The Well at the World's End: A Tale

by William Morris

  CHAPTER 13

  They Come to Whitwall Again

  Herewith they were come to a little thorp where the way sundered, forthe highway went on to Whitwall, and a byway turned off to Swevenham.Thereby was a poor hostel, where they stayed and rested for the night,because evening was at hand. So when those four had eaten and drunkthere together, Ralph spoke and said: "Michael-a-dale, thou art forSwevenham to-morrow?" "Yea, lord," said Michael, "belike I shall yetfind kindred there; and I call to thy mind that I craved of thee tolead me to Swevenham as payment for all if I had done aught for thyservice."

  "Sooth is that," said Ralph, "thou shalt go with my good-will; and, asI deem, thou shalt not lack company betwixt here and Swevenham, whereasour dear friend here, the friend of thy father's father, is going thesame road."

  Then the Sage of Swevenham leaned across the board, and said: "Whatword hath come out of thy mouth, my son?" Said Ralph, smiling on him:"It is the last word which we have heard from thee of this matter,though verily it was spoken a while ago. What wilt thou add to it asnow?" "This," quoth the Sage, "that I will leave thee no more tillthou biddest me go from thee. Was this word needful?"

  Ralph reached his hand to him and said: "It is well and more; but theroad hence to Upmeads may yet be a rough one." "Yea," said the Sage,"yet shall we come thither all living, unless my sight now faileth."

  Then Ursula rose up and came to the old man, and cast her arms abouthim and said: "Yea, father, come with us, and let thy wisdom bless ourroof-tree. Wilt thou not teach our children wisdom; yea, maybe ourchildren's children, since thou art a friend of the Well?"

  "I know not of the teaching of wisdom," said the Sage; "but as to mygoing with thee, it shall be as I said e'en-now; and forsooth I lookedfor this bidding of thee to make naught of the word which I spoke ereyet I had learned wisdom of thee."

  Therewith were they merry, and fain of each other, and the evening woreamidst great content.

  But when morning was come they gat to horse, and Ralph spake to Michaeland said: "Well, friend, now must thou ride alone to thy kindred, andmay fair days befall thee in Swevenham. But if thou deem at any timethat matters go not so well with thee as thou wouldst, then turn thinehead to Upmeads, and try it there, and we shall further thee all wemay."

  Then came the Sage to Michael as he sat upon his horse, a stalwarth manof some forty winters, and said: "Michael-a-dale, reach me thinehand." So did he, and the Sage looked into the palm thereof, and said:"This man shall make old bones, and it is more like than not, King'sson, that he shall seek to thee at Upmeads ere he die." Said Ralph:"His coming shall be a joy to us, how pleasant soever our life may beotherwise. Farewell, Michael! all good go with thee for thinewholesome redes."

  So then Michael gave them farewell, and rode his ways to Swevenham,going hastily, as one who should hurry away from a grief.

  But the three held on their way to Whitwall, and it was barely noonwhen they came to the gate thereof on a Saturday of latter May, It wasa market-day, and the streets were thronged, and they looked on thefolk and were fain of them, since they seemed to them to be somethingmore than aliens. The folk also looked on them curiously, and deemedthem goodly, both the old man and the two knights, for they thought nootherwise of Ursula than that she was a carle.

  But now as they rode, slowly because of the crowd, up Petergate, theyheard a cry of one beside them, as of a man astonished but joyful; soRalph drew rein, and turned thither whence the cry came, and Ursula sawa man wide-shouldered, grey-haired, blue-eyed, and ruddy ofcountenance--a man warrior-like to look on, and girt with a long sword.Ralph lighted down from his horse, and met the man, who was comingtoward him, cast his arms about his neck, and kissed him, and lo, itwas Richard the Red. The people round about, when they saw it, clappedtheir hands, and crowded about the two crying out: "Hail to thefriends long parted, and now united!" But Richard, whom most knew,cried out: "Make way, my masters! will ye sunder us again?" Then hesaid to Ralph: "Get into thy saddle, lad; for surely thou hast a taleto tell overlong for the open street."

  Ralph did as he was bidden, and without more ado they went on alltoward that hostelry where Ralph had erst borne the burden of grief.Richard walked by Ralph's side, and as he went he said: "Moreover, lad,I can see that thy tale is no ill one; therefore my heart is not wrungfor thee or me, though I wait for it a while." Then again he said:"Thou doest well to hide her loveliness in war-weed even in this townof peace."

  Ursula reddened, and Richard laughed and said: "Well, it is a fair rosewhich thou hast brought from east-away. There will be never anothercouple in these parts like you. Now I see the words on thy lips; so Itell thee that Blaise thy brother is alive and well and happy; whichlast word means that his coffer is both deep and full. Forsooth, hewould make a poor bargain in buying any kingship that I wot of, so richhe is, yea, and mighty withal."

  Said Ralph: "And how went the war with Walter the Black?"

