In An Age Before – Part 218
Chapter One Hundred forty-one
The Fall of the Wainriders, Rhûn – The Third Age of the Sun
Now as has been told aforetime, in T.A. 1944 the Wainriders made alliance with the Haradrim and attacked Gondor from both north and south. 'Twas their boldest assault to date and t'would lead to their greatest disaster save one.
In the south, the Haradrim crossed the river Poros from Harondor and entered South Ithilien with an army of one hundred thousand foot and twenty-five thousand horse. 'Twas a tactical error that they had brought no Mûmakil, though perhaps the Haradrim involved in this attack had not come from the further south. Worse, whether by virtue of poor planning or wishful thinking, they had not expected battle 'til the land narrowed, halfway 'twixt Poros and the hills of Emyn Arnen. On their first night in Ithilien, Eärnil, General of Gondor's Southern Army, met them after they broke formation to set their night's camp, and he assailed them where the King's Road that came from his stronghold at Pelargir met the Ithilien Road. There, but a score miles north of the Poros, his cavalry slammed into their camp, the infantry followed, and ere midnight, seventy-five thousand soldiers of Gondor had slaughtered the numerically superior Southrons. Indeed, so complete was Eärnil's victory that on the following morn he marched north through Ithilien to aid the king.
Gondor's Northern Army had fared far less successfully. Though they had numbered one hundred fifty thousand, including thirty thousand cavalry, King Ondoher chose to meet the Wainriders on the flat ground of Dagorlad before the ruined Morannon. Being an entirely mounted force, the Easterlings had advanced far faster than anticipated, and just as Eärnil had done in the south, they embattled the king ere his position was set. Against the Easterling cavalry and their thousands of war chariots, he was badly outclassed. The added strength of five hundred mounted Northmen volunteers barely made a difference, for the great mobility of the Wainrider army allowed them to cut down Gondor's infantry and drive through their cavalry. Half of Gondor's Northern Army, including the king and his sons Artamir and Faramir, (the latter having defied his father and disguised himself to ride to war in the company of the Northmen), were all slain. The Disaster of the Morannon ended with the remnants of the Northern Army put to rout, fleeing into North Ithilien. Behind them, the Wainriders rested from the pursuit at nightfall to celebrate their o'erwhelming victory.
'Twas there on the northern border of Ithilien, as the Wainriders feasted and drank, that General Eärnil leading the Southern Army and the gathered remnants of the Northern Army, came upon them during their revels and charged into their camp. Wholly unprepared for battle, the Easterlings were massacred, their wains fired, and in a rage driven by lust of vengeance, the Dúnedain pursued their foes into the Dead Marshes or east 'cross Dagorlad. Barely one in five Wainriders survived the Battle of the Camp to flee back to Rhûn with little more than the clothes on their backs.
In the aftermath, the victorious General Eärnil was acclaimed Eärnil II, thirty-second King of Gondor. To the east, the surviving Wainriders seethed, their pride stung by their defeat, and slowly began to rebuild their numbers. Only because of the need to maintain their empire in Rhûn had the invasion force been comprised of but half their strength. Those who remained were still sufficient to hold their territory, but that was about to change.
In the very year of their disastrous western campaign, a twenty-two year old prince of the Mâh-Sakâ inherited the leadership of the Clan of the Red Mountains. Within a decade, Targitai was Khan of a growing confederation, and as he unified his people, his lands became wholly independent of their hereditary enemies, the Medes and their allies. The ascendance of the Massagetae began slowly, but gained strength with each passing year. Ere two decades had passed, the lands beyond the lower branches of the river Rā were too hazardous for any foe, for the indigenous people there were vicious in battle, nursed by generations of hatred, and they were expert horse archers. As the third decade of his rule closed, Targitai Khan loosed two hosts commanded by his elder sons to harry the Worshippers of the God of Fire beyond the river Rā. They numbered a combined quarter million warriors and had become such a threat to the Wainriders that they were unable to continue their campaign against the west. Whilst the Dúnedain seemed to increase in numbers only slowly, the Mâh-Sakâ Confederation seemed to gain in strength at a shocking rate.
Yet for the Medes, worse was soon to come. In the late 1970s, rumors spread that the Khan's host included one of the God of Fire's Nonādide, one of his nine ghosts. Now those who had survived battles against the Red Khan's horde were mostly soldiers who had fled the field carrying terrifying tales of a black robed rider who bore a black sword and could not be slain by arrow or blade. The ancient stronghold of Wahat Binya fell and then the Rhoxolāni were driven out. Worshippers of the God of Fire were being slaughtered at e'ery opportunity. By 1980, all the lands east of the river Rā were 'neath the undisputed control of the Mâh-Sakâ, and their hosts roamed the lands east of the Sea of Rhûn with impunity.
