"It's neither
sceptre, sword, nor plough! Maybe yet it's a bookful of learning,
bound with iron clasps. There's a chance for a splendid fortune in
that sometimes."
'But we knew we were only speaking to comfort ourselves,
and the Lady Esclairmonde, having been a woman, said so.
'"Thur aie! Thor help us!" the Boy called. "It is round,
without end, Cold Iron, four fingers wide and a thumb thick, and
there is writing on the breadth of it."
'"Read the writing if you have the learning," I called. The
darkness had lifted by then, and the owl was out over the fern again.
'He called back, reading the runes on the iron:
"Few can see
Further forth
Than when the child
Meets the Cold Iron."
And there he stood, in clear starlight, with a new, heavy, shining
slave-ring round his proud neck.
'"Is this how it goes?" he asked, while the Lady Esclairmonde cried.
'"That is how it goes," I said. He hadn't snapped the catch
home yet, though.
'"What fortune does it mean for him?" said Sir Huon, while
the Boy fingered the ring. "You who walk under Cold Iron, you
must tell us and teach us."
'"Tell I can, but teach I cannot," I said.
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