THE LINDEN TREE
Chapter 36
Helmwyn opened her eyes. She was awake at once. As the horns were sounded once again, she sprang out of bed, fully dressed, and searched in the darkened room for her armour. "Ortlind!" she called to her cousin. "Wake up! Wake up at once! And give me some light!"
Ortlind stirred. "What is it?" she asked sleepily, but she roused herself, for she heard the urgency in Helmwyn's voice.
"Listen. They are sounding the horns," replied Helmwyn, strapping on her skirt of scales. And the horns could only mean one thing: Orcs.
Ortlind lit a lamp at once, and ran to help her cousin into her breastplate, fastening all the buckles that Helmwyn could not reach. As for Helmwyn, she fumbled to put on her vambraces with one hand, and cursed. She was impatient, and was tempted to forget about her greaves; but Ortlind was surprisingly calm and quick about her task.
"You make a good squire, cousin!" said Helmwyn, and gave the girl one of her knives. It was all she could give her, for her practice sword was too heavy for her, and her mailshirt too big. She hoped she would not have to use it. Helmwyn girded herself with Fearless, and took up her shield; and with one last look at Ortlind, she strode out into the hall.
Men were running across the hall and out of the hall; and as Helmwyn came out onto the green, she looked about her and tried to understand what was happening. It was dark, save for the torches some men carried, and for a ruddy glow beyond the wall. Lindburg was already burning.
The lord Telramund walked up to her, and the lady Ortrud in her fighting leathers. "Helmwyn!" he called. I shall take men to the gate, and see to it that as many townspeople as possible can shelter inside the inner wall; for it seems the Orcs have already breached the town's fence."
"Perhaps they merely shot fire-arrows as of yet."
"Perhaps. But we shall hold the gate. You two, stay here, and stand guard; for the Orcs might attempt to scale the wall!" And with that he blew his horn, and rallied men to him, and ran towards the town-gate.
"I left Ortlind inside with a knife," Helmwyn told her aunt. "Do you think it is safe?"
"Nowhere is safe if Orcs come crawling in!" said Ortrud. "Come, let us gather what forces we may!"
The Dwarves had joined them, bristling with weapons, and the women were glad of their presence. Ortrud set about assembling some of the men that had gathered on the green, and took them to the western side of the wall; and Helmwyn took the remaining men eastwards.
"We are spread thin," observed Thorin. "Where is everyone?"
"With my uncle, securing the gate," answered Helmwyn. They heard men shouting, and women screaming; and the first townspeople came running into the second circle of Lindburg – as though it could shield them better than the first, thought Helmwyn darkly. She hoped they had thought to bring their weapons with them.
The pitch darkness was unnerving; and the torches, if anything, only served to spoil the men's night vision.
"What do your dwarven eyes see?" she asked Thorin.
Thorin scanned the darkness, bow at the ready, silent and intent. He watched for grapnels, or axes, or even Orcs climbing the fence with their bare claws, like rats. He said nothing, but he loosed a shaft, and there was a yelp from the fence. They were coming.
And then they had light aplenty, for the fire-arrows came.
The men raised their shields, but the shafts whistled above them and behind them. Some struck the roofs of buildings, and the dry thatch began to smoulder.
"The hall!" someone shouted. "The hall is on fire!"
"Let it burn!" Helmwyn shouted back. "They are trying to lure us from the wall!" She sensed unease among the men. "You," said she to one, "take some townsmen with you, and make sure there are none trapped inside. Do it quick! The rest of you, stand your ground!"
The blaze on the roof of the hall was already bright, and spreading fast. More people were running and shouting and screaming, but Helmwyn did not turn to look what happened behind her, for now they saw Orcs crawling over the fence in the flickering red light. Thorin took several down with his bow, and the men fell upon others as they leapt from the fence; and they held them back as there were not yet many. But then Helmwyn turned, and saw that the outbuildings had also caught fire, and among them, the storehouse where the harvest was kept. At once her belly tightened with fear.
She called to Thorin: "My lord! I shall need that horn back - now!"
Thankfully Thorin wore the great black horn on his belt; and he unhooked it, and gave it to Helmwyn, and she blew several blasts to call men to her. "The harvest!" she cried. "Take townspeople with you, make haste! Save the harvest!"
"But my lady, the Orcs!" objected one.
"We shall hold them back. Now go!"
Several men ran off toward the storehouse; and the defenders, their numbers dwindling, pulled back into a tighter circle, and hefted their shields. Thorin's arrows were spent; and he now held up his great oaken gauntlet, and raised his axe, and squared his feet, and waited for the onslaught. Orcs ran at them, brandishing serrated scimitars and fearsome maces. But the defenders had the blaze at their backs, and perhaps the Orcs were blinded. Helmwyn blocked the flailing blows, and struck home; and Thorin covered her right-hand side, and cut the Orcs' legs from underneath them.
