Read Online House of the Wolfings: The William Morris Book that Inspired J. R. R. Tolkiena *s The Lord of the Rings by Michael W. Perry - Free Book Online

and their array was much like to that of the Wolfings, but
gayer; for whereas it pleased the latter to darken all their
wargear to the colour of the grey Wolf, the Beamings polished all
their gear as bright as might be, and their raiment also was mostly
bright green of hue and much beflowered; and the sign on their
banner was a green leafy tree, and the wain was drawn by great
white bulls.
    So when their company drew anear to the
throng of the stay-at-homes they went to meet and greet each other,
and tell tidings to each other; but their banner held steadily
onward amidst their converse, and in a little while they followed
it, for the way was long to the Thing-stead of the Upper-mark.
    So passed away the fighting men by the side
of Mirkwood-water, and the throng of the stay-at-homes melted
slowly from the meadow and trickled along through the acres to the
habitations of the Wolfings, and there they fell to doing whatso of
work or play came to their hands.

Chapter 5
    Concerning the Hall-Sun

    When the warriors and the others had gone
down to the mead, the Hall-Sun was left standing on the Hill of
Speech, and she stood there till she saw the host in due array
going on its ways dark and bright and beautiful; then she made as
if to turn aback to the Great Roof; but all at once it seemed to
her as if something held her back, as if her will to move had
departed from her, and that she could not put one foot before the
other. So she lingered on the Hill, and the quenched candle fell
from her hand, and presently she sank adown on the grass and sat
there with the face of one thinking intently. Yet was it with her
that a thousand thoughts were in her mind at once and no one of
them uppermost, and images of what had been and what then was
flickered about in her brain, and betwixt them were engendered
images of things to be, but unstable and not to be trowed in. So
sat the Hall-Sun on the Hill of Speech lost in a dream of the day,
whose stories were as little clear as those of a night-dream.
    But as she sat musing thus, came to her a
woman exceeding old to look on, whom she knew not as one of the
kindred or a thrall; and this carline greeted her by the name of
Hall-Sun and said:

    Hail, Hall-Sun of the Markmen! how fares it
now with thee
    When the whelps of the Woodbeast wander with
the Leafage of the Tree
    All up the Mirkwood-water to seek what they
shall find,
    The oak-boles of the battle and the war-wood
stark and blind?

    Then answered the maiden:

    It fares with me, O mother, that my soul
would fain go forth
    To behold the ways of the battle, and the
praise of the warriors’ worth.
    But yet is it held entangled in a maze of
many a thing,
    As the low-grown bramble holdeth the
brake-shoots of the Spring.
    I think of the thing that hath been, but no
shape is in my thought;
    I think of the day that passeth, and its
story comes to nought.
    I think of the days that shall be, nor shape
I any tale.
    I will hearken thee, O mother, if hearkening
may avail.

    The Carline gazed at her with dark eyes that
shone brightly from amidst her brown wrinkled face: then she sat
herself down beside her and spake:

    From a far folk have I wandered and I come
of an alien blood,
    But I know all tales of the Wolfings and
their evil and their good;
    And when I heard of thy fairness, thereof I
heard it said,
    That for thee should be never a bridal nor a
place in the warrior’s bed.

    The maiden neither reddened nor paled, but
looking with calm steady eyes into the Carline’s face she
answered:

    Yea true it is, I am wedded to the mighty
ones of old,
    And the fathers of the Wolfings ere the days
of field and fold.

    Then a smile came into the eyes of the old
woman and she said.

    How glad shall be thy mother of thy worship
and thy worth,
    And the father that begat thee if yet they
dwell on earth!

    But the Hall-Sun answered in the same steady
manner as before:

    None knoweth who is my mother, nor my very
father’s name;
    But when to the House of the Wolfings