The King of Elfland’s Daughter, Lord Dunsany [free books to read .txt] 📗
- Author: Lord Dunsany
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And it was well enough for the farmer that his dog has chased that troll from his farm; for had it communicated to his livestock any of the wonder of Elfland they would have mocked at Man, and that farmer would have lost the allegiance of all but his staunch dog.
And the troll went on gaily over the tips of the buttercups.
Presently he saw rising up all white over the flowers a fox that was facing him with his white chest and chin, and watching the troll as it went. The troll went near to him and took a look. And the fox went on watching him, for the fox watches all things.
He had come back lately to those dewy fields from slinking by night along the boundary of twilight that lies between here and Elfland. He even prowls inside the very boundary, walking amongst the twilight; and it is in the mystery of that heavy twilight that lies between here and there that there clings to him some of that glamour that he brings with him to our fields.
“Well, Noman’s Dog,” said the troll. For they know the fox in Elfland, from seeing him often go dimly along their borders; and this is the name they give him.
“Well, Thing-over-the-Border,” said the fox when he answered at all. For he knew troll-talk.
“Are the haunts of men near here?” said the troll.
The fox moved his whiskers by slightly wrinkling his lip. Like all liars he reflected before he spoke, and sometimes even let wise silences do better than speech.
“Men live here and men live there,” said the fox.
“I want their haunts,” said the troll.
“What for?” said the fox.
“I have a message from the King of Elfland.”
The fox showed no respect or fear at the mention of that dread name, but slightly moved his head and eyes to conceal the awe that he felt.
“If it is a message,” he said, “their haunts are over there.” And he pointed with his long thin nose towards Erl.
“How shall I know when I get there?” said the troll.
“By the smell,” said the fox. “It is a big haunt of men, and the smell is dreadful.”
“Thanks, Noman’s Dog,” said the troll. And he seldom thanked anyone.
“I should never go near them,” said the fox, “but for …” And he paused and reflected silently.
“But for what?” said the troll.
“But for their poultry.” And he fell into a grave silence.
“Goodbye, Noman’s Dog,” said the troll and turned head-over-heels, and was off on his way to Erl.
Passing over the buttercups all through the dewy morning the troll was far on his way by the afternoon, and saw before evening the smoke and the towers of Erl. It was all sunk in a hollow; and gables and chimneys and towers peered over the lip of the valley, and smoke hung over them on the dreamy air. “The haunts of men,” said the troll. Then he sat down amongst the grasses and looked at it.
Presently he went nearer and looked at it again. He did not like the look of the smoke and that crowd of gables: certainly it smelt dreadfully. There had been some legend in Elfland of the wisdom of Man; and whatever respect that legend had gained for us in the light mind of the troll now all blew lightly away as he looked at the crowded houses. And as he looked at them there passed a child of four, a small girl on a footpath over the fields, going home in the evening to Erl. They looked at each other with round eyes.
“Hullo,” said the child.
“Hullo, Child of Men,” said the troll.
He was not speaking troll-talk now, but the language of Elfland, that grander tongue that he had had to speak when he was before the King: for he knew the language of Elfland although it was never used in the homes of the trolls, who preferred troll-talk. This language was spoken in those days also by men, for there were fewer languages then, and the elves and the people of Erl both used the same.
“What are you?” said the child.
“A troll of Elfland,” answered the troll.
“So I thought,” said the child.
“Where are you going, child of men?” the troll asked.
“To the houses,” the child replied.
“We don’t want to go there,” said the troll.
“N-no,” said
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