“So this man made a shift to flee away from out of that garth, since it was not far from the great river; and being a valiant man, and young and mighty of body, he escaped all perils and came to us through the Mirkwood.  But we saw that he was no liar, and had been very evilly handled, for upon his body was the mark of many a stripe, and of the shackles that had been soldered on to his limbs; also it was more than one of these accursed people whom he had slain when he fled.  So he became our guest and we loved him, and he dwelt among us and yet dwelleth, for we have taken him into our House.  But yesterday he was sick and might not ride with us; but may be he will follow on and catch up with us in a day or two.  And if he come not, then will I bring him over to the Wolfings when the battle is done.”

Then laughed the Beaming man, and spake: 

“How then if ye come not back, nor Wolfkettle, nor the Welsh Guest, nor I myself?  Meseemeth no one of these Southland Cities shall we behold, and no more of the Southlanders than their war-array.”

“These are evil words,” said Wolfkettle, “though such an outcome must be thought on.  But why deemest thou this?”

Said the Beaming:  “There is no Hall-Sun sitting under our Roof at home to tell true tales concerning the Kindred every day.  Yet forsooth from time to time is a word said in our Folk-hall for good or for evil; and who can choose but hearken thereto?  And yestereve was a woeful word spoken, and that by a man-child of ten winters.”

Said the Elking:  “Now that thou hast told us thus much, thou must tell us more, yea, all the word which was spoken; else belike we shall deem of it as worse than it was.”

Said the Beaming:  “Thus it was; this little lad brake out weeping yestereve, when the Hall was full and feasting; and he wailed, and roared out, as children do, and would not be pacified, and when he was asked why he made that to do, he said:  ’Well away!  Raven hath promised to make me a clay horse and to bake it in the kiln with the pots next week; and now he goeth to the war, and he shall never come back, and never shall my horse be made.’  Thereat we all laughed as ye may well deem.  But the lad made a sour countenance on us and said, ’why do ye laugh? look yonder, what see ye?’ ‘Nay,’ said one, ’nought but the Feast-hall wall and the hangings of the High-tide thereon.’  Then said the lad sobbing:  ’Ye see ill:  further afield see I:  I see a little plain, on a hill top, and fells beyond it far bigger than our speech-hill:  and there on the plain lieth Raven as white as parchment; and none hath such hue save the dead.’  Then said Raven, (and he was a young man, and was standing thereby).  ’And well is that, swain, to die in harness!  Yet hold up thine heart; here is Gunbert who shall come back and bake thine horse for thee.’  ’Nay never more,’ quoth the child, ’For I see his pale head lying at Raven’s feet; but his body with the green gold-broidered kirtle I see not.’  Then was the laughter stilled, and man after man drew near to the child, and questioned him, and asked, ‘dost thou see me?’ ‘dost thou see me?’ And he failed to see but few of those that asked him.  Therefore now meseemeth that not many of us shall see the cities of the South, and those few belike shall look on their own shackles therewithal.”