When had grown young Timothe Half-shaven unto the strength of manhood, he were slight and lithe and blonde and he did sprout the fine stubble wherein young men oft take heart… upon the right half of his face only, but all the left half were silken smooth like an worn river stone, even like glass. Then, against all former hope, did see his kin, and all folk nigh, that the curse of Greyhilda Grim spoke true indeed.
And such was the meekness of Tim which his good father Jim had learned him as he took heart and oft made sport of his misfortune. And this beseemed peculiar to many for it was the custom of the land that men should make great both their strength and deeds. Others oft recounting themselves comely and rich beyond truth or even grace.
And so it was that though the sight of Tim were reckoned strange, all his deeds were reckoned moreso. And yet he took naught to heart and loved his father and mother the more for all their goodly wisdom. But in Tim’s sixteenth winter did a man and doings stranger even than his own befall him…
Bright were the sun upon the gleaming snow and cold and clear and hard the winter air; the firmament above like the stone below for grayness, when through the south field strode a sorcerer. Now did take both Jim and Tim a staff in hand and a sword upon the belt and while kindness and welcome had God bound them to bid to all who wandered wayworn, yet the marauding or cursing of the sheep in the south fold could not be borne.
“Hark ye now to my words young Tim.” And did Timothe listen close to his father against the rushing wind. “Slow now is your father with age and soft with years of farming and plenty, but in my youth was I lean with warring in the king’s service’ keeping my life and earning my bread with a quick sword and quicker wit.” “Mark now what manner of man meanders our mid-winter meadow?”
And lookt Tim close upon the stranger as they drew ever toward him, “By all outward measures he is like no man that ever I have met.” For behold the stranger was tall; Tim reckoning him near twenty hands in height. “Look how his great grey beard is forked and plaited and tuckt in his leathern belt. Would I have thought his age as great as his height, but for the ease and lightness of his gait. No rickets have ever toucht him and too lean is he for the gout. His staff sets me in mind of my father’s tales of Greyhilda Grim, but he does not lean and clutch and bend and hobble; rather strides he manfully against wind and snow. But stranger than all these be the cloak and the bag. His satchel must be weighted indeed for see how its swaying jostles his slight frame, and when once I have reckoned the color of cloak, even then do I know it not again. A moment ago twas crimson, then violet, then pale blue as spring skies, and even now tis so white my sight near loses him against the snow.”
“Well have ye seen son, and touched even to the heart of my fear. Above all else does that coat set me at unease for I know naught but enchantment which could so bewilder both eye and mind. Look now as we draw closer yet at the runes of power writ upon the stole about his neck. Half my heart forbodes we fall foul in our field of some mage or conjurer or warlock… And yet, against all reckoning, the other half of my heart is set at ease seeing this strange man.”
Then did Jim call across the south field with a great bellowing cry, “Ho there, tall stranger, will thou not turn northward to bless my humble house with your presence, warming thyself and supping with us.” Leastwise was this in Jim’s heart to cry out, but no sooner had he said, “Ho there” than was thrown up a great column and cloud of snow hiding the mysterious traveler. “For a surety, he shall ambush and waylay us, son. See how he conjureth storm and snow even now to hide himself from our sight?”
Lithe and liquid like lightning was the bow in Jim’s hands, arrow set and shaft drawn to his ear, for terrible in his memory were sorcerers in battle and loathe was he to see such again, but perhaps more loathe still to strike against an old man for ready he held his arrow and did not loose it.
In less than a breath happened all these things and though fair enough was Tim at swordplay, his nerve was neither war-forged nor war-ready as his father’s and second was he with blade in hand. But seeing his father stay his stroke, so also did Tim.
When had settled the great cloud of snow, gone was the stranger. Then said Jim, “Mage indeed was he, for he hath vanisht even as witch Greyhilda in the year of your birth. Let us go now and look upon the place of his leaving. Yet my heart misgives me that he is not gone per se but hides within the very air. I shall hope he hath left no smooth black divot as did his predecessor Greyhilda, elsewise, what with the comings and goings of mage-kin shall my whole field be glass-black.”
But lo, came they to the place and it were marked by no smooth black spot, but by an old man wallowing in the snow, tangled in his own great beard and heavy satchel. And cried out he, “Ho there yourself; what manner of ruffians and savages be you in this land, idling away your hours frightening old men. Methinks thou would do better tending thy sheep. Hath not the Lord above taught you heathens to rise up before the hoary head and honor the face of the old man?”
“Forgive us father; we meant not to frighten you, but to bid you welcome, even unto hearth and board.”
“Welcome indeed…” snorted the old man. “Welcome indeed, with thy blade in hand and shaft set to thy ear. With such welcome wouldst thou usher me into that final hearth and board which God hath readied for my old bones.”
“I say again, ‘forgive us father’. Wary came we, but welcoming, drawing neither blade nor bow til it seemed thou had conjured some storm against us. And strange enough it seems to me that thou goest about in the fields of other men and girt as a mage but freely taking the name of the living God upon thy lips. How canst thou name Him, even whilst thou art clad in conjuring runes and thy cloak ripples in the colours of thy fey power?”
“Thy beasts be thy betters, and brighter if thou canst not read the name of thy God writ upon my stole nor have benevolence enough to heave an aged and ailing man from the cold, wet snow. And what magnitude of mage wouldst thou make me out manifesting maelstrom enough to mantle all this land about?” Even as he spake did Jim and Tim endeavor, heaving, to right him from the snowbank. Despiting their manly efforts, fell he flat and firm once more on upon earth and snow.
Withering gaze then cast the old man upon this feeble feat. They thought he lookt down upon them, but for that he sat still in the snow. “A measure more of mind and less of might, would tell thee first to free me from the coils of my bag and beard before pulling like oxen at the plow.”
When once was righted the wandering wizened, looked he down upon Jim and Tim Sheep-herd. “My thanks to you for wresting from my wallowings, though doubtless thou wert the very source of my misfortune.” Wherefore the stranger wert afore occupied with righting himself and arranging his person and effects, now gazed of a sudden upon Tim and spake. “Great glory to God in the highest my son, twould seem all the wool of the land were spent upon thy stock afore thy birth and were not enough left for thy face for tis but half covered! What is the meaning of this? Surely thou art colder even than this old man for thy left cheek is smoother than stones and ruddy in this bitter breeze.”
And looked Tim upon the old man saying, “Father, I would gladly tell all and my own father would tell better for he were witness indeed. Further still would I know thy name and thy deeds if thou wouldst not think me impudent to ask. For surely thy tale is greater than the meager misfortunes of this minor sheep-herd. Yet I say that names and deeds alike are better told before a warm fire and hot cider and roast mutton, than herd here amidst the hoarfrost.”
At these words did the stranger throw back his head and laugh toward heaven. “Wise indeed did thou rear thy son, for he has wits enough not to stand about with wet and frozen feet when fair fare is fitted to eat. I humbly accept thy kind offer good sheep-herds. Lead me hence to roof and board.”
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