Stark and mighty men they looked; tall and lean, broad-shouldered, dark-faced. As they came amongst the throng the voice of their horn died out, and for a few moments they fared on with no sound save the tramp of their feet; then all at once the man who bare the hidden banner lifted up one hand, and straightway they fell to singing, and with that song they came to their place. And this is some of what they sang:
O white, white Sun, what things of wonder
Hast thou beheld from thy wall of the sky!
All the Roofs of the Rich and the grief thereunder,
As the fear of the Earl-folk flitteth by!Thou hast seen the Flame steal forth from the Forest
To slay the slumber of the lands,
As the Dusky Lord whom thou abhorrest
Clomb up to thy Burg unbuilt with hands.Thou lookest down from thy door the golden,
Nor batest thy wide-shining mirth,
As the ramparts fall, and the rooftrees olden
Lie smouldering low on the burning earth.When flitteth the half-dark night of summer
From the face of the murder great and grim,
’Tis thou thyself and no newcomer
Shines golden-bright on the deed undim.Art thou our friend, O Day-dawn’s Lover?
Full oft thine hand hath sent aslant
Bright beams athwart the Wood-bear’s cover,
Where the feeble folk and the nameless haunt.Thou hast seen us quail, thou hast seen us cower,
Thou hast seen us crouch in the Green Abode,
While for us wert thou slaying slow hour by hour,
And smoothing down the war-rough road.Yea, the rocks of the Waste were thy Dawns upheaving,
To let the days of the years go through;
And thy Noons the tangled brake were cleaving
The slow-foot seasons’ deed to do.Then gaze adown on this gift of our giving,
For the Wolf comes wending frith and ford,
And the Folk fares forth from the dead to the living,
For the love of the Lief by the light of the Sword.
Then ceased the song, and the whole band of the Woodlanders came pouring tumultuously into the space allotted them, like the waters pouring over a river-dam, their white swords waving aloft in the morning sunlight; and wild and strange cries rose up from amidst them, with sobbing and weeping of joy. But soon their troubled front sank back into ordered ranks, their bright blades stood upright in their hands before them, and folk looked on their company, and deemed it the very Terror of battle and Render of the ranks of war. Right well were they armed; for though many of their weapons were ancient and somewhat worn, yet were they the work of good smiths of old days; and moreover, if any of them lacked good war-gear of his own, that had the Alderman and his sons made good to them.
But before the hedge of steel stood the two tall men who held in their hands the war-tokens of the Battle-shaft and the War-spear, and betwixt them stood one who was indeed the tallest man of the whole assembly, who held the great staff of the hidden banner. And now he reached up his hand, and plucked at the yarn that bound it, which of set purpose was but feeble, and tore it off, and then shook the staff aloft with both hands, and shouted, and lo! the Banner of the Wolf with the Sun-burst behind him, glittering-bright, new-woven by the women of the kindred, ran out in the fresh wind, and flapped and rippled before His warriors there assembled.
Then from all over the Motestead arose an exceeding great shout, and all men waved aloft their weapons; but the men of Shadowy Vale who were standing amidst the men of the Face knew not how to demean themselves, and some of them ran forth into the Field and leapt for joy, tossing their swords into the air, and catching them by the hilts as they fell: and amidst it all the Woodlanders now stood silent, unmoving, as men abiding the word of onset.
As for that brother and sister: the Sun-beam flushed red all over her face, and pressed her hands to her bosom, and then the passion of tears overmastered her, and her breast heaved, and the tears gushed out of her eyes, and her body was shaken with weeping. But Folk-might sat still, looking straight before him, his eyes glittering, his teeth set, his right hand clutching hard at the hilts of his sword, which lay naked across his knees. And the Bride, who stood clad in her begemmed and glittering war-array in the forefront of the Men of the Steer, nigh unto the seats of the chieftains, beheld Folk-might, and her face flushed and brightened, and still she looked upon him. The Alderman’s face was as of one pleased and proud; yet was its joy shadowed as it were by a cloud of compassion. Face-of-god sat like the very image of the War-god, and stirred not, nor looked toward the Sun-beam; for still the thought of the after-grief of battle, and the death of friends and folk that loved him, lay heavy on his heart, for all that it beat wildly at the shouting of the men.
XXXVIII
Of the Great Folk-Mote: Atonements Given, and Men Made Sackless
Amidst the clamour uprose the Alderman; for it was clear to all men that the Folk-mote should be holden at once, and the matters of the War, and the Fellowship, and the choosing of the War-leader, speedily dealt with. So the Alderman fell to hallowing in the Folk-mote: he went up to the Altar of the Gods, and took the Gold-ring off it, and did it on his arm; then he drew his sword and waved it toward the four airts, and spake; and the noise and shouting fell, and there was silence but for him:
“Herewith I hallow in this Folk-mote of the Men of the Dale and the Sheepcotes and the Woodland, in the name of the Warrior
