The Roots of the Mountains<br />Wherein Is Told Somewhat of the Lives of the Men of Burgdale, Their, William Morris [best motivational books txt] 📗

was crowded with the fury of the Dusky Men tossing their weapons aloft, crying to each other and at the kindred, and here and there loosing a bow-string on them; but whatever was their rage they might not come a many together past a line within ten fathom of the bent’s end; for three hundred of the best of bowmen were shooting at them so ceaselessly that no Dusky man was safe of any bare place of his body, and they fell over one another in that penfold of slaughter, and for all their madness did but little.

Yet was the heart of the War-leader troubled; for he wotted that it might not last for ever, and there seemed no end to the throng of murder-carles; and the time would come when the arrowshot would be spent, and they must needs come to handy strokes, and that with so many.

p. 344Now a voice spake to him as he gazed with knitted brows and careful heart on that turmoil of battle:

‘What now hast thou done with the Sun-beam, and where is her brother?  Is the Chief of the Wolf skulking when our work is so heavy?  And thou meseemeth art overlate on the field: the mowing of this meadow is no sluggard’s work.’

He turned and beheld Bow-may, and gazed on her face for a moment, and saw her eyes how they glittered, and how the pommels of her cheeks were burning red and her lips dry and grey; but before he answered he looked all round about to see what was to note; and he touched Bow-may on the shoulder and pointed to down below where a man of the Felons had just come out of the court of one of the houses: a man taller than most, very gaily arrayed, with gilded scales all over him, so that, with his dark face and blue eyes, he looked like some strange dragon.  Bow-may spake not, but stamped her foot with anger.  Yet if her heart were hot, her hand was steady; for she notched a shaft, and just as the Dusky Chief raised his axe and brandished it aloft, she loosed, and the shaft flew and smote the felon in the armpit and the default of the armour, and he fell to earth.  But even as she loosed, Face-of-god cried out in a loud voice:

‘O lads of battle! shoot close and all together.  Tarry not, tarry not! for we need a little time ere sword meets sword, and the others of the kindreds are at work!’

But Bow-may turned round to him and said: ‘Wilt thou not answer me?  Where is thy kindness gone?’

Even as she was speaking she had notched and loosed another shaft, speaking as folk do who turn from busy work at loom or bench.

Then said Face-of-god: ‘Shoot on, sister Bow-may!  The Sun-beam is gone with her brother, and he is with the Men of the Face.’

He broke off here, for a man fell beside him hurt in the neck, and Face-of-god took his bow from his hands and shot a shaft, p. 345while one of the women who had been hurt also tended the newly-wounded man.  Then Face-of-god went on speaking:

‘She was unwilling to go, but Folk-might and I constrained her; for we knew that this is the most perilous place of the battle—hah! see those three felons, Bow-may! they are aiming hither.’

And again he loosed and Bow-may also, but a shaft rattled on his helm withal and another smote a Woodlander beside him, and pierced through the calf of his leg, as he turned and stooped to take fresh arrows from a sheaf that lay there; but the carle took it by the notch and the point, and brake it and drew it out, and then stood up and went on shooting.  And Face-of-god spake again:

‘Folk-might skulketh not; nor the Men of the Vine, and the Sickle, and the Face, nor the Shepherd-Folk: soon shall they be making our work easy to us, if we can hold our own till then.  They are on the other roads that lead into the square.  Now suffer me, and shoot on!’

Therewith he looked round about him, and he saw on the left hand that all was quiet; and before him was the confused throng of the Dusky Men trampling their own dead and wounded, and not able as yet to cross that death-line of the arrow so near to them.  But on his right hand he saw how they of the kindreds held them firm on the way.  Then for a moment of time he considered and thought, till him-seemed he could see the whole battle yet to be foughten; and his face flushed, and he said sharply: ‘Bow-may, abide here and shoot, and show the others where to shoot, while the arrows hold out; but we will go further for a while, and ye shall follow when we have made the rent great enough.’

She turned to him and said: ‘Why art thou not more joyous? thou art like an host without music or banners.’

‘Nay,’ said he, ‘heed not me, but my bidding!’

She said hastily: ‘I think I shall die here; since for all we have shot we minish them nowise.  Now kiss me this once amidst the battle, and say farewell.’

p. 346He said: ‘Nay, nay; it shall not go thus.  Abide a little while, and thou shalt see all this tangle open, as the sun cleaveth the clouds on the autumn morning.  Yet lo thou! since thou wilt have it so.’

And he bent forward and kissed her face, and now the tears ran over it, and she said smiling somewhat: ‘Now is this more than I looked for, whatso may betide.’

But while she was yet speaking he cried in a great voice:

‘Ye who have spent your shot, or have nigh spent it, to axe and sword, and follow me to clear the ground ’twixt the bent and the halls.  Let each help each, but throng not each other.  Shoot wisely, ye bowmen, and keep our backs clear of the foe.  On, on! for the Burg and the Face, for the Burg and the Face!’

