Many a day when the
snow was drifting over their roofs, and hanging heavy on the tree-
boughs, and the wind was roaring through the trees aloft and rattling
about the close thicket, when the boughs were clattering in the wind,
and crashing down beneath the weight of the gathering freezing snow,
when all beasts and men lay close in their lairs, would they sit long
hours about the house-fire with the knife or the gouge in hand, with
the timber twixt their knees and the whetstone beside them,
hearkening to some tale of old times and the days when their banner
was abroad in the world; and they the while wheedling into growth out
of the tough wood knots and blossoms and leaves and the images of
beasts and warriors and women.
They were called nought save the Woodland-Carles in that day, though
time had been when they had borne a nobler name: and their abode was
called Carlstead. Shortly, for all they had and all they had not,
for all they were and all they were not, they were well-beloved by
their friends and feared by their foes.
Now when Wildlake's Way was gotten to Carlstead, there was an end of
it toward the north; though beyond it in a right line the wood was
thinner, because of the hewing of the Carles.
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