The Roots of the Mountains: Wherein Is Told Somewhat of the Lives of the Men of Burgdale, Their Friends, Their Neighbours, Their Foemen, and Their Fellows in ArmsMorris, William
Science
The Roots of the Mountains: Wherein Is Told Somewhat of the Lives of the Men of Burgdale, Their Friends, Their Neighbours, Their Foemen, and Their Fellows in Arms
Morris, William
Fantasy fiction
IT must be told that those footprints which Face-of-god and the Sun-beam
had blessed betwixt jest and earnest had more to do with them than they
wotted of. For Folk-might, who had had many thoughts and longings since
he had seen the Bride again, rose up early about sunrise, and went
out-a-doors, and wandered about the Burg, letting his eyes stray over the
goodly stone houses and their trim gardens, yet noting them little, since
the Bride was not there.
At last he came to where there was an open place, straight-sided, longer
than it was wide, with a wall on each side of it, over which showed the
blossomed boughs of pear and cherry and plum-trees: on either hand before
the wall was a row of great lindens, now showing their first tender
green, especially on their lower twigs, where they were sheltered by the
wall. At the nether end of this place Folk-might saw a grey stone house,
and he went towards it betwixt the lindens, for it seemed right great,
and presently was but a score of paces from its door, and as yet there
was no man, carle or queen, stirring about it.
It was a long low house with a very steep roof; but belike the hall was
built over some undercroft, for many steps went up to the door on either
hand; and the doorway was low, with a straight lintel under its arch.
This house, like the House of the Face, seemed ancient and somewhat
strange, and Folk-might could not choose but take note of it. The front
was all of good ashlar work, but it was carven all over, without heed
being paid to the joints of the stones, into one picture of a flowery
meadow, with tall trees and bushes in it, and fowl perched in the trees
and running through the grass, and sheep and kine and oxen and horses
feeding down the meadow; and over the door at the top of the stair was
wrought a great steer bigger than all the other neat, whose head was
turned toward the sun-rising and uplifted with open mouth, as though he
were lowing aloud. Exceeding fair seemed that house to Folk-might, and
as though it were the dwelling of some great kindred.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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