More Orcs kept coming over the wall, and the defenders backed away, and locked their shields; and Thorin glanced over his shoulder, and saw men and women using spears, axes, reaping-hooks, anything they could find, to pull the burning thatch down off the storehouse roof.
The Orcs fell upon the shield-wall, but could not breach it; for while they hacked blindly at wood, the defenders swung axes and thrust spears and swords through every opening, and soon the Orcs had to step over the bodies of their slain fellows. But they threatened to overwhelm the defenders from the sides, and ever the defenders retreated, and their line began to curve inward.
But then the horses came. The stables were ablaze, and someone had thought to release the horses; but the beasts, maddened from the fire and the noise, ran wildly from the stables and rode down anyone in their path. The defenders huddled closely behind their shields, and stood firm; but many Orcs were mown down by the very horses whose flesh they had sought to devour.
The defenders seized the occasion, and thrust back and killed many Orcs that were wounded or bewildered; but others had withdrawn a little, and regrouped for a renewed onslaught. Helmwyn glanced over her shoulder, and saw townspeople standing there with axes and staves and reaping-hooks at the ready, young and old, men and women both. And she saw the fierce determination in their eyes; and to Thorin's amazement, she laughed.
"If they have come to bargain for our goods here at Lindburg," she called, "we shall make them pay a high price! Eorlingas! To me!" And with that the people of Lindburg advanced, and came to strengthen the shield-wall. But Telramund's men had returned from the gate, and spread out to fill the gaps in the defence; and a circle of shields now stood before the Orcs.
"Let them come," Thorin heard Helmwyn growl between clenched teeth. "Let all that are against us come!"
And then the Orcs charged.
A grey, drizzly day was rising, and Thorin found Helmwyn standing on the green, watching the hall as it smouldered in the fine rain. The roof had caved in, and the blackened beams burned still inside. She stood there like an image carved in stone, her arms clenched to her sides; but her face was wet with tears. He went and stood silently by her side.
"We will rebuild," she said. "That is one of the good things about building in wood; we can rebuild easily."
But Thorin saw that the dry leaves of the linden tree had also caught fire, and the crown of the great tree was scorched and blackened. He understood how she felt, for he knew what it was to witness the destruction of a beloved home; and so he pulled her close and held her. And she buried her face in his hair, and wept, and cared not that all could see.
She did not weep long however, for she found strength in his embrace, and comfort. "I weep for a place where I have been happy," she told him; "but you are unharmed, my lord, and that is all that truly matters." Thorin stroked her face, and gently pulled her head down until her brow touched his.
They wandered together over the green, looking for wounded, or for familiar faces among the slain; and they would dispatch any Orc that still clung to life. They found Dwalin and Ortrud with young Ortlind. The girl was alive and unhurt, but she was white as a sheet, and still clutched Helmwyn's knife. It was stained with Orc-blood, but she would not let go of it.
Telramund joined them at last, weary and ashen-faced. He too was covered in blood, but Helmwyn threw her arms about his neck, and wept again, and begged for his forgiveness.
"What is it, child? What is there to forgive?" the grizzled warrior asked.
"Forgive me, uncle," Helmwyn said again. "The men wanted to run to the hall, and attempt to save it; but I ordered them to let it burn."
Telramund smiled sadly. "Of course you did," said he, and kissed her brow; "of course you did."
"But the harvest is safe?"
"The harvest is safe," said Telramund. And with that he went and gently prized the bloody knife out of his daughter's hands.
The men had begun to lay out the bodies of their fallen companions on the green. Ortrud started giving instructions to the women, that they should tend the wounded, and the Dwarves went to see if anything could be salvaged from the ruined hall. Helmwyn desperately needed sleep, but even more, she needed to organise something. And so she went into the town, and commandeered a cart that had escaped the burning, and organised the removal of dead Orcs. It was an unpleasant task, but someone had to do it; and besides, she was little use at healing.
She took a few men with her; and together they stripped the Orcs of their armour and weapons, and loaded them onto the cart, and drove them out of Lindburg. They piled the bodies at a crossroads outside the town. Helmwyn saw that some men had managed to find horses, and rode abroad to bring back the others that had bolted during the night. As they walked back towards Lindburg to fetch another cartload of Orcs, they passed men digging graves outside the fence, on the eastern flank of a green hill where Lindburg's dead were laid to rest.
They took the cart through the town, and though the folk of the Mark were hardy, Helmwyn heard the sound of weeping from many houses. Not all townspeople, it seemed, had been able to reach the safety of the second enclosure. Helmwyn had felt numb, but now she felt the anger rising in her throat like bile.
