Folk-might was silent, and Hall-ward smiled on him and said:
“Wouldst thou have her tarry, O chief of the Wolf?”
“So it is,” said Folk-might, “that it might be labour lost for her to journey to Burgdale at present.”
“Thinkest thou?” said Hall-ward; “hast thou a mind then that if she goeth she shall speedily come back hither?”
“It has been in my mind,” said Folk-might, “that I should wed her. Wilt thou gainsay it? I pray thee, Iron-face my friend, and ye Stone-face and Hall-face, and thou, Face-of-god, my brother, to lay thy words to mine in this matter.”
Then said Hall-ward stroking his beard: “There will be a seat missing in the Hall of the Steer, and a sore lack in the heart of many a man in Burgdale if the Bride come back to us no more. We looked not to lose the maiden by her wedding; for it is no long way betwixt the House of the Steer and the House of the Face. But now, when I arise in the morning and miss her, I shall take my staff and walk down the street of Burgstead; for I shall say, The Maiden hath gone to see Iron-face my friend; she is well in the House of the Face. And then shall I remember how that the wood and the wastes lie between us. How sayest thou, Alderman?”
“A sore lack it will be,” said Iron-face; “but all good go with her! Though whiles shall I go hatless down Burgstead street, and say, Now will I go fetch my daughter the Bride from the House of the Steer; while many a day’s journey shall lie betwixt us.”
Said Hall-ward: “I will not beat about the bush, Folk-might; what gift wilt thou give us for the maiden?”
Said Folk-might: “Whatever is mine shall be thine; and whatsoever of the Dale the kindred and the poor folk begrudge thee not, that shalt thou have; and deemest thou that they will begrudge thee aught? Is it enough?”
Hall-ward said: “I wot not, chieftain; see thou to it! Bow-may, my friend, bring hither that which I would have from Silverdale for the House of the Steer in payment for our maiden.”
Then Bow-may came forward speedily, and went up to the Sun-beam, and led her by the hand in front of Folk-might and Hall-ward and the other chieftains. Then Folk-might started, and leapt up from the ground; for, sooth to say, he had been thinking so wholly of the Bride, that his sister was not in his mind, and he had had no deeming of whither Hall-ward was coming, though the others guessed well enough, and now smiled on him merrily, when they saw how wild Folk-might stared. As for the Sun-beam, she stood there blushing like a rose in June, but looking her brother straight in the face, as Hall-ward said:
“Folk-might, chief of the Wolf, since thou wouldst take our maiden the Bride away from us, I ask thee to make good her place with this maiden; so that the House of the Steer may not lack, when they who are wont to wed therein come to us and pray us for a bedfellow for the best of their kindred.”
Then became Folk-might smiling and merry like unto the others, and he said: “Chief of the Steer, this gift is thine, together with aught else which thou mayst desire of us.”
Then he kissed the Sun-beam, and said: “Sister, we looked for this to befall in some fashion. Yet we deemed that he that should lead thee away might abide with us for a moon or two. But now let all this be, since if thou art not to bear children to the kindreds of Silverdale, yet shalt thou bear them to their friends and fellows. And now choose what gift thou wilt have of us to keep us in thy memory.”
She said: “The memory of my people shall not fade from me; yet indeed I ask thee for a gift, to wit, Bow-may, and the two sons of Wood-father that are left since Wood-wicked was slain; and belike the elder and his wife will be fain to go with their sons, and ye will not hinder them.”
“Even so shall it be done,” said Folk-might, and he was silent a while, pondering; and then he said:
“Lo you, friends! doth it not seem strange to you that peace sundereth as well as war? Indeed I deem it grievous that ye shall have to miss your well-beloved kinswoman. And for me, I am now grown so used to this woman my sister, though at whiles she hath been masterful with me, that I shall often turn about and think to speak to her, when there lie long days of wood and waste betwixt her voice and mine.”
The Sun-beam laughed in his face, though the tears stood in her eyes, as she said: “Keep up thine heart, brother; for at least the way is shorter betwixt Burgdale and Silverdale than betwixt life and death; and the road we shall learn belike.”
Said Hall-face: “So it is that my brother is no ill woodman, as ye learned last autumn.”
Iron-face smiled, but somewhat sadly; for he beheld Face-of-god, who had no eyes for anyone save the Sun-beam; and no marvel was that, for never had she looked fairer. And forsooth the War-leader was not utterly well-pleased; for he was deeming that there would be delaying of his wedding, now that the Sun-beam was to become a maid of the Steer; and in his mind he half deemed that it would be better if he were to take her by the hand and lead her home through the wildwood, he and she alone; and she looked on him shyly, as though she had a deeming of his thought. Albeit he knew it might not be, that he, the chosen War-leader, should trouble the peace of the kindred; for he wotted that all this was done for peace’ sake.
So Hall-ward stood forth and took the Sun-beam’s right hand in