  Even as he spake his face changed, for he bethought him over closely ofthe past days, and his dream of the Lady of Abundance and of Dorothea,who rode by him now as Ursula. But Richard spake: "Short is the taleto tell. I slew him in shock of battle, and his men craved peace ofthe good town. Many were glad of his death, and few sorrowed for it;for, fair as his young body was, he was a cruel tyrant."

  Therewith were they come to the hostel of the Lamb which was the verysame house wherein Ralph had abided aforetime; and as he entered it, itis not to be said but that inwardly his heart bled for the old sorrow.Ursula looked on him lovingly and blithely; and when they were withindoors Richard turned to the Sage and said: "Hail to thee, reverendman! wert thou forty years older to behold, outworn and forgotten ofdeath, I should have said that thou wert like to the Sage that dweltalone amidst the mountains nigh to Swevenham when I was a little lad,and fearsome was the sight of thee unto me."

  The Sage laughed and said: "Yea, somewhat like am I yet to myself offorty years ago. Good is thy memory, greybeard."

  Then Richard shook his head, and spake under his breath: "Yea, then itwas no dream or coloured cloud, and he hath drank of the waters, and sothen hath my dear lord." Then he looked up bright-faced, and called onthe serving-men, and bade one lead them into a fair chamber, andanother go forth and provide a banquet to be brought in thither. Sothey went up into a goodly chamber high aloft; and Ursula went forthfrom it awhile, and came back presently clad in very fair woman'sraiment, which Ralph had bought for her at Goldburg. Richard looked onher and nothing else for a while; then he walked about the chamberuneasily, now speaking with the Sage, now with Ursula, but never withRalph. At last he spake to Ursula, and said: "Grant me a grace, lady,and be not wroth if I take thy man into the window yonder that I maytalk with him privily while ye hold converse together, thou and theSage of Swevenham."

  She laughed merrily and said: "Sir nurse, take thy bantling and cossethim in whatso corner thou wilt, and I will turn away mine eyes from thycaresses."

  So Richard took Ralph into a window, and sat down beside him and said:"Mayhappen I shall sadden thee by my question, but I mind me what ourlast talking together was about, and therefore I must needs ask theethis, was that other one fairer than this one is?"

  Ralph knit his brows: "I wot not," quoth he, "since she is gone, thatother one."

  "Yea," said Richard, "but this I say, that she is without a blemish.Did ye drink of the Well together?"

  "Yea, surely," said Ralph. Said Richard: "And is this woman of a goodheart? Is she valiant?" "Yea, yea," said Ralph, flushing red.

  "As valiant as was that other?" said Richard. Said Ralph: "How may Itell, unless they were tried in one way?" Yet Richard spake: "Are yewedded?" "Even so," said Ralph.

  "Dost thou deem her true?" said Richard. "Truer than myself," saidRalph, in a voice which was somewhat angry.

  Quoth Richard: "Then is it better than well, and better than well; fornow hast thou wedded into the World of living men, and not to a dreamof the Land of Fairy."

 
Ralph sat silent a little, and as if he were swallowing somewhat; atlast he said: "Old friend, I were well content if thou wert to speaksuch words no more; for it irks me, and woundeth my heart."

  Said Richard: "Well, I will say no more thereof; be content therefore,for now I have said it, and thou needest not fear me, what I have tosay thereon any more, and thou mayst well wot that I must needs havesaid somewhat of this."

  Ralph nodded to him friendly, and even therewith came in the banquet,which was richly served, as for a King's son, and wine was poured forthof the best, and they feasted and were merry. And then Ralph told allthe tale of his wanderings how it had betid, bringing in all thatUrsula had told him of Utterbol; while as for her she put in no word ofit. So that at last Ralph, being wishful to hear her tell somewhat,made more of some things than was really in them, so that she might sethim right; but no word more she said for all that, but only smiled onhim now and again, and sat blushing like a rose over hergolden-flowered gown, while Richard looked on her and praised her inhis heart exceedingly.

  But when Ralph had done the story (which was long, so that by then itwas over it had been dark night some while), Richard said: "Well,fosterling, thou hast seen much, and done much, and many would say thatthou art a lucky man, and that more and much more lieth ready to thinehand. Whither now wilt thou wend, or what wilt thou do?"

  Ralph's face reddened, as its wont had been when it was two yearsyounger, at contention drawing nigh, and he answered: "Where thenshould I go save to the House of my Fathers, and the fields that fedthem? What should I do but live amongst my people, warding them fromevil, and loving them and giving them good counsel? For whereforeshould I love them less than heretofore? Have they become dastards,and the fools of mankind?"

  Quoth Richard: "They are no more fools than they were belike, nor lessvaliant. But thou art grown wiser and mightier by far; so that thouart another manner man than thou wert, and the Master of Masters maybe.To Upmeads wilt thou go; but wilt thou abide there? Upmeads is a fairland, but a narrow; one day is like another there, save when sorrow andharm is blent with it. The world is wide, and now I deem that thouholdest the glory thereof in the hollow of thine hand."

