Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[Nurumaiel]

"Liornung, still you are silent," murmured Argeleafa in his ear, for he had not spoken a word since he had finished his meal. "Are you still awed by this place?"

"Yes," said Liornung, and he looked to her, for he had not known that she, too, was still awake, "but that is not the reason for my silence now. I was thinking of a place somewhat like this, with a cheerful fire and people resting, talking, and finding peace. There was a kind innkeeper there with a loud voice, and an old man who sent me forth to find a ballad. Yes, Leafa, 'twas Good Secgrof. There was also a girl, fair of face, with golden hair that would fall down her back. Or sometimes she would tie it behind her so it would not be in her face as she worked, but still it would slip loose and little strands of gold would fall about her flushed and rosy cheeks. Sometimes, also, when important company was expected, she would comb it until it shone brightly, and then twine it about her head in braids."

"Are you speaking of the girl Blostma, the innkeeper's daughter?"

"Why, yes, I am," said Liornung. "She's such a fine girl. She's pretty, and hard-working, and kind to all, and I do not doubt that she has faults somewhere within her, but I am blind to them."

Leafa sat back, biting her lip thoughtfully, and she gazed at him with an expression as though something very odd had occured to her. He sat with folded arms, looking into the fire, a smile on his face. A smile came to her own face, a playful and pleased smile, a smile that was knowledgeable, as if she knew all and understood, and she glanced at Ædegard. Then she leaned towards Liornung, and whispered a question in her ear. She could not resist a merry laugh when he coloured deeply, and shook his head, saying, "No, Leafa! Me? Why, never!"

"Never, Liornung?" she asked, mischief in her voice. "Why, you are a young man yet."

"I find pleasure in singing old love songs, and helping the lovesick lads and lassies realise that they do love, and I love children much, and I think they love me, and I think fondly on how much my mother and father loved each other, but, Leafa, it is a subject where I am a spectator, and a singer of what happens. I'll never be more than one who looks on."

"Hmm!" said Leafa, with a toss of her head. "We shall see!"