Read House of the Wolfings: The William Morris Book that Inspired J. R. R. Tolkiena *s The Lord of the Rings Online

Authors: Michael W. Perry

Tags: #fiction, #historical fiction, #fantasy, #william morris, #j r r tolkien, #tolkien, #lord of the rings, #the lord of the rings, #middleearth, #c s lewis, #hobbit

House of the Wolfings: The William Morris Book that Inspired J. R. R. Tolkiena *s The Lord of the Rings (15 page)

BOOK: House of the Wolfings: The William Morris Book that Inspired J. R. R. Tolkiena *s The Lord of the Rings
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But no Wolfings round their banner and no
warrior of the Shield,

No Geiring and no Hrossing in the burg or on
the field.

She held her peace for a little while, and
no one dared to speak; then she lifted up her head and spake:

Now I go by the lip of the wild-wood and a
sound withal I hear,

As of men in the paths of the thicket, and a
many drawing anear.

Then, muffled yet by the tree-boles, I hear
the Shielding song,

And warriors blithe and merry with the
battle of the strong.

Give back a little, Markmen, make way for
men to pass

To your ordered battle-dwelling o’er the
trodden meadow-grass,

For alive with men is the wild-wood and
shineth with the steel,

And hath a voice most merry to tell of the
Kindreds’ weal

’Twixt each tree a warrior standeth come
back from the spear-strewn way,

And forth they come from the wild-wood and a
little band are they.

Then again was she silent; but her head sank
not, as of one thinking, as before it did, but she looked straight
forward with bright eyes and smiling, as she said:

Lo, now the guests they are bringing that ye
have not seen before;

Yet guests but ill-entreated; for they lack
their shields of war,

No spear in the hand they carry and with no
sax are girt.

Lo, these are the dreaded foemen, these once
so strong to hurt;

The men that all folk fled from, the swift
to drive the spoil,

The men that fashioned nothing but the trap
to make men toil.

They drew the sword in the cities, they came
and struck the stroke

And smote the shield of the Markmen, and
point and edge they broke.

They drew the sword in the war-garth, they
swore to bring aback

God’s gifts from the Markmen houses where
the tables never lack.

O Markmen, take the God-gifts that came on
their own feet

O’er the hills through the Mirkwood thicket
the Stone of Tyr to meet!

Again she stayed her song, which had been
loud and joyous, and they who heard her knew that the Kindreds had
gained the day, and whilst the Hall-Sun was silent they fell to
talking of this fair day of battle and the taking of captives. But
presently she spread out her hands again and they held their peace,
and she said:

I see, O Wolfing women, and many a thing I
see,

But not all things, O elders, this eve shall
ye learn of me,

For another mouth there cometh: the thicket
I behold

And the Sons of Tyr amidst it, and I see the
oak-trees old,

And the war-shout ringing round them; and I
see the battle-lord

Unhelmed amidst of the mighty; and I see his
leaping sword;

Strokes struck and warriors falling, and the
streaks of spears I see,

But hereof shall the other tell you who
speaketh after me.

For none other than the Shieldings from out
the wood have come,

And they shift the turn with the Daylings to
drive the folk-spear home,

And to follow with the Wolfings and thrust
the war-beast forth.

And so good men deem the tidings that they
bid them journey north

On the feet of a Shielding runner, that
Gisli hath to name;

And west of the water he wendeth by the way
that the Wolfings came;

Now for sleep he tarries never, and no meat
is in his mouth

Till the first of the Houses hearkeneth the
tidings of the south;

Lo, he speaks, and the mead-sea sippeth, and
the bread by the way doth eat,

And over the Geiring threshold and outward
pass his feet;

And he breasts the Burg of the Daylings and
saith his happy word,

And stayeth to drink for a minute of the
waves of Battle-ford.

Lone then by the stream he runneth, and
wendeth the wild-wood road,

And dasheth through the hazels of the
Oselings’ fair abode,

And the Elking women know it, and their
hearts are glad once more,

And ye—yea, hearken, Wolfings, for his feet
are at the door.

