第45章 CHAPTER XVII(2)

"What aileth thee, O Wood-Sun, and is this a new custom of thy kindred and the folk of God-home that their brides array themselves like thralls new-taken, and as women who have lost their kindred and are outcast? Who then hath won the Burg of the Anses, and clomb the rampart of God-home?"But she spoke from where she stood in a voice so sweet, that it thrilled to the very marrow of his bones.

"I have dwelt a while with sorrow since we met, we twain, in the wood:

I have mourned, while thou hast been merry, who deemest the war-play good.

For I know the heart of the wilful and how thou wouldst cast away The rampart of thy life-days, and the wall of my happy day.

Yea I am the thrall of Sorrow; she hath stripped my raiment off And laid sore stripes upon me with many a bitter scoff.

Still bidding me remember that I come of the God-folk's kin, And yet for all my godhead no love of thee may win."Then she looked longingly at him a while and at last could no longer refrain her, but drew nigh him and took his hands in hers, and kissed his mouth, and said as she caressed him:

"O where are thy wounds, beloved? how turned the spear from thy breast, When the storm of war blew strongest, and the best men met the best?

Lo, this is the tale of to-day: but what shall to-morrow tell?

That Thiodolf the Mighty in the fight's beginning fell;That there came a stroke ill-stricken, there came an aimless thrust, And the life of the people's helper lay quenched in the summer dust."He answered nothing, but smiled as though the sound of her voice and the touch of her hand were pleasant to him, for so much love there was in her, that her very grief was scarcely grievous. But she said again:

"Thou sayest it: I am outcast; for a God that lacketh mirth Hath no more place in God-home and never a place on earth.

A man grieves, and he gladdens, or he dies and his grief is gone;But what of the grief of the Gods, and the sorrow never undone?

Yea verily I am the outcast. When first in thine arms I lay On the blossoms of the woodland my godhead passed away;Thenceforth unto thee was I looking for the light and the glory of life And the Gods' doors shut behind me till the day of the uttermost strife.

And now thou hast taken my soul, thou wilt cast it into the night, And cover thine head with the darkness, and turn thine eyes from the light.

Thou wouldst go to the empty country where never a seed is sown And never a deed is fashioned, and the place where each is alone;But I thy thrall shall follow, I shall come where thou seemest to lie, I shall sit on the howe that hides thee, and thou so dear and nigh!

A few bones white in their war-gear that have no help or thought, Shall be Thiodolf the Mighty, so nigh, so dear--and nought."His hands strayed over her shoulders and arms, caressing them, and he said softly and lovingly:

"I am Thiodolf the Mighty: but as wise as I may be No story of that grave-night mine eyes can ever see, But rather the tale of the Wolfings through the coming days of earth, And the young men in their triumph and the maidens in their mirth;And morn's promise every evening, and each day the promised morn, And I amidst it ever reborn and yet reborn.

This tale I know, who have seen it, who have felt the joy and pain, Each fleeing, each pursuing, like the links of the draw-well's chain:

But that deedless tide of the grave-mound, and the dayless nightless day, E'en as I strive to see it, its image wanes away.

What say'st thou of the grave-mound? shall I be there at all When they lift the Horn of Remembrance, and the shout goes down the hall, And they drink the Mighty War-duke and Thiodolf the old?

Nay rather; there where the youngling that longeth to be bold Sits gazing through the hall-reek and sees across the board A vision of the reaping of the harvest of the sword, There shall Thiodolf be sitting; e'en there shall the youngling be That once in the ring of the hazels gave up his life to thee."She laughed as he ended, and her voice was sweet, but bitter was her laugh. Then she said:

"Nay thou shalt be dead, O warrior, thou shalt not see the Hall Nor the children of thy people 'twixt the dais and the wall.

And I, and I shall be living; still on thee shall waste my thought:

I shall long and lack thy longing; I shall pine for what is nought."But he smiled again, and said:

"Not on earth shall I learn this wisdom; and how shall I learn it then When I lie alone in the grave-mound, and have no speech with men?

But for thee,--O doubt it nothing that my life shall live in thee, And so shall we twain be loving in the days that yet shall be."It was as if she heard him not; and she fell aback from him a little and stood silently for a while as one in deep thought; and then turned and went a few paces from him, and stooped down and came back again with something in her arms (and it was the hauberk once more), and said suddenly:

"O Thiodolf, now tell me for what cause thou wouldst not bear This grey wall of the hammer in the tempest of the spear?

Didst thou doubt my faith, O Folk-wolf, or the counsel of the Gods, That thou needs must cast thee naked midst the flashing battle-rods, Or is thy pride so mighty that it seemed to thee indeed That death was a better guerdon than the love of the God-head's seed?"But Thiodolf said: "O Wood-Sun, this thou hast a right to ask of me, why I have not worn in the battle thy gift, the Treasure of the World, the Dwarf-wrought Hauberk! And what is this that thou sayest?

I doubt not thy faith towards me and thine abundant love: and as for the rede of the Gods, I know it not, nor may I know it, nor turn it this way nor that: and as for thy love and that I would choose death sooner, I know not what thou meanest; I will not say that I love thy love better than life itself; for these two, my life and my love, are blended together and may not be sundered.