In the following year, it seemed that Targitai Khan had enlisted terrifying new allies. Now whole settlements were emptied and circles of wains were discovered burnt, with not a single body to be found. Companies of cavalry were shot dead ere they even knew they were being attacked. At each of these new engagements, there were some constants. The attacks always occurred south of a line stretching from the Emyn Muil into the east. All their peoples' horses disappeared, all their weapons were taken…and there were ne'er any survivors. Most wondered how such could come to pass.
Three hours past nightfall on 6 Lothron T.A. 1984, and but five leagues east of Sheol at an encampment of five score Wainriders, the night was still and the warriors subdued. In the past, being so close to the fortress of the God of Fire would have conferred a sense of security, but no longer. For the past three months, the attacks on their people had been moving e'er closer. No longer was this war a curse felt only in the further east, for the fear of assault had become real even within an easy day's ride of their God's greatest temple.
Just the past morn, they had come upon the remains of a camp fifteen miles further east, and there they guessed some six score of their fellow warriors and their families had disappeared. The wains and chariots had been reduced to smashed wheels, charred planks, and ash and their horses had vanished. The soldiers encamped tonight had not even been able to give their captain an accurate count of the slain, for they had found no bodies.
Now they had been commanded to maintain their position and e'ery one of them felt fear, for they were being sacrificed, used as bait to tempt their enemies closer to their God and the great Spider that lurked at the center of his web. They were literally trapped 'twixt one terror and another, and most had not decided which they feared more, that which was unknown, or that which was an unnatural horror.
The Spider was ancient, voracious, and merciless. Some whispered that 'twas immortal, and if it had a name, they knew it not, though in the Elder Days, terrified Sindar of Doriath had called it Ungolúróg¹. Like all of Ungoliant's spawn, it cared not whom it ate, stinging, webbing, and then sucking dry the bodies of allies and foes alike with equal disregard. It knew no allegiance save hunger, and not even their God would abide its company for long, coming only whilst 'twas already feeding. The Spider was an ageless terror, long the subject of the most nightmarish lore amongst their people, yet aforetime seldom a real part of their world. 'Twas told that in the past, whole companies who had displeased their master had been driven into Nehemoth, the Spider's tunnels 'neath their god's fortress, ne'er to be seen or heard from again. ¹(Ungolúróg, Dark Spider Demon = ungol(spider) + dúr(dark) + raug(demon) At the partition of proper nouns, -ld becomes –l, and the diphthong –au becomes -ó Sindarin)
The Wainriders were Men of the east who had been born into a tradition of nomadic life, of riding the vast steppe as warriors, united in their hatred of the Dúnedain in the west. A part of their culture was their worship of the God of Fire, who had fore'er been the only deity in their lands and who had been worshipped from time immemorial. Growing up, it had seemed to them a noble tradition, a culture that celebrated freedom and manly action. So it had been to their fathers, when whether in conquest or defeat, they had won respect by dying with honor in battle.
Yet during their lifetimes, that way of life had been betrayed. Rather than joining a horde and riding against enemies massed for battle 'neath the bright light of day, they were losing sleep, for they had no faith that their sentries could raise a timely alarm, or that they could meet these silent and invisible foes and prevail. Many had begun to whisper that 'twas their own god who had set such ghostly enemies upon them. That one of his Nine rode against them was surely proof enough. Their cause seemed hopeless, and whether by the unseen foe, or by being driven in ignominy to their master's monster, they would die without honor or choice. In their hearts, most of them felt they deserved better. Morale was at an all time low and those who tried to sleep at all did so with a drawn sword clenched in their fist.
"The sentries circle deosil. I have counted eight pairs," Helluin whispered to Maglor as they lay in the deep shadow of a boulder some forty-odd yards east of the Wainrider camp.
Maglor gave her a nod of agreement, then whispered, "They have grown more wary of late to have sixteen out of a hundred walking sentry duty."
They shared a grin at that, for their small company of raiders was the cause of that wariness. The Easterlings deemed that more eyes would lead to the timely discovery of their attackers and increase their chances of mounting a defense. Walking a perimeter thirty yards away, three of the eight pairs were visible, pacing side by side, backlit by the watch fires encircling their parked wains and chariots. Illuminated thus, they made excellent targets for archery.
