Withal he told of the mountain-
folk, and in especial how they of the plains, when he was scarce more
than a boy, had met them in battle in that same dale, and how fierce
the fight was; whereas the mountain-men were fighting for a life of
desires accomplished, which hitherto had been but a dream unto them;
and the men of the plain fought for dear life itself, and for all
that made it aught save death in life. Wherefore up and down the
dale they fought, at first in ordered ranks and then in knots, and
lastly sword to sword and man to man, till there was no foot of grass
or black sand there which had not its shower of blood; and the stream
was choked with the dead, and ran red out of the dale; till at last
well-nigh all the host of the mountain-men was fallen, and scarce
less of the folk of the plains, but these men held the field and had
the victory.
All this he told her deftly and well, and though he said not so right
out, yet let her wot that, youth as he was, he was of the battle; and
his voice was clear and good, and Birdalone's wrath ran off her, and
she hearkened his tale, and even asked him a question here and there;
and so courteous was this Black Knight now become, that Birdalone
began to think that she had fallen short of courtesy to him, because
of her fear and the weariness of the waiting which so oppressed her;
and that shamed and irked her, for she would fain be of all courtesy.
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