Chapter 12

Tidings of the Battle in Mirkwood

As the Hall-Sun made an end they heard in
good sooth the feet of the runner on the hard ground without the
hall, and presently the door opened and he came leaping over the
threshold, and up to the table, and stood leaning on it with one
hand, his breast heaving with his last swift run. Then he spake
presently:

“I am Gisli of the Shieldings: Otter sendeth
me to the Hall-Sun; but on the way I was to tell tidings to the
Houses west of the Water: so have I done. Now is my journey ended;
for Otter saith: ‘Let the Hall-Sun note the tidings and send word
of them by four of the lightest limbed of the women, or by lads
a-horseback, both west and east of the Water; let her send the word
as it seemeth to her, whether she hath seen it or not. I will drink
a short draught since my running is over.”

Then a damsel brought him a horn of mead and
let it come into his hand, and he drank sighing with pleasure,
while the damsel for pleasure of him and his tidings laid her hand
on his shoulder. Then he set down the horn and spake:

“We, the Shieldings, with the Geirings, the
Hrossings, and the Wolfings, three hundred warriors and more, were
led into the Wood by Thiodolf the War-duke, beside whom went Fox,
who hath seen the Romans. We were all afoot; for there is no wide
way through the Wood, nor would we have it otherwise, lest the foe
find the thicket easy. But many of us know the thicket and its
ways; so we made not the easy hard. I was near the War-duke, for I
know the thicket and am light-foot: I am a bowman. I saw Thiodolf
that he was unhelmed and bore no shield, nor had he any coat of
fence; nought but a deer-skin frock.”

As he said that word, the carline, who had
drawn very near to him and was looking hard at his face, turned and
looked on the Hall-Sun and stared at her till she reddened under
those keen eyes: for in her heart began to gather some knowledge of
the tale of her mother and what her will was.

But Gisli went on: “Yet by his side was his
mighty sword, and we all knew it for Throng-plough, and were glad
of it and of him and the unfenced breast of the dauntless. Six
hours we went spreading wide through the thicket, not always seeing
one another, but knowing one another to be nigh; those that knew
the thicket best led, the others followed on. So we went till it
was high noon on the plain and glimmering dusk in the thicket, and
we saw nought, save here and there a roe, and here and there a
sounder of swine, and coneys where it was opener, and the sun shone
and the grass grew for a little space. So came we unto where the
thicket ended suddenly, and there was a long glade of the
wild-wood, all set about with great oak-trees and grass thereunder,
which I knew well; and thereof the tale tells that it was a holy
place of the folk who abided in these parts before the Sons of the
Goths. Now will I drink.”

So he drank of the horn and said: “It
seemeth that Fox had a deeming of the way the Romans should come;
so now we abided in the thicket without that glade and lay quiet
and hidden, spreading ourselves as much about that lawn of the
oak-trees as we might, the while Fox and three others crept through
the wood to espy what might be toward: not long had they been gone
ere we heard a war-horn blow, and it was none of our horns: it was
a long way off, but we looked to our weapons: for men are eager for
the foe and the death that cometh, when they lie hidden in the
thicket. A while passed, and again we heard the horn, and it was
nigher and had a marvellous voice; then in a while was a little
noise of men, not their voices, but footsteps going warily through
the brake to the south, and twelve men came slowly and warily into
that oak-lawn, and lo, one of them was Fox; but he was clad in the
raiment of the dastard of the Goths whom he had slain. I tell you
my heart beat, for I saw that the others were Roman men, and one of
them seemed to be a man of authority, and he held Fox by the
shoulder, and pointed to the thicket where we lay, and something he
said to him, as we saw by his gesture and face, but his voice we
heard not, for he spake soft.

“Then of those ten men of his he sent back
two, and Fox going between them, as though he should be slain if he
misled them; and he and the eight abided there wisely and warily,
standing silently some six feet from each other, moving scarce at
all, but looking like images fashioned of brown copper and iron;
holding their casting-spears (which be marvellous heavy weapons)
and girt with the sax.

“As they stood there, not out of earshot of
a man speaking in his wonted voice, our War-duke made a sign to
those about him, and we spread very quietly to the right hand and
the left of him once more, and we drew as close as might be to the
thicket’s edge, and those who had bows the nighest thereto. Thus
then we abided a while again; and again came the horn’s voice; for
belike they had no mind to come their ways covertly because of
their pride.

“Soon therewithal comes Fox creeping back to
us, and I saw him whisper into the ear of the War-duke, but heard
not the word he said. I saw that he had hanging to him two Roman
saxes, so I deemed he had slain those two, and so escaped the
Romans. Maidens, it were well that ye gave me to drink again, for I
am weary and my journey is done.”

