The House of the Wolfings [66]
save for the Galtings the houses on the east side of the water between the Bearings and the wild-wood road were but small; for the thicket came somewhat near to the water and pinched the meadows. But the Galtings were great hunters and trackers of the wild-wood, and they of the Geddings, the Erings and the Withings, which were smaller Houses, lived somewhat on the take of fish from Mirkwood-water (as did the Laxings also of the Nether-mark), for thereabout were there goodly pools and eddies, and sun-warmed shallows therewithal for the spawning of the trouts; as there were eyots in the water, most of which tailed off into a gravelly shallow at their lower ends.
Now as the riders of the Goths came over against the dwellings of the Withings, they saw people, mostly women, driving up the beasts from the meadow towards the garth; but upon the tofts about their dwellings were gathered many folk, who had their eyes turned toward the token of ravage that hung in the sky above the fair plain; but when these beheld the riding of the host, they tossed up their arms to them and whatever they bore in them, and the sound of their shrill cry (for they were all women and young lads) came down the wind to the ears of the riders. But down by the river on a swell of the ground were some swains and a few thralls, and among them some men armed and a-horseback; and these, when they perceived the host coming on turned and rode to meet them; and as they drew near they shouted as men overjoyed to meet their kindred; and indeed the fighting-men of their own House were riding in the host. And the armed men were three old men, and one very old with marvellous long white hair, and four long lads of some fifteen winters, and four stout carles of the thralls bearing bows and bucklers, and these rode behind the swains; so they found their own kindred and rode amongst them.
But when they were all jingling and clashing on together, the dust arising from the sun-dried turf, the earth shaking with the thunder of the horse-hoofs, then the heart of the long-hoary one stirred within him as he bethought him of the days of his youth, and to his old nostrils came the smell of the horses and the savour of the sweat of warriors riding close together knee to knee adown the meadow. So he lifted up his voice and sang:
"Rideth lovely along The strong by the strong; Soft under his breath Singeth sword in the sheath, And shield babbleth oft Unto helm-crest aloft; How soon shall their words rise mid wrath of the battle Into wrangle unheeded of clanging and rattle, And no man shall note then the gold on the sword When the runes have no meaning, the mouth-cry no word, When all mingled together, the war-sea of men Shall toss up the steel-spray round fourscore and ten.
"Now as maids burn the weed Betwixt acre and mead, So the Bearings' Roof Burneth little aloof, And red gloweth the hall Betwixt wall and fair wall, Where often the mead-sea we sipped in old days, When our feet were a-weary with wending the ways; When the love of the lovely at even was born, And our hands felt fair hands as they fell on the horn. There round about standeth the ring of the foe Tossing babes on their spears like the weeds o'er the low.
"Ride, ride then! nor spare The red steeds as ye fare! Yet if daylight shall fail, By the fire-light of bale Shall we see the bleared eyes Of the war-learned, the wise. In the acre of battle the work is to win, Let us live by the labour, sheaf-smiting therein; And as oft o'er the sickle we sang in time past When the crake that long mocked us fled light at the last, So sing o'er the sword, and the sword-hardened hand Bearing down to the reaping the wrath of the land."
So he sang; and a great shout went up from his kindred and those around him, and it was taken up all along the host, though many knew not why they shouted, and the whole host quickened its pace, and went a great trot over the smooth meadow.
So in no long while were they come over against the stead of the Erings, and thereabouts
Now as the riders of the Goths came over against the dwellings of the Withings, they saw people, mostly women, driving up the beasts from the meadow towards the garth; but upon the tofts about their dwellings were gathered many folk, who had their eyes turned toward the token of ravage that hung in the sky above the fair plain; but when these beheld the riding of the host, they tossed up their arms to them and whatever they bore in them, and the sound of their shrill cry (for they were all women and young lads) came down the wind to the ears of the riders. But down by the river on a swell of the ground were some swains and a few thralls, and among them some men armed and a-horseback; and these, when they perceived the host coming on turned and rode to meet them; and as they drew near they shouted as men overjoyed to meet their kindred; and indeed the fighting-men of their own House were riding in the host. And the armed men were three old men, and one very old with marvellous long white hair, and four long lads of some fifteen winters, and four stout carles of the thralls bearing bows and bucklers, and these rode behind the swains; so they found their own kindred and rode amongst them.
But when they were all jingling and clashing on together, the dust arising from the sun-dried turf, the earth shaking with the thunder of the horse-hoofs, then the heart of the long-hoary one stirred within him as he bethought him of the days of his youth, and to his old nostrils came the smell of the horses and the savour of the sweat of warriors riding close together knee to knee adown the meadow. So he lifted up his voice and sang:
"Rideth lovely along The strong by the strong; Soft under his breath Singeth sword in the sheath, And shield babbleth oft Unto helm-crest aloft; How soon shall their words rise mid wrath of the battle Into wrangle unheeded of clanging and rattle, And no man shall note then the gold on the sword When the runes have no meaning, the mouth-cry no word, When all mingled together, the war-sea of men Shall toss up the steel-spray round fourscore and ten.
"Now as maids burn the weed Betwixt acre and mead, So the Bearings' Roof Burneth little aloof, And red gloweth the hall Betwixt wall and fair wall, Where often the mead-sea we sipped in old days, When our feet were a-weary with wending the ways; When the love of the lovely at even was born, And our hands felt fair hands as they fell on the horn. There round about standeth the ring of the foe Tossing babes on their spears like the weeds o'er the low.
"Ride, ride then! nor spare The red steeds as ye fare! Yet if daylight shall fail, By the fire-light of bale Shall we see the bleared eyes Of the war-learned, the wise. In the acre of battle the work is to win, Let us live by the labour, sheaf-smiting therein; And as oft o'er the sickle we sang in time past When the crake that long mocked us fled light at the last, So sing o'er the sword, and the sword-hardened hand Bearing down to the reaping the wrath of the land."
So he sang; and a great shout went up from his kindred and those around him, and it was taken up all along the host, though many knew not why they shouted, and the whole host quickened its pace, and went a great trot over the smooth meadow.
So in no long while were they come over against the stead of the Erings, and thereabouts