How strongly mortals fear the dark for all that they so readily cleave to it, she thought, far better would they be to walk in darkness 'round a dark camp. Better still would they be to watch from concealment and not walk at all, for the starlight alone paints them as targets. The Laiquendi would ne'er be so stupid.
"Dost thou favor the north or the south?" Maglor asked.
"I shall take the north this night," she replied, "fair shooting, meldir nín."
"I shall take the south then," he answered, "fair shooting, meldis nín."
A few moments later, the shadow lay abandoned.
Half-blinded by the flames of their own watch fires, their mortal eyes confused by the e'er changing tableau of the night-darkened steppe beyond the flickering light, the sentries failed to mark the two dark figures that circled to the north and south. Nor did they mark the two-dozen dark figures that crept, ghostlike, to encircle them. Even to the Moriquendi, the illumination from the fëar of the two Celbin made their positions easy to track. With clarity, they saw them reach positions on opposite sides of the camp and then knock arrows, draw, and take aim on pairs of sentries.
Now 'tis known that the gait of 'aught walking upon two legs causes their heads to bob slightly up and down. Save when they march in stride, their heads bob in time with their gait, each to its own rhythm. Yet when not marching together, the strides of two will align at times, and the positions of their heads then o'erlap. Therefore, Helluin and Maglor waited on that time when the pair of sentries came into stride, and as the head of one eclipsed the other, shot both with a single arrow straight through their temples.
Once they loosed, they awaited the arrival of the next pair as they walked into range, and so four times each whilst their targets circled the camp did Helluin and Maglor shoot pairs of sentries. The Moriquendi quickly dragged away the bodies. After the quarter part of an hour 'twas done. Sixteen of a hundred had been slain in silence and the camp lay unguarded with none the wiser. The Moriquendi, who proffered their recovered arrows, rejoined them for the assault on their resting enemies.
'Naught but a nod was needed to begin the attack. Silent, the Elves invaded the Wainrider camp from all sides. They shot Men through the walls of their tents, or slew with bow and sword those who slept in their wains and on the ground beside their campfires. A few were awake and offered battle, but they were only rarely able to lay a weapon on warriors who had centuries of experience at personal combat.
One by one, the Easterlings were slain. Some woke for a last shocked look at the sword sliding from their chest, or from the impact of the arrow that slammed into their throat or skull. Indeed, so little noise was made and so minimal was the disturbance that the horses remained tranquil at their pickets.
Only when 'twas finished and the beasts were led away from the camp did they realize that something had changed. But then, with soft voices and gentle hands, with words of comfort and thoughts of peace, the animals willingly followed their new masters, whilst in the camp, archers reclaimed their arrows.
In the aftermath, wagons came from the dark steppe and bodies were loaded aboard. Weapons went into a cart and all drove away, heading east into the night. Behind them trailed the train of liberated horses, bound for new lives at the riverside farm and its garrison. With the break of dawn, the winds quickened and began to scour away their tracks.
Four hundred miles to the east lay the river Rā and the farms of the Núrnath. That distance would have required 'nigh three weeks travel for the wagons and the bodies would have festered so badly in the heat that they would have threatened the health of Man and beast. Rather than bringing fertilizer to their riverside fields, the bodies were driven twenty miles to one of the many defiles that ran through the steppe. There the wagons were emptied of their grisly cargo, the rigor stiffened bodies rolling downslope like logs into the dry riverbed at the bottom, whilst three leagues further east lay the bodies from the camp assailed the previous night. Eventually, all that the Wainriders were would be given back to the land.
Helluin and Maglor stood looking o'er the Wainrider camp as the Moriquendi attended to burning 'aught that could be burnt, wains, chariots, and tents. Particular attention was paid to the smashing of wheels, for they were laborious to build and easily reused if left intact. The dark Noldo was staring at the underside of a chariot whose wooden floor and wicker side panels were afire.
"I am still trying to think of an easy and quick way to ruin the axels," Helluin confessed.
"They would just forge replacements anew," Maglor said, grinning at his old friend's malicious attention to detail.
"Aye, they would, but I reckon 'aught that can be done to hamper their capacity to wage war is worthwhile," she said. "I deem it another kind of attrition."
"Um-hmm," he said, "'tis a shame they no longer make their axels of wood."
"Aye, I saw some like that in the Second Age, but all too soon they took to sheathing the ends and wheel hubs with steel, and then to forge whole axels. 'Tis Sauron's fault, I am sure of it."