So again they brought him the horn, and made
much of him; and he drank, and then spake on.

“Now heard we the horn’s voice again quite
close, and it was sharp and shrill, and nothing like to the roar of
our battle-horns: still was the wood and no wind abroad, not even
down the oak-lawn; and we heard now the tramp of many men as they
thrashed through the small wood and bracken of the thicket-way; and
those eight men and their leader came forward, moving like one,
close up to the thicket where I lay, just where the path passed
into the thicket beset by the Sons of the Goths: so near they were
that I could see the dints upon their armour, and the strands of
the wire on their sax-handles. Down then bowed the tall bracken on
the further side of the wood-lawn, the thicket crashed before the
march of men, and on they strode into the lawn, a goodly band,
wary, alert, and silent of cries.

“But when they came into the lawn they
spread out somewhat to their left hands, that is to say on the west
side, for that way was the clear glade; but on the east the thicket
came close up to them and edged them away. Therein lay the
Goths.

“There they stayed awhile, and spread out
but a little, as men marching, not as men fighting. A while we let
them be; and we saw their captain, no big man, but dight with very
fair armour and weapons; and there drew up to him certain Goths
armed, the dastards of the folk, and another unarmed, an old man
bound and bleeding. With these Goths had the captain some converse,
and presently he cried out two or three words of Welsh in a loud
voice, and the nine men who were ahead shifted them somewhat away
from us to lead down the glade westward.

“The prey had come into the net, but they
had turned their faces toward the mouth of it.

“Then turned Thiodolf swiftly to the man
behind him who carried the war-horn, and every man handled his
weapons: but that man understood, and set the little end to his
mouth, and loud roared the horn of the Markmen, and neither friend
nor foe misdoubted the tale thereof. Then leaped every man to his
feet, all bow-strings twanged and the cast-spears flew; no man
forebore to shout; each as he might leapt out of the thicket and
fell on with sword and axe and spear, for it was from the bowmen
but one shaft and no more.

“Then might you have seen Thiodolf as he
bounded forward like the wild-cat on the hare, how he had no eyes
for any save the Roman captain. Foemen enough he had round about
him after the two first bounds from the thicket; for the Romans
were doing their best to spread, that they might handle those heavy
cast-spears, though they might scarce do it, just come out of the
thicket as they were, and thrust together by that onslaught of the
kindreds falling on from two sides and even somewhat from behind.
To right and left flashed Throng-plough, while Thiodolf himself
scarce seemed to guide it: men fell before him at once, and close
at his heels poured the Wolfing kindred into the gap, and in a
minute of time was he amidst of the throng and face to face with
the gold-dight captain.

“What with the sweep of Throng-plough and
the Wolfing onrush, there was space about him for a great stroke;
he gave a side-long stroke to his right and hewed down a tall
Burgundian, and then up sprang the white blade, but ere its edge
fell he turned his wrist, and drove the point through that
Captain’s throat just above the ending of his hauberk, so that he
fell dead amidst of his folk.

“All the four kindreds were on them now, and
amidst them, and needs must they give way: but stoutly they fought;
for surely no other warriors might have withstood that onslaught of
the Markmen for the twinkling of an eye: but had the Romans had but
the space to have spread themselves out there, so as to handle
their shot-weapons, many a woman’s son of us had fallen; for no man
shielded himself in his eagerness, but let the swiftness of the
Onset of point-and-edge shield him; which, sooth to say, is often a
good shield, as here was found.

“So those that were unslain and unhurt fled
west along the glade, but not as dastards, and had not Thiodolf
followed hard in the chase according to his wont, they might even
yet have made a fresh stand and spread from oak-tree to oak-tree
across the glade: but as it befel, they might not get a fair offing
so as to disentangle themselves and array themselves in good order
side by side; and whereas the Markmen were fleet of foot, and in
the woods they knew, there were a many aliens slain in the chase or
taken alive unhurt or little hurt: but the rest fled this way and
that way into the thicket, with whom were some of the Burgundians;
so there they abide now as outcasts and men unholy, to be slain as
wild-beasts one by one as we meet them.

BOOK: House of the Wolfings: The William Morris Book that Inspired J. R. R. Tolkiena *s The Lord of the Rings
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