But all men looked on the child in her arms and wondered what it was. But Bow-may took the babe, which was both fair and great, and set it on the knees of the Bride, and said:
“Thus saith Face-of-god: ‘Friend and kinswoman, well-beloved playmate, the gift which thou badest of me in sorrow do thou now take in joy, and do all the good thou wouldest to the son of thy friend. The ring which I gave thee once in the garden of the Face, give thou to Bow-may, my trusty and well-beloved, in token of the fulfilment of my behest.’ ”
Then the Bride kissed Bow-may again, and fell to fondling of the child, which was loth to leave Bow-may.
But she spake again: “To thee also, Folk-might, I have a message from Face-of-god, who saith: ‘Mighty warrior, friend and fellow, all things thrive with us, and we are happy. Yet is there a hollow place in our hearts which grieveth us, and only thou and thine may amend it. Though whiles we hear tell of thee, yet we see thee not, and fain were we, might we see thee, and wot if the said tales be true. Wilt thou help us somewhat herein, or wilt thou leave us all the labour? For sure we be that thou wilt not say that thou rememberest us no more, and that thy love for us is departed.’ This is his message, Folk-might, and he would have an answer from thee.”
Then laughed Folk-might and said: “Sister Bow-may, seest thou these weaponed men hereby?”
“Yea,” she said.
Said he: “These men bear a message with them to Face-of-god my brother. Crow the Shaft-speeder, stand forth and tell thy friend Bow-may the message I have set in thy mouth, every word of it.”
Then Crow stood forth and greeted Bow-may friendly, and said: “Friend Bow-may, this is the message of our Alderman: ‘Friend and helper, in the Dale which thou hast given to us do all things thrive; neither are we grown old in three years’ wearing, nor are our memories worsened. We long sore to see you and give you guesting in Silverdale, and one day that shall befall. Meanwhile, know this: that we of the Wolf and the Woodland, mindful of the earth that bore us, and the pit whence we were digged, have a mind to go see Shadowy Vale once in every three years, and there to hold high-tide in the ancient Hall of the Wolf, and sit in the Doom-ring of our Fathers. But since ye have joined yourselves to us in battle, and have given us this Dale, our health and wealth, without price and without reward, we deem you our very brethren, and small shall be our hall-glee, and barren shall our Doom-ring seem to us, unless ye sit there beside us. Come then, that we may rejoice each other by the sight of face and sound of voice; that we may speak together of matters that concern our welfare; so that we three Kindreds may become one Folk. And if this seem good to you, know that we shall be in Shadowy Vale in a half-month’s wearing. Grieve us not by forbearing to come.’ Lo, Bow-may, this is the message, and I have learned it well, for well it pleaseth me to bear it.”
Then said Folk-might: “What say’st thou to the message, Bow-may?”
“It is good in all ways,” said she, “but is it timely? May our folk have the message and get to Shadowy Vale, so as to meet you there?”
“Yea surely,” said Folk-might, “for our kinsmen here shall take the road through Shadowy Vale, and in four days’ time they shall be in Burgdale, and as thou wottest, it is scant a two days’ journey thence to Shadowy Vale.”
Therewith he turned to those men again, and said: “Kinsman Crow, depart now, and use all diligence with thy message.”
So the messengers began to stir; but Bow-may cried out: “Ho! Folk-might, my friend, I perceive thou art little changed from the man I knew in Shadowy Vale, who would have his dinner before the fowl were plucked. For shall I not go back with these thy messengers, so that I also may get all ready to wend to the Mote-house of Shadowy Vale?”
But the Bride looked kindly on her, and laughed and said: “Sister Bow-may, his meaning is that thou shouldest abide here in Silverdale till we depart for the Folk-thing, and then go thither with us; and this I also pray thee to do, that thou mayst rejoice the hearts of thine old friends; and also that thou mayst teach me all that I should know concerning this fair child of my brother and my sister.”
And she looked on her so kindly as she caressed the babe, that Bow-may’s heart melted, and she cried out:
“Would that I might never depart from the house wherein thou dwellest, O Bride of my Kinsman! And this that thou biddest me is easy and pleasant for me to do. But afterwards I must get me back to Burgdale; for I seem to have left much there that calleth for me.”
“Yea,” said Folk-might, “and art thou wedded, Bow-may? Shalt thou never bend the yew in battle again?”
Said Bow-may soberly: “Who knoweth, chieftain? Yea, I am wedded now these two years; and nought I looked for less when I followed those twain through the wildwood to Burgdale.”
She sighed therewith, and said: “In all the Dale there is no better man of his hands than my man, nor any goodlier to look on, and he is even that Hart of Highcliff whom thou knowest well, O Bride!”
Said the Bride: “Thou sayest sooth, there is no better man in the Dale.”
Said Bow-may: “Sun-beam bade me wed him when he pressed hard upon me.” She stayed awhile, and then said: “Face-of-god also deemed I should not naysay the man; and now my son by him is of like age to
