The Well at the World's End: A TaleMorris, William
Science
The Well at the World's End: A Tale
Morris, William
Fantasy fiction; Quests (Expeditions) -- Fiction
"But now he fell on his knees before me not like a vassal but like a
lover, and kissed my feet, and was beside himself for joy. And his
sons, who were men of some forty summers, tall and warrior-like, kissed
my hands and made obeisance before me.
"Now when we had come to ourselves again, old Geoffrey, who was now
naught but glad, spake and said: 'It is told amongst us that when our
host departed from the Land of the Tower, after thou hadst taken thy
due seat upon the throne, that thou didst promise our chieftains how
thou wouldst one day come back to the fellowship of the Dry Tree and
dwell amongst us. Wilt thou now hold to thy promise?' I said: 'O
Geoffrey, if thou art the last of those seekers, and thou wert but a
boy when I dwelt with you of old, who of the Dry Tree is left to
remember me?' He hung his head awhile then, and spake: 'Old are we
grown, yet art thou fittest to be amongst young folk: unless mine eyes
are beguiled by some semblance which will pass away presently.' 'Nay,'
quoth I, 'it is not so; as I am now, so shall I be for many and many a
day.' 'Well,' said Geoffrey, 'wherever thou mayst be, thou shalt be
Queen of men.'
"'I list not to be Queen again,' said I. He laughed and said: 'I wot
not how thou mayst help it.'
"I said: 'Tell me of the Dry Tree, how the champions have sped, and
have they grown greater or less.' Said he: 'They are warriors and
champions from father to son; therefore have they thriven not over
well; yet they have left the thick of the wood, and built them a great
castle above the little town hight Hampton; so that is now called
Hampton under Scaur, for upon the height of the said Scaur is our
castle builded: and there we hold us against the Burg of the Four
Friths which hath thriven greatly; there is none so great as the Burg
in all the lands about.'
"I said: 'And the Land of the Tower, thriveth the folk thereof at
all?' 'Nay,' he said, 'they have been rent to pieces by folly and war
and greediness: in the Great City are but few people, grass grows in
its streets; the merchants wend not the ways that lead thither. Naught
thriveth there since thou stolest thyself away from them.'
"'Nay,' I said, 'I fled from their malice, lest I should have been
brought out to be burned once more; and there would have been none to
rescue then.' 'Was it so?' said old Geoffrey; 'well it is all one now;
their day is done.'
"'Well,' I said, 'come into my house, and eat and drink therein and
sleep here to-night, and to-morrow I shall tell thee what I will do.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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