Now he, as Antony, was girt with a short sword, but he let it be in its
sheath; and as they went, Antony drew his blade again, and hove it up
to smite Otter, but as it befell Birdalone saw him, and turned round
sharp upon him and gat hold of his wrist, and therewith Otter turned
also, and caught the old carle by the nape as he turned away, and put a
foot before his and shoved mightily, so that he went noseling to the
earth.
Then turned Otter about again, laughing, and he said to Birdalone: By
Saint Giles! thou art well-nigh too valiant for a woman, and I would
that we two might be together; and then between us we might achieve the
adventure of the dead ladies up yonder. She hung her head, and said:
Fair sir, it may not anywise be; yet I thank thee, I thank thee.
So came they to the water-side and the Sending Boat, and Birdalone
stayed her feet there, and the young man said: What is this keel, that
seemeth unto me as if it were a ferry for malefactors wending to a
death of torment, so grey and bleared and water-logged and sun-bleached
as it is, and smeared over with stains of I know not what?
Said Birdalone: Such as it is, it is my ferry over the water to where I
would be. Strange! said Otter; to my mind it is like to our fortunes on
this isle, we who were once knights and merry squires and are now as
gangrel men, and of ill conditions, thinking of nought save our first
desires, even those which we share with the wolf and the kite.
She said: But art thou of evil conditions, thou who hast just delivered
me from trouble? He smiled grimly: Damsel, said he, I have not
delivered thee yet from me, though I have from him. But tell me, art
thou a sorceress? Not a black one, said Birdalone; but I will tell thee
at once that I have been bred by a witch most mighty, and some deal of
lore have I learned. And therewith she told him of the Sending Boat,
and how she would have to speed it on the way.
He looked on her a little and then turned away, and saw her sword lying
on the grass; so he went to it and picked it up and brought it to her,
and said: Thou mayst yet need this keen friend. So she took it and
thrust it back into the scabbard, quaking somewhat because of him; so
feeble and frail as she felt before him. Then he said: If thou deemest
thou hast somewhat to reward me for, I have a boon to ask of thee, and
granting that, we shall be quits again. Yea, she said faintly, and what
is the boon? He said: Art thou pressed to depart now, this minute? Nay,
said Birdalone, not for an hour if there be no peril here from other
men, and . . . and . . . And if I be true to thee and will let thee go?
said he, laughing; hah! is that not thy word? fear not, I swear by
thine eyes that thou shalt depart whenso thou wilt. Now then, the boon
I crave is, that thou wilt sit down here beside me and tell me the tale
of thy life that has been. Said she: It wearies me to think thereof;
yet hast thou a right to crave somewhat of me, and this is not hard to
grant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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