The Water of the Wondrous Isles, William Morris [funny books to read .txt] 📗

array of a young man, with such armour as I may easily bear, to dight me for my road.  Forsooth ye wot that not unseldom do women use the custom of going arrayed like men, when they would journey with hidden head; and ye may happen upon such gear as hath been made for such a woman rather than any man; but thou shalt get me also a short bow and a quiver of arrows, for verily these be my proper weapons that I can deal with deftly.  Now my last command is that, when all is done, maybe to-morrow, or maybe the next day, ye bring me out of the city and the frank of the Five Crafts, and bring me somewhat on my way over the downs, for loth am I to part from you ere needs must.  Then they knelt before her and kissed her hands, and they were full of grief; but they saw that so it had to be.

Thereafter Gerard spake with his sons apart, and in a while came to Birdalone, and said: Our lady, we will do your will in all wise; but we shall tell thee, that the Five Crafts will look but strange to us when thou art gone, and that we have a mind to betake us to Utterhay and the land of our kindred.  Wherefore we pray thee to give this house that hath been so dear to us unto thy workwoman and her mates; for we need it not, nor the hire thereof, but shall do well enough with what money or good thou mayst give us.  Is this according to thy will, or have I spoken rashly?

She said: Ye are good and ungreedy, and I bless you for it; be it as ye will; and this the more, as I were fain that ye go to Utterhay; for whiles I have deemed that I myself am drawn thitherward, wherefore it may be that we shall meet again in that place.

And when she had so spoken, she might not refrain her tears; and the Gerardsons turned away, for they were ashamed, both that they should see her weep, or she them.  But at last she called to them and said: Now make we the speediest end we may of this, for sorry work is the tarrying of farewell; so I pray you, my friends, to go about the work I have bidden you.

So all was done as she would, and the day after the morrow was Birdalone abiding the coming of Gerard and his sons with the horses; and despite of the sundering of friends and the perils that belike lay before her, the world seemed fair to her, and life beginning anew.  And she made no doubt that she would soon be at the Castle of the Quest, and there find all things much as she had left them; and there at least would be the welcome of her dear friend Viridis.

p. 396CHAPTER VI.  OF THE SUNDERING OF BIRDALONE FROM GERARD AND HIS SONS.

Presently were the horses come with Gerard and his sons, and Birdalone gat to horse amongst them.  She was armed in a light hauberk, and over it a long and loose surcoat that came down beneath the knee of her; and a sallet she had upon her head, wide but light, so that not very much of her face was to be seen.  She had made up her mind to this tale upon the road, when she was among folk, that she was under a vow not to do off her helm for a seven days’ space.  Withal she had covered up the lovely shapeliness of her legs with long boots of deer-leather, and her surcoat was wide-sleeved; she was well hidden, and whereas she was a tall and strong woman, she might well pass for a young man, slender and fair-faced.  She was girt with a good sword, and Gerard had gotten her a strong horseman’s bow and a quiver full of arrows, wherewith, as aforesaid, she knew well how to deal; wherefore she was by no means without defence.

So they went their ways through the streets and out-a-gates; and it must be said, that were not Birdalone’s thoughts turned toward the Castle of the Quest, and what she should meet there, her heart had been somewhat sore at leaving the city which had cherished her so well these years past; nay, as it was, the shadow of the southern gate, as she past thereunder, smote somewhat cold upon her, and she silently bade farewell to the City of the Five Crafts with some sorrow, though with no fear.

Forth they rode then through the frank and up on to the shepherd country, and whereas their horses were of the best, and they had no sumpter-beast with them till they came to Upham, where they must needs have victual, they made but five days of it to the place where the road turned aside from the country of Mostwyke.  There then they drew rein, and Birdalone lighted down from her horse, and they all, and they lay upon the grass and ate and drank together.

But when they were done, spake Birdalone and said: Dear friends, this is the hour and the place when we must needs part; for ye shall go back again to Five Crafts, and do what I have bidden of you, and do your will, and wend your ways with your livelihood unto Utterhay.  But as for me, I must go my ways first unto Greenford, and thence to seek my friends from whom erst I was fleeing when ye first became my friends.  Now perchance ye will say that I have taken you up in my need, and cast you aside at my pleasure; but I may only say that there be at present two deals of my life, and of one of them have ye been partakers, and of the other ye may not be.  Forsooth that is a grief unto me, as I suppose unto you is it a greater one.  But unto me also were it heavier but that my heart tells me it shall not ever be so; for as I said to you some days agone, I have a hope that we shall yet meet again, be it in Utterhay or in some other place.  And now I pray you to pardon me wherein I may have done amiss unto you, and begrudge it not that there be others, who indeed were first-comers in regard to you, and whom I love better than you; for of your truth and your good-will and loving-kindness will I bear witness wheresoever I may be.

