And the son of the Forest Lord, he whom we call the War-smith, he it
was who beheld the Burg too much given to pleasure, and delighting
in the softness of life; and he took order to harden our hearts,
and to cause all freemen to learn the craft of war and battle,
and let the women and thralls and aliens see to other craftsmanship
and to chaffer; and even so is it done as he would; and ye shall find
us hardy of heart enough, though belike not so joyous as might be.
Yet at least we shall not be easy to overcome."
"So indeed it seemeth," said Ralph. "Yet will I ask of you
first one question, and then another."
"Ask on," said the burgher.
Said Ralph: "How is it that ye, being so strong, should still
suffer them of the Dry Tree, taking a man here and a man there,
when ye might destroy them utterly?"
The Burgher reddened and cleared his throat and said:
"Sir, it must be made clear to you that these evil beasts are no
peril to the Burg of the Four Friths; all the harm they may do us,
is as when a cur dog biteth a man in the calf of the leg;
whereby the man shall be grieved indeed, but the dog slain.
Such grief as that they have done us at whiles: but the grief
is paid for thus, that the hunting and slaying of them keeps
our men in good trim, and pleasures them; shortly to say it,
they are the chief deer wherewith our wood is stocked."
He stopped awhile and then went on again and said: "To say sooth
they be not very handy for crushing as a man crushes a wasp,
because sorcery goes with them, and the wiles of one who is their Queen,
the evilest woman who ever spat upon the blessed Host of the Altar:
yet is she strong, a devouring sea of souls, God help us!"
And he blessed himself therewith.
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