sat unhelmed with the
dwarf-wrought hauberk about him, holding Throng-plough in its sheath
across his knees, while he gave word to this and that man concerning the
order of the host.
So when they were come thither, the throng opened that the messengers
might come forward; for by this time had many more drawn near to hearken
what was toward. There they sat on their horses, the white and the grey,
and Wolfkettle stood by Geirbald's bridle rein, for he had now lighted
down; and a little behind him, his head towering over the others, stood
Hiarandi great and gaunt. The ragged cloud had drifted down south-east
now and the rain fell no more, but the sun was still pale and clouded.
Then Thiodolf looked gravely on them, and spake:
"What do ye sons of the War-shield? what tale is there to tell?
Is the kindred fallen tangled in the grasp of the fallow Hell?
Crows the red cock over the homesteads, have we met the foe too late?
For meseems your brows are heavy with the shadowing o'er of fate."
But Geirbald answered:
"Still cold with dew in the morning the Shielding Roof-ridge stands,
Nor yet hath grey Hell bounden the Shielding warriors' hands;
But lo, the swords, O War-duke, how thick in the wind they shake,
Because we bear the message that the battle-road ye take,
Nor tarry for the thunder or the coming on of rain,
Or the windy cloudy night-tide, lest your battle be but vain.
And this is the word that Otter yestre'en hath set in my mouth;
Seek thou the trail of the Aliens of the Cities of the South,
And thou shalt find it leading o'er the heaths to the beechen-wood,
And thence to the stony places where the foxes find their food;
And thence to the tangled thicket where the folkway cleaves it
through,
To the eastern edge of Mid-mark where the Bearings deal and do."
Then said Thiodolf in a cold voice, "What then hath befallen Otter?"
Said Geirbald:
"When last I looked upon Otter, all armed he rode the plain,
With his whole host clattering round him like the rush of the summer
rain;
To the right or the left they looked not but they rode through the
dusk and the dark
Beholding nought before them but the dream of the foes in the Mark.
So he went; but his word fled from him and on my horse it rode,
And again it saith, O War-duke seek thou the Bear's abode,
And tarry never a moment for ought that seems of worth,
For there shall ye find
|