United States or Isle of Man ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The Sun-beam, who was anigh when that was spoken, heard it and smiled, and said: 'Gold-mane, deemest thou that it was my brother whom we blessed? 'I wot not, he said; 'but I would he were here, for this gear must speedily be looked to. Nevertheless it was nigh an hour before Folk-might came home to the House. He strode in lightly and gaily, and shaking the crest of his war-helm as he went.
But Sir Benedict was there, loud-voiced and cheery still despite fatigue, and Sir Hacon was there, his wonted gloom forgotten quite, and Beltane was there, equipped with shield and vizored war-helm and astride a noble horse, and there, too, was Roger, grim and silent, and fierce Ulf, and Walkyn in black and evil temper; quoth he: "Ha 'tis ever so, his life within my very grasp, yet doth he escape me!
But so dear thou hast been to me; and so fair and clear, and so kind withal do thine eyes shine on me from under the grey war-helm, that I will beseech thee not to cast me out utterly, but suffer me to be thy servant and handmaid for a while. Wilt thou not?"
"Forsooth," quoth the figure, his voice booming in his great war-helm, "forsooth and verily there be three things no man should leave in haste: videlicit and to wit: his prayers, his dinner and his lady. None the less came I hither to give thee greeting, good my lord." "My lord Seneschal, what manner of men be these of thine?"
"And thou art ever at thy best where danger is, Hacon," said Sir Benedict, "so will I give thee charge of our van-ward!" Now hereupon Sir Hacon's gloom vanished and rising up, he smiled and forthwith did on his great war-helm.
Hereupon, while the trumpets brayed a flourish and fanfare, forth rode Sir Gilles upon a mighty charger, a grim and warlike figure in his shining mail and blazoned surcoat, his ponderous, crested war-helm closed, his long shield covering him from shoulder to stirrup, and his lance-point twinkling on high.
So before the wise-heart Hogni shrank the champions of the East As his great voice shook the timbers in the hall of Atli's feast, There he smote and beheld not the smitten, and by nought were his edges stopped; He smote and the dead were thrust from him; a hand with its shield he lopped; There met him Atli's marshal, and his arm at the shoulder he shred; Three swords were upreared against him of the best of the kin of the dead; And he struck off a head to the rightward, and his sword through a throat he thrust, But the third stroke fell on his helm-crest, and he stooped to the ruddy dust, And uprose as the ancient Giant, and both his hands were wet: Red then was the world to his eyen, as his hand to the labour he set; Swords shook and fell in his pathway, huge bodies leapt and fell; Harsh grided shield and war-helm like the tempest-smitten bell, And the war-cries ran together, and no man his brother knew, And the dead men loaded the living, as he went the war-wood through; And man 'gainst man was huddled, till no sword rose to smite, And clear stood the glorious Hogni in an island of the fight, And there ran a river of death 'twixt the Niblung and his foes, And therefrom the terror of men and the wrath of the Gods arose."
At last the Wood-Sun spoke and said: "Thou sayest sooth, O daughter: I am no God of might, Yet I am of their race, and I think with their thoughts and see with their sight, And the threat of the doom did I know of, and yet spared not to lie: For I thought that the fate foreboded might touch and pass us by, As the sword that heweth the war-helm and cleaveth a cantle away, And the cunning smith shall mend it and it goeth again to the fray; If my hand might have held for a moment, yea, even against his will, The life of my beloved!
And his face was kind and lovely, so my cheek to his cheek I laid And touched his cold bright war-helm and with his gold rings played, And hearkened his words, though I knew not what tale they had to tell, Yet fain was my heart of their music, and meseemed I loved him well.
Wide split the war-helm: wan he fell, hoary Scylfing; the hand that smote him of feud was mindful, nor flinched from the death-blow. He had no need from Swedish realm, or from Spear-Dane folk, or from men of the Gifths, to get him help, some warrior worse for wage to buy!
Word Of The Day