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
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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
Then after a while he ceased his weeping, and looked about him lest
anyone might be coming, and then he arose and went to and fro in the
chestnut-grove for a good while, and afterwards went his ways from that
meadow, saying to himself: ‘Yet remaineth to me the morrow of to-morrow,
and that is the first of the days of the watching for the token.’
But all that day he was slow to meet the eyes of men; and in the hall
that eve he was silent and moody; for from time to time it came over him
that some of his manhood had departed from him.
CHAPTER XVII. THE TOKEN COMETH FROM THE MOUNTAIN.
THE next day wore away tidingless; and the day after Face-of-god arose
betimes; for it was the first day of his watch, and he was at the Maiden
Ward before the time appointed on a very fair and bright morning, and he
went to and fro on that place, and had no tidings. So he came away
somewhat cast down, and said within himself: ‘Is it but a lie and a
mocking when all is said?’
On the morrow he went thither again, and the morn was wild and stormy
with drift of rain, and low clouds hurrying over the earth, though for
the sunrise they lifted a little in the east, and the sun came up over
the passes, amidst the red and angry rack of clouds. This morn also gave
him no tidings of the token, and he was wroth and perturbed in spirit:
but towards evening he said:
‘It is well: ten days she gave me, so that she might be able to send
without fail on one of them; she will not fail me.’
So again on the morrow he was there betimes, and the morn was windy as on
the day before, but the clouds higher and of better promise for the day.
Face-of-god walked to and fro on the Maiden Ward, and as he turned toward
Burgstead for the tenth time, he heard, as he deemed, a bow-string twang
afar off, and even therewith came a shaft flying heavily like a winged
bird, which smote a great standing stone on the other side of the way,
where of old some chieftain had been buried, and fell to earth at its
foot. He went up to it and handled it, and saw that there was a piece of
thin parchment wrapped about it, which indeed he was eager to unwrap at
once, but forebore; because he was on the highway, and people were
already astir, and even then passed by him a goodman of the Dale with a
man of his going afield together, and they gave him the sele of the day.
So he went along the highway a little till he came to a place where was a
footbridge over into the meadow. He crossed thereby and went swiftly
till he reached a rising ground grown over with hazel-trees; there he sat
down among the rabbit-holes, the primrose and wild-garlic blooming about
him, and three blackbirds answering one another from the edges of the
coppice. Straightway when he had looked and seen none coming he broke
the threads that were wound about the scroll and the arrow, and unrolled
the parchment; and there was writing thereon in black ink of small
letters, but very fair, and this is what he read therein:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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