William H. Babcock - Cian of the Chariots - Chapter XXI: A Ride Through the Saxon-Wasted Land lyrics

CHAPTER XXI. A RIDE THROUGH THE SAXON-WASTED LAND. By the common oath, In the midst of his Cymry Defending Tren, That wasted town. – LLYWARCH. TWENTY men rode with them; this time not through desolation at the first, for some hearth-smoke was always rising. Yet the human thread remained very slender everywhere. Toward the end they came into a better region than the hill-country of Argoed; but plainly it had fared much worse. The ruins which they pa**ed were significantly humble ones, and of recent date. There was that in the air which made human spirits fail. The faces of men looked haunted and fugitive. Dynan felt it all with strange intensity. Though dropping his pa**ing word of hope on unpromising soil, he sat often for a long time by the fire with chin on hand. His soul, tired of despondent things, went lightly over the hills in his musing, to find Freur of the pensive eyes in her cloud of hair, amid the calm of eventide. [Page 203] It pa**ed on also into a future that should not be lived alone. In lovely scenes he saw her; but all faded away as he sank from those welcome visions into the wilder, vaguer, and more shifting ones of sleep. Then a dread thing came to pa**. A woman-like form held his eye. Waveringly apparelled was she in that lightest, filmiest green of the bud-bursting in early spring. Whether of good or evil, he could not say, but a being of the subtler world most surely. He could not fix any lineament and remember it. There were only the essence of a mockery, a living, denying perversity, an inexplicable power to whirl away and inthrall. He was aware of motion, as though that head of haze and starlight were very slowly shaken. A voice like running water reached his ears – "No, for I claim you." There was a sound as of the blowing of his own elfin horn, a rush upon him of many terrors; and in the dawn he awoke. But thereafter his mirth grew fitful and no longer free. The unearthly chord in him answered to unearthly vibrations. Not all were overborne in Cian's realm, but industry had been broken. Why sow, for the raiding enemy to reap or destroy utterly? Why build the bonfire of the Furies? Life tended toward the simple ways of hunting and herding. Flocks were gathered within walls of a night, and often by day. [Page 204] They were made also to grow, in a manner, by wide-ranging, retaliatory forays. Villages had given place to towers with outlying enclosure, even the prince's birthplace being more a fortress than a town. There they found Cian's father, badger-gray, and badger-like in endurance, with two war-hardened sons, both a little uncouth by reason of harsh conditions and stunting. Proud of his eldest, fighting far away with Arthur, the old man, from first to last, had set his teeth, holding the bones of his princedom with a bitter grip, sending news of each victory as best he could, but stifling every cry for aid. Even now, in trebly welcoming Llywarch, this tough old border-king – who still maintained that title – must needs tempt him aside, and beseech him to be silent. "For we would not draw Cian away from the greater work before him." Yet the thought crossed the Prince of Argoed that right here, in the midst of these hate-stimulated, half-organized resources, well within stroke of the enemy, there might be for Cian of the Chariots such an opportunity as no one had yet felt or seen. Even to Llywarch, free as any living man from Druidic ties and mystery, strange allusions were addressed, having to do with the occult power, fore-knowledge, and design of his friend. There was very evident expectancy abroad of great things from him. [Page 205] In this sequestered and battered bit of the island were more men than elsewhere who had openly taken to the restored rites of Mona with superabundant zeal. But Llywarch and Dynan were not even yet in the extremest ragged selvage of living Britain. The rush of the northwestern Saxons through the old soldier population – the far-descended offspring of many races in garrison along the great wall – had borne fragments before it which resisted as they could, and for the most part left them stranded at last along the edge of the great woods or in isolated fastnesses. Thence at intervals ma**es of people came in, of varying quality, often before unheard of. Still out in that land, now growing strange unto men, abode the sons of the crags and caves, the daughters of myth and rumor. It seemed well every way to seek these lost people of the wild, and also to see with his own eyes what the Saxons were doing. Therefore they took horse again, with Cian's youngest brother for escort and guide; also a few of his men. Their course was partly at random, with frequent changes, but having certain points in mind where people who had taken refuge were reported. One of these they found, but not its people, nor any hint as to why they had gone, or when they had been borne away. Another small settlement lay north of the Saxon [Page 206] war-road which ran toward the cities and valleys of the west. There was little to be noted in it beyond a very hideous idol-god in a hollow and doleful place. Even a sea-robber would hardly covet it. "I thought I knew all about Poverty," said Dynan; "but until now I never saw him bowed down to and worshipped. There's not a doubt of it. As soon as I set eyes on the old fellow, I knew him for the jolly abominable acquaintance of early days." These demi-savages were but faintly stirred by the name of Arthur or by any news from the south. Yet they fancied themselves, vaguely and crudely, more in the world than were some others, – especially the cliff-people, of whom, in their uncouth way, they told wonderful things, after the manner of men concerning what is hid by a veil, though near. For across the interval bands of Saxons and lawless renegades were roaming continually. Not long after setting forth again, the explorers had some taste of these latter people. Riding briskly through open woods, their hoofs rang out such music from the frozen ground that they tempted an ambush. A flight of arrows, coming from everywhere, emptied three saddles together; and then spears were in play. During the first bewildered moments, there were those who would have fled if they had any fancy whither to go. But Llywarch and Cian's brother held them together by voice and deed; while Dynan, [Page 207] catching sight of horses, made for them with a great clamor, whereby the Saxons lost their main advantage, being driven to hurry from covert in defence of their booty. Yet even this proved unavailing; and in the end they were driven away, leaving most of it. From one of them, wounded and captured, Llywarch learned that their foray was a most recent one, made on those very people whom he sought.