; and indeed it is fair and lovely, and ye may soon be in it if ye will. Ye shall both be more than welcome to the house of my father, and heartily I bid you thither. For night is on us, and the way back is long and toilsome and beset with peril.

Sister Bow-may, thou wottest that it would be a sore grief to me if thou camest to any harm, and thou also, fellow Wood-wise. Daylight is a good faring-fellow over the waste.'

Said Bow-may: 'Thou art kind, Gold-mane, and that is thy wont, I know; and fain were I to-night of the candles in thine hall. But we may not tarry; for thou wottest how busy we be at home; and Sun-beam needeth me, if it were only to make her sure that no Dusky Man is bearing off thine head by its lovely locks. Neither shall we journey in the mirk night; for look you, the moon yonder.'

'Well,' said Face-of-G.o.d, 'parting is ill at the best, and I would I could give you twain a gift, and especially to thee, my sister Bow- may.'

Said Wood-wise: 'Thou may'st well do that; or at least promise the gift; and that is all one as if we held it in our hands.'

'Yea,' said Bow-may, 'Wood-wise and I have been thinking in one way belike; and I was at point to ask a gift of thee.'

'What is it?' said Gold-mane. 'Surely it is thine, if it were but a guerdon for thy good shooting.'