Then spake Gerard: Do ye speak, my sons; for I have no grudge against her, nor aught to bewail me as to her, save, it may be, that I am now so well on in years that it may well befall that I shall not live till the time of the meeting in Utterhay.  But I will pray thee this, dear lady, that if thou come to the place where I lie dead thou wilt kiss my burial-stone, and sing due masses for me.  Nay, she said, but this is the worst shall betide betwixt us.

Then spake Robert Gerardson: I am not deft of speech, but this parting makes me bold to say this: that from the time when first I set eyes on thee I have loved thee in such wise that never mayst thou love me as much as I love thee, if thou hast anywhere, as I deem thou hast, a lover of thy body, whom thou lovest.  Now I have seen that for a long while thou hast known this, and hast ever because of it been as meek and kind with me as thou mightest be.  And this hath partly grieved me the more, because it hath eked my longing for thee; and yet it hath comforted me the more, because it hath made me deem better of thee, and deem thee worthier of worship and holier; therefore have thou all my blessing for it.  And now I know that thou sunderest from us that thou mayst go seek thy very bodily lover; and I say, that if the sundering had been for any lighter cause, grieved at heart should I have been; but since it is even so, once more I bless thee, and ever shall I be happy in the thought of thee; and if ever we meet again, still shalt thou find me as now I am in heart and in soul.

She turned to him, not dry-eyed, and said: I know that what thou sayest is sooth; and thou hast guessed right as to my goings; and I take thy blessing with love and joy.

Then were they silent; but Giles Gerardson was struggling with words, for he was slow to speech; at last he said: I say much as saith my brother: but see thou, our lady, how ill it had gone if thou hadst loved one of us with an equal love; woe worth the strife then!  But now I will crave this of thee, that thou kiss me on the lips, now whenas we part; and again, that thou wilt do as much when first we meet again hereafter.  And I tell thee right out, that if thou gainsay this, I shall deem it unfriendly in thee, and that those lovely words which thou didst speak e’en now were but words alone, and that thou art not as true as I have deemed thee.

She laughed amidst her tears, and said: Dear lad, doom me not till I have been found guilty!  I shall nowise naysay thee this, for I love thee, and now and ever shalt thou be unto me as a brother, thou and Robert also; for even so have ye done by me.  But thou wottest, dear lad, that whiles and again must sister sunder from brother, and even so it has to be now.

Then they sat silent all four; and thereafter Birdalone arose and did off her sallet, and kissed and embraced Gerard and his sons, and bade them farewell, and she and the young men wept.  Then she armed herself and gat to horse, and went her ways towards Greenford, having nought with her but the raiment and arms that her body bore, and her horse, and some gold pieces and gems in a little pouch.  So rode she; and the others turned back sadly toward the Five Crafts.

p. 401CHAPTER VII.  BIRDALONE COMETH TO GREENFORD, AND HEARS OF THE WASTING OF THE CASTLE OF THE QUEST.

Now came Birdalone riding into Greenford an hour before sunset on a day of the latter end of May; and she had no doubt but to go straight to the hostelry, and that the less as she had not abided there before, as hath been told.  To them that served her she told the tale of her vow, that she might not do off her sallet that seven days; and some trowed her, and some deemed her a woman, but whereas she seemed by her raiment to be of condition none meddled with her.  Moreover, as she told her intent to ride on betimes in the morning, it mattered the less unto them: withal she gave out that she came from foreign parts, as sooth it was.

In the evening she sat in the hall, and with her were three chapmen travelling with their wares, and two good men of the town sitting; and they were talking together, and were courteous and blithe, and amidst their talk they threw many a glance at the slim and fair young squire, as Birdalone seemed, and were fain to speak unto him, but refrained them for courtesy’s sake.  For her part, Birdalone longed sore to ask them somewhat of the Castle of the Quest, but the words clave to her throat for very fear; and she sat restless and ill at ease.  However at last said a townsman to a chapman: Art thou for the Red Hold, Master Peter, when thou art done here?  Birdalone turned very pale at that word; and Master Peter spake: Yea, surely, neighbour, if the folk leave aught in my packs for others to buy.  He spake in a jovial voice, as if he were merry, and the others all laughed together, as though they were well pleased and in good contentment.  And now, deemed Birdalone, would be her time to speak if she would learn aught; so she constrained herself at last, and spake, though in a quavering voice: Meseems then, masters, this good town is thriving as now?  This I ask because I am a stranger in these parts this long while, and now I am come back hither fain were I to find the land in good peace; for I may chance to take up my abode hereby.

The goodmen turned to her and smiled kindly when