  Then spake the Sage, and said: "Yea, Richard of Swevenham, and howknowest thou but that this sorrow and trouble have not now fallen uponUpmeads? And if that be so, upon whom should they call to theirhelping rather than him who can help them most, and is their verylord?" Said Richard: "It may be so, wise man, though as yet we haveheard no tidings thereof. But if my lord goeth to their help, yet,when the trouble shall be over, will he not betake him thither wherefresh deeds await him?"

  "Nay, Richard," said the Sage, "art thou so little a friend of thyfosterling as not to know that when he hath brought back peace to theland, it will be so that both he shall need the people, and they him,so that if he go away for awhile, yet shall he soon come back? Yea,and so shall the little land, it may be, grow great."

  Now had Ralph sat quiet while this talk was going on, and as if heheeded not, and his eyes were set as if he were beholding something faraway. Then Richard spoke again after there had been silence awhile:"Wise man, thou sayest sooth; yea, and so it is, that though we herehave heard no tale concerning war in Upmeads, yet, as it were, we havebeen feeling some stirring of the air about us; even as though matterswere changing, great might undone, and weakness grown to strength. Whocan say but our lord may find deeds to hand or ever he come to Upmeads?"

  Ralph turned his head as one awaking from a dream, and he said: "Whenshall to-morrow be, that we may get us gone from Whitwall, we three,and turn our faces toward Upmeads?"

  Said Richard: "Wilt thou not tarry a day or two, and talk with thineown mother's son and tell him of thine haps?" "Yea," said Ralph, "andso would I, were it not that my father's trouble and my mother's griefdraw me away."

  "O tarry not," said Ursula; "nay, not for the passing of the night; butmake this hour the sunrise, and begone by the clear of the moon. Forlo! how he shineth through the window!"

  Then she turned to Richard, and said: "O fosterer of my love, knowestthou not that as now he speaketh as a Friend of the Well, and wottethmore of far-off tidings than even this wise man of many years?"

  Said Ralph: "She sayeth sooth, O Richard. Or how were it if the torchwere even now drawing nigh to the High House of Upmeads: yea, or ifthe very House were shining as a dreary candle of the meadows, andreddening the waters of the ford! What do we here?"

  Therewith he thrust the board from him, and arose and went to hisharness, and fell to arming him, and he spake to Richard: "Now shallthine authority open to us the gates of the good town, though the nightbe growing old; we shall go our ways, dear friend, and mayhappen weshall meet again, and mayhappen not: and thou shalt tell my brotherBlaise who wotteth not of my coming hither, how things have gone withme, and how need hath drawn me hence. And bid him come see me atUpmeads, and to ride with a good band of proper men, for eschewing thedangers of the road."

  Then spake Richard: "I shall tell Lord Blaise neither more nor lessthan thou mayst tell him thyself: for think it not that thou shalt gowithout me. As for Blaise, he may well spare me; for he is become achief and Lord of the Porte; and the Porte hath now right goodmen-at-arms, and captains withal younger and defter than I be. But nowsuffer me to send a swain for my horse and arms, and another to thecaptain of the watch at West-gate Bar that he be ready to open to meand three of my friends, and to send me a let-pass for the occasion.So shall we go forth ere it be known that the brother of the Lord ofthe Porte is abiding at the Lamb. For verily I see that the Lady hathspoken truth; and it is like that she is forseeing, even as thou hastgrown to be. And now I bethink me I might lightly get me a score ofmen to ride with us, whereas we may meet men worse than ourselves onthe way."

  Said Ralph: "All good go with thy words, Richard; yet gather notforce: there may stout men be culled on the road; and if thou runnestor ridest about the town, we may yet be stayed by Blaise and his men.Wherefore now send for thine horse and arms, and bid the host here openhis gates with little noise when we be ready; and we will presentlyride out by the clear of the moon. But thou, beloved, shalt don thinearmour no more, but shalt ride henceforth in thy woman's raiment, forthe wild and the waste is well nigh over, and the way is but shortafter all these months of wandering; and I say that now shall allfriends drift toward us, and they that shall rejoice to strike a strokefor my father's son, and the peaceful years of the Friend of the Well."

  To those others, and chiefly to Ursula, it seemed that now he spokestrongly and joyously, like to a king and a captain of men. Richarddid his bidding, and was swift in dealing with the messengers. But theSage said: "Ralph, my son, since ye have lost one man-at-arms, andhave gotten but this golden angel in his stead, I may better that. Iprithee bid thy man Richard find me armour and weapons that I may amendthe shard in thy company. Thou shalt find me no feeble man when wecome to push of staves."

  Ralph laughed, and bade Richard see to it; so he dealt with the host,and bought good war-gear of him, and a trenchant sword, and an axewithal; and when the Sage was armed he looked as doughty a warrior asneed be. By this time was Richard's horse and war-gear come, and hearmed him speedily and gave money to the host, and they rode therewithall four out of the hostel, and found the street empty and still, forthe night was wearing. So rode they without tarrying into Westgate andcame to the Bar, and speedily was the gate opened to them; and anonwere they on the moonlit road outside of Whitwall.