The House of the Wolfings: A Tale of the House of the Wolfings and All the Kindreds of the Mark Written in Prose and in VerseMorris, William
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The House of the Wolfings: A Tale of the House of the Wolfings and All the Kindreds of the Mark Written in Prose and in Verse
Morris, William
Fantasy fiction
Then rose the rumour loud and angry mingled with the rattle of swords and
the clash of spears on shields; but Fox said:
"Needs must ye follow one of these three ways. Nay, what say I? there
are but two ways and not three; for if ye flee they shall follow you to
the confines of the earth. Either these Welsh shall take all, and our
lives to boot, or we shall hold to all that is ours, and live merrily.
The sword doometh; and in three days it may be the courts shall be
hallowed: small is the space between us."
Therewith he also got him down from the Hill, and joined his own house:
and men said that he had spoken well and wisely. But there arose a noise
of men talking together on these tidings; and amidst it an old warrior of
the Nether-mark strode forth and up to the Hill-top. Gaunt and stark he
was to look on; and all men knew him and he was well-beloved, so all held
their peace as he said:
"I am Otter of the Laxings: now needeth but few words till the War-duke
is chosen, and we get ready to wend our ways in arms. Here have ye heard
three good men and true tell of our foes, and this last, Fox the Red,
hath seen them and hath more to tell when we are on the way; nor is the
way hard to find. It were scarce well to fall upon these men in their
garth and war-burg; for hard is a wall to slay. Better it were to meet
them in the Wild-wood, which may well be a friend to us and a wall, but
to them a net. O Agni of the Daylings, thou warder of the Thing-stead,
bid men choose a War-duke if none gainsay it."
And without more words he clattered down the Hill, and went and stood
with the Laxing band. But the old Dayling arose and blew the horn, and
there was at once a great silence, amidst which he said:
"Children of Slains-father, doth the Folk go to the war?"
There was no voice but shouted "yea," and the white swords sprang aloft,
and the westering sun swept along a half of them as they tossed to and
fro, and the others showed dead-white and fireless against the dark wood.
Then again spake Agni:
"Will ye choose the War-duke now and once, or shall it be in a while,
after others have spoken?"
And the voice of the Folk went up, "Choose! Choose!"
Said Agni: "Sayeth any aught against it?" But no voice of a gainsayer
was heard, and Agni said:
"Children of Tyr, what man will ye have for a leader and a duke of war?"
Then a great shout sprang up from amidst the swords: "We will have
Thiodolf; Thiodolf the Wolfing!"
Said Agni: "I hear no other name; are ye of one mind? hath any aught to
say against it? If that be so, let him speak now, and not forbear to
follow in the wheatfield of the spears. Speak, ye that will not follow
Thiodolf!"
No voice gainsaid him: then said the Dayling: "Come forth thou War-duke
of the Markmen! take up the gold ring from the horns of the altar, set it
on thine arm and come up hither!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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