When there were no more Orcs to cart away, Helmwyn walked back to the green, and looked upon the slain, soldiers and townspeople, men and women, young and old. Then she went to the fountain, and let the water run long over her hands; and she bathed her face, and drank, for her throat was parched from the labour and the smoke. She reeked of it. The whole of Lindburg reeked of it.
She found the Dwarves behind the hall, where folk had assembled everything that they could salvage from the ashes. The lady Ortrud was with them, looking drawn and exhausted; and Helmwyn went and embraced her.
"Could aught be saved?" Helmwyn asked.
"Everything that has not burned is blackened," said Ortrud; "and there is little that could still be used. But mercifully, most of the grain and other stores have survived. None shall starve."
There were also fewer mouths to feed, thought Helmwyn. "Tomorrow, we must bring it all to Helm's Deep," she said.
"Aye," said Ortrud. "Tomorrow. But tonight we bury the dead."
Helmwyn went to find Thorin; and he took her hand, and led her to one side. His face and arms were stained with soot-marks, and his eyes were the bluest she had ever seen; and she wanted to kiss him.
"I found something that belongs to you," he said.
Helmwyn smiled. "You are kind, my lord," she said. "But you need not have troubled yourself on my account. I have my armour, and I have my sword -" and she laid her hand upon his heart, as if to say and I have you. "That is all I need."
But Thorin went and opened a wooden chest – the very chest that had been in her chamber. It was singed and blackened; but from it Thorin lifted a bundle wrapped in scorched leather. And Helmwyn's heart leapt, for inside the leather were sheets of parchment, their edges russet and curled with the heat, but mostly intact – her collection of songs. She held the sheaf of parchments to her heart, and Thorin held her to his; and she kissed his soot-blackened face, and felt her eyes sting again.
The clouds broke at last; and as the light of the setting sun began to turn fire-red, the remaining folk of Lindburg gathered on the side of the green hill outside the town to bury their dead.
It was not much of a ceremony; but as the men threw earth over the bodies, Telramund spoke the names of the dead aloud, every one of them, and said they had died fighting, and would be welcomed into the halls of the ancestors with honour. Then Ortrud, still clad in leather and mail, and girded with her sword, began to chant a dirge in the tongue of the Mark. The onlookers' faces were closed, and some wept as Ortrud sang, and the graves filled with earth.
"Hwær cwom mearg?" Ortrud sang. "Hwær cwom mago?
Hwær cwom maþþumgyfa?
Hwær cwom symbla gesetu?
Hwær sindon seledreamas?
Eala beorht bune!
Eala byrnwiga!
Eala þeodnes þrym!
Hu seo þrag gewat,
genap under nihthelm,
swa heo no wære." (1)
Thorin found himself wondering why it was Ortrud chanting the dirge, and not Helmwyn. Perhaps it was because it was Ortrud's duty as lady of Lindburg. Perhaps it was because Helmwyn's voice would have cracked with grief. He looked at his lady, but her tears were spent, and her face was unreadable.
The sun vanished beyond the western hills, and folk filed back to what was left of Lindburg, and they shared what food they could under the open sky, speaking with quiet voices. Shelter was offered by those who still had homes. Blankets and pelts were brought. Help was pledged to widows and orphans. Folk spoke in their own tongue, but the Dwarves knew well enough what passed between the folk of Lindburg that night; aye, they knew well enough.
But when the stars came out, Helmwyn rose once more, and Ortrud, and Telramund, and the Dwarves, and the soldiers, and many of the townsfolk. They lit torches, and once more they filed out of the town, and walked past the freshly-dug graves, and went and stood by the crossroads where the dead Orcs lay in a mound.
It was fully dark now; and the men cast oil onto the mound of corpses, and set their torches to it; and soon a great blaze rose from the bodies, and a stench. The watchers stood in a circle, and did not flinch; but Helmwyn turned away form the pyre, and took a few steps into the darkness, and peered into the night. Thorin came to stand beside her.
"Can you see the mountains?" she asked him.
"I can guess their outlines, aye," he said. He looked at her, and saw that her face was grim; and though her armour was tarnished, still it shone red in the firelight.
"Good," said she. "Then I hope the bastards can see the pyre from up there. I want them to know that they will burn, every single last one of them."
Thorin searched for her hand in the dark, and twined his fingers with hers.
(1) Those are lines from the Anglo-Saxon poem The Wanderer. Which might sound a little familiar.
Where is the horse gone? Where the rider?
Where the giver of treasure?
Where are the seats at the feast?
Where are the revels in the hall?
Alas for the bright cup!
Alas for the mailed warrior!
Alas for the splendour of the prince!
How that time has passed away,
dark under the cover of night,
as if it had never been!
A/N: Well, boys and girls, I guess that was back to reality after all the fluff. Hope you enjoyed the Valentine's Day Special Orc-Raid! I'd love to hear what you think! Don't be shy. Step into the light! ;-)