"Perhaps, though they must have tired of the terrain regularly snapping axels or wearing them out 'til the wheels loosened."
"I am unconvinced of their value in any case, for chariots use two horses and require two Men, and only one of them wields weapons. I would favor two cavalrymen for two horses, so that both riders could shoot."
"Yet a host of chariots makes for a fearsome charge, especially against infantry," Maglor replied.
"In which case they should shoot the lead horse, the one on the left," Helluin said without a moment's hesitation.
The prince sighed. His old friend was as bloodthirsty as e'er whilst he was viscerally averse to harming animals. He knew Helluin esteemed her friend Barq and treated creatures well, but in battle, she would set it all aside to win.
"I would just shoot the driver," Maglor said.
"Aye, thou, me and thy warriors, but mortal Men? They are better off shooting the biggest target they can see whilst barely holding their panic at bay. Indeed, I would have them aim at 'aught that moved rather than throwing down their arms and running."
He could not help laughing at that, and yet at times he had witnessed just that reaction. Rather than pursue the topic though, he asked after another part of their plan.
"I reckon we are now but five leagues from Sheol, meldis nín. Art thou still resolved in scouting it?"
"I would not miss the opportunity for all Arda," Helluin said, offering him a grin. "Whether 'aught can be told of Sauron's presence or not, t'will do me good simply to see the rat's nest and bolt hole of my enemy."
He nodded in understanding. In the centuries since the Ithryn Luin had learnt the location of Sauron's fortress, none had actually looked upon it. He was quite curious himself. They all were. With a glance to the sky, Maglor reckoned that 'nigh five hours of the night remained. They could easily reach Sheol, observe it, and withdraw ere dawn.
"Let us ride then. I would prefer to visit hell in darkness."
"Why? If we are seen by daylight, the Yrch shall be reluctant to pursue us and I wager Men there are few. The Wainriders favor open country, and both they and their master have reason to keep them there."
Maglor thought about her claim a moment and realized there was truth in it. He could not imagine a Wainrider preferring to be cooped up inside a fortress with the cruel and fearsome Tormentor of Thralls and a host of Yrch. Likewise, Sauron would want his most flexible warriors on the frontlines, and on the steppe, that meant those who could cover distances by riding and fight by day or night. Even if many Easterlings were sent charging from the fortress to pursue them, they would have a good head start for their escape.
"Very well, Helluin. Let us ride and I shall not worry for the dawn," he said.
With a smile, Helluin mounted and beside her, Maglor swung up into the saddle. The Moriquendi had been waiting patiently, sitting their horses in silence.
So first we took the road to Rhûn and now we are going straight to hell? Barq asked, sounding curious.
Aye, O Barq. Skator, Sheol…hell is where the devil is, Helluin said. After a pause, she added, we used to call it Udûn, but that is a different hell.
It is said that there are seven gates and seven mansions in hell, O Helluin. The roaring and crackling flames, the boiling waters, the wind that scorches, the suffocating black smoke, the place of wailing laments, the raiment of burning pitch, the charred skin eternally renewed…
Thank you. I believe I get the idea, O Barq, Helluin said, rolling her eyes.
Shall we be on our way then?
With a nod from Helluin, Barq set our 'cross the steppe at a trot and the rest of the company followed. They continued for just o'er three hours alternating walk and trot, and covered the fifteen miles with 'nigh two hours remaining ere dawn.
They came to the end of their ride and looked down from the crest of a low encircling ridge. 'Neath them lay a circular plain a league 'cross, desolate, speckled with rubble, and blackened as if by fire, from which hopelessness seeped as does sap from an injured tree. At random places, fumaroles vented thin streams of heated vapors, sulfur the most easily marked, but also ammonia and methane. All of these contributed to slowly drifting banks of haze that hung in the air and gifted a toxic atmosphere to the depressing tableau.
At the center of the plain stood a low rise sheared off flat 'cross its top, and upon that spur rose the walls and tower of a fortress of black stone. Within those walls, a temple stood beside the tower, circular and domed, its outermost wall a continuous colonnade wherein each column was carved in the form of a body impaled upright from anus to throat. The sharp eyes of the Elves marked the vent at the dome's apex. A dim glow emanated from within whence rose a column of smoke. 'Twas all too reminiscent of a volcano, simmering with potential violence as it bided the time 'til its next eruption.
Several holes opened 'nigh the base of the rocky spur, the darkness within them blacker than shadows in the night. Whether they were the entrances to dungeons, catacombs, a water source, or some infernal workplace of Sauron's, there was no clue save that they were unguarded.
