Then was it to him as when he met her first in Shadowy Vale, and he thought of little else than her; but she stepped lightly up to him, and unashamed before the whole host she kissed him on the mouth, and he cast his mailed arms about her, and joy made him forget many things and what was next to do, though even at that moment came afresh a great clamour of shrieks and cries from the northern outgate of the Marketstead: and the burning pile behind them cast a great wavering flame into the air, contending with the bright sun of that fair day, now come hard on noontide. But ere he drew away his face from the Sun-beam’s, came memory to him, and a sharp pang shot through his heart, as he heard Folk-might say: “Where then is the Shield-may of Burgstead? where is the Bride?”
And Face-of-god said under his breath: “She is dead, she is dead!” And then he stared out straight before him and waited till someone else should say it aloud. But Bow-may stepped forward and said: “Chief of the Wolf, be of good cheer; our kinswoman is hurt, but not deadly.”
The Alderman’s face changed, and he said: “Hast thou seen her, Bow-may?”
“Nay,” she said. “How should I leave the battle? but others have told me who have seen her.”
Folk-might stared into the ranks of men before him, but said nothing. Said the Alderman: “Is she well tended?”
“Yea, surely,” said Bow-may, “since she is amongst friends, and there are no foemen behind us.”
Then came a voice from Folk-might which said: “Now were it best to send good men and deft in arms, and who know Silverdale, from house to house, to search for foemen who may be lurking there.”
The Alderman looked kindly and sadly on him and said:
“Kinsman Stone-face, and Hall-face my son, the brunt of the battle is now over, and I am but a simple man amongst you; therefore, if ye will give me leave, I will go see this poor kinswoman of ours, and comfort her.”
They bade him go: so he sheathed his sword, and went through the press with two men of the Steer toward the southern road; for the Bride had been brought into a house nigh the corner of the Marketplace.
But Face-of-god looked after his father as he went, and remembrance of past days came upon him, and such a storm of grief swept over him, as he thought of the Bride lying pale and bleeding and brought anigh to her death, that he put his hands to his face and wept as a child that will not be comforted; nor had he any shame of all those bystanders, who in sooth were men good and kindly, and had no shame of his grief or marvelled at it, for indeed their own hearts were sore for their lovely kinswoman, and many of them also wept with Face-of-god. But the Sun-beam stood by and looked on her betrothed, and she thought many things of the Bride, and was sorry, albeit no tears came into her eyes; then she looked askance at Folk-might and trembled; but he said coldly, and in a loud voice:
“Needs must we search the houses for the lurking felons, or many a man will yet be murdered. Let Wood-wicked lead a band of men at once from house to house.”
Then said a man of the Wolf hight Hardgrip: “Wood-wicked was slain betwixt the bent and the houses.”
Said Folk-might: “Let it be Wood-wise then.”
But Bow-may said: “Wood-wise is even now hurt in the leg by a wounded felon, and may not go afoot.”
Then said Folk-might: “Is Crow the Shaft-speeder anigh?”
“Yea, here am I,” quoth a tall man of fifty winters, coming from out the ranks where stood the Wolves.
Said Folk-might: “Kinsman Crow, do thou take two score and ten of doughty men who are not too hotheaded, and search every house about the Marketplace; but if ye come on any house that makes a stout defence, send ye word thereof to the Mote-house, where we will presently be, and we shall send you help. Slay every felon that ye fall in with; but if ye find in the houses any of the poor folk crouching and afraid, comfort their hearts all ye may, and tell them that now is life come to them.”
So Crow fell to getting his band together, and presently departed with them on his errand.
XLVII
The Kindreds Win the Mote-House
The din and tumult still came from the north side of the Marketplace, so that all the air was full of noise; and Face-of-god deemed that the thralls had gotten weapons into their hands and were slaying their masters.
Now he lifted up his face, and put his hand on Folk-might’s shoulder, and said in a loud voice:
“Kinsmen, it were well if our brother were to bid the banners into the Mote-house of the Wolf, and let all the Host set itself in array before the said house, and abide till the chasers of the foe come to us thither; for I perceive that they are now become many, and are more than those of our kindred.”
Then Folk-might looked at him with kind eyes, and said:
“Thou sayest well, brother; even so let it be!”
And he lifted up his sword, and Face-of-god cried out in a loud voice: “Forward, banners! blow up horns! fare we forth with victory!”
So the Host drew its ranks together in good order, and they all set forward, and old Stone-face took the Sun-beam by the hand and led on behind Folk-might and the War-leader. But when they came to the Hall, then saw they how the steps that led up to the door were