Therewith he leapt down the steep of the hill, bounding like the hart, with Dale-warden naked in his hand; and they that followed were two score and ten; and the arrows of their bowmen rained over their heads on the Dusky Men, as they smote down the first of the foemen, and the others shrieked and shrank from them, or turned on them smiting wildly and desperately.

But Face-of-god swept round the great sword and plunged into that sea of turmoil and noise and evil sights and savours, and even therewith he heard clearly a voice that said: ‘Goldring, I am hurt; take my bow a while!’ and knew it for Bow-may’s; but it came to his ears like the song of a bird without meaning; for it was as if his life were changed at once; and in a minute or two he had cut thrice with the edge and thrust twice with the point, eager, but clear-eyed and deft; and he saw as in a picture the foe before him, and the grey roofs of Silver-stead, and through the gap in them the tops of the blue ridges far aloof.  And now had three fallen before him, and they feared him, and turned on him, and smote so many together that their strokes crossed each other, and one warded him from the other; and he laughed aloud and shielded himself, and drave the point of Dale-warden amidst the tangle of weapons through the open p. 347mouth of a captain of the Felons, and slashed a cheek with a back-stroke, and swept round the edge to his right hand and smote off a blue-eyed snub-nosed head; and therewith a pole-axe smote him on the left side of his helm, so that he tottered; but he swung himself round, and stood stark and upright, and gave a short hack with the edge, keeping Dale-warden well in hand, and a gold-clad felon, a champion of them, and their tallest on the ground, fell aback, his throat gaping more than the mouth of him.

Then Face-of-god shouted and waved Dale-warden aloft to the Banner of the Wolf that floated behind and above him, and he cried out: ‘As I have promised so have I done!’  And he looked about, and beheld how valiantly his fellows had been doing; for before him now was a space of earth with no man standing on his feet thereon, like the swathe of the mowers of June; and beyond that was the crowd of the Dusky Men wavering like the tall grass abiding the scythe.

But a minute, and they fell to casting at Face-of-god and his fellows spears and knives and shields and whatsoever would fly; and a spear smote him on the breast, but entered not; and a bossed shield fell over his face withal, and a plummet of sling-lead smote his helm, and he fell to earth; but leapt up again straightway, and heard as he arose a great shout close to him, and a shrill cry, and lo! at his left side Bow-may, her sword in her hand, and the hand red with blood from a shaft-graze on her wrist, and a white cloth stained with blood about her neck; and on his right side Wood-wise bearing the banner and crying the Wolf-whoop; for the whole company was come down from the slope and stood around him.

Then for a little while was there such a stilling of the tumult about him there, that he heard great and glad cries from the Road of the South of ‘The Burg and the Steer!  The Dale and the Bridge!  The Dale and the Bull!’  And thereafter a terrible great shrieking cry, and a huge voice that cried: ‘Death, p. 348death, death to the Dusky Men!’  And thereafter again fierce cries and great tumult of the battle.

Then Face-of-god shook Dale-warden in the air, and strode forward fiercely, but not speedily, and the whole company went foot for foot along with him; and as he went, would he or would he not, song came into his mouth, a song of the meadows of the Dale, even such as this:

The wheat is done blooming and rust’s on the sickle,
   And green are the meadows grown after the scythe.
Come, hands for the dance!  For the toil hath been mickle,
   And ’twixt haysel and harvest ’tis time to be blithe.

And what shall the tale be now dancing is over,
   And kind on the meadow sits maiden by man,
And the old man bethinks him of days of the lover,
   And the warrior remembers the field that he wan?

Shall we tell of the dear days wherein we are dwelling,
   The best days of our Mother, the cherishing Dale,
When all round about us the summer is telling,
   To ears that may hearken, the heart of the tale?

Shall we sing of these hands and these lips that caress us,
   And the limbs that sun-dappled lie light here beside,
When still in the morning they rise but to bless us,
   And oft in the midnight our footsteps abide?

O nay, but to tell of the fathers were better,
   And of how we were fashioned from out of the earth;
Of how the once lowly spurned strong at the fetter;
   Of the days of the deeds and beginning of mirth.

And then when the feast-tide is done in the morning,
   Shall we whet the grey sickle that bideth the wheat,
p. 349Till wan grow the edges, and gleam forth a warning
   Of the field and the fallow where edges shall meet.

And when cometh the harvest, and hook upon shoulder
   We enter the red wheat from out of the road,
We shall sing, as we wend, of the bold and the bolder,
   And the Burg of their building, the beauteous abode.

As smiteth the sickle amid the sun’s burning
   We shall sing how the sun saw the token unfurled,
When forth fared the Folk, with no thought of returning,
   In the days when the Banner went wide in the world.

Many saw that he was singing, but heard not the words of his mouth, for great was the noise and clamour.  But he heard Bow-may, how she laughed by his side, and cried out:

‘Gold-mane, dear-heart, now art thou merry indeed; and glad am I, though they told me that I am hurt.—Ah! now beware, beware!’

For indeed the Dusky Men, seeing the wall of steel rolling down on them, and cooped up by the houses, so that they scarce knew how to flee, turned in the face of death, the foremost of them, and rushed furiously on the array of the Woodlanders, and all those behind pressed on them like the big wave of