No fear of sappers or infiltration has the Lord of Lies, Helluin thought, and that realization made her very suspicious. Perhaps they are portals to Nehemoth of which Pallando spoke. Perhaps they are guarded by things more fell than Wainriders or Orcs.
The Elves regarded the fortress with loathing. Black was the land and black were the walls, though from windows made miniscule by the distance, faint lights winked. Within Skator some lived. The night breeze brought the faint scent of roasting meat to their noses. They had little doubt that it came from the temple wherein some others died. In the topmost chamber of the tower were holes as black as the holes in the ground outside the fortress' walls. They were great windows that looked out from the utter blackness of Sauron's spirit. Therein a sleepless malice kept watch on distant lands, biding its time and measuring its strength.
The walls of Sheol hosted two gates, the greater facing west, the lesser facing east. Having come from the east, they gazed upon the lesser gate, but lesser though 'twas, still it stood tall and forbidding, possessed of great strength. No less a ram than the Fist of Tulkas that had broken the gates of Minas Ithil in the War of the Last Alliance would force that way. Yet it mattered not for now, for they had neither the manpower, nor an engine of war to carry out a frontal assault. Even so, e'ery one of them committed all they saw to their flawless memories, for a day would come when Sheol would be laid 'neath siege.
Some further details the Elves marked. There were no fields surrounding the fortress. No slaves grew crops and no thralls tended livestock. There were no captives' hovels beyond the walls. No sign of life could be seen save the lighted windows, and from these, no sounds came. The silence of the graveyard held sway o'er all, as if the living emulated the dead and the dead spoke not. Gazing down into the crater of Sheol, one could truly believe 'twas the Land of No Return and e'ery living thing in its clutches longed for surcease of their torment.
No need did the Elves feel to circumnavigate the plain. Its circumference was 'nigh ten miles and would take hours, during each minute of which they would feel a growing nausea from the prolonged confrontation with such ugliness and evil. The feeling of being unwell would become a torment, just as it had for Helluin in an Age before when she had first viewed Udûn and the Black Land of Mordor. None wished to endure such torment and they deemed there was 'naught more to learn from other views of the same dismal landscape. Even so, Helluin would linger a while, for she craved to see the fortress by daylight, and perhaps learn a bit more of those black pits that lay 'round the base of the crater's central spur. They bothered her, yet she knew not why.
"Meldir nín, pray lead thy warriors from the sight of this abomination," she said to Maglor. "I would linger a while to view those pits by daylight. I find myself suspicious of them, though I know not whyfor. Ne'ertheless, no others need endure this revolting scene for the sake of my curiosity."
Maglor looked closely at his old friend. She was staring at the fortress, her eyes lit with a glint of morbid fascination, much as would a young ellon ere poking a carcass with a stick. She was also subtly gritting her teeth, surely as sickened by the landscape as was he himself.
"I shall order the warriors to leave the sight of this place, but they shall remain 'nigh and I shall await the dawn with thee," he said. "I should like a clearer view of the tower."
Helluin gave him a glance, unsure if he was only trying to humor her, but all she saw was concern for her and curiosity about the fortress. She nodded in agreement and then settled down to wait and watch. Maglor withdrew for a short time and conferred with the commander of the Moriquendi. They were only too happy to take their leave. They returned to their mounts, shouldered their bows, and prepared to ride east where they would await the return of the Celbin. When the prince rejoined her, Helluin had not moved. She was still staring west towards the spur and the black walls.
"They shall ride a mile and await us there," he said as he settled on the ground beside her.
Helluin nodded to him and have him a small grin that conveyed her thanks. Together they passed an hour in silence, and for the simple benefit of a pause from enduring so dismal a setting, they rolled onto their backs and instead looked up at the stars. When the horizon in the east began to brighten, they returned to survey the fortress, marking that 'naught had changed.
Now Helluin searched in her travel bag and drew forth a tube of blackened brass the length of her hand and a couple inches thick. She removed scraps of leather from each end revealing a pair of finely shaped lenses of clear glass. Then she brought the telescope to her eye and adjusted it by extending the further end, for 'twas constructed as a tube within a tube and could almost double in length. With the aid of the Ithryn Luin and the Elvish craftsmen of their citadel, many improvements had been made to Targitai's far-seeing device. When she had achieved a sharp focus, she examined the tower, the temple, and the other buildings within the walls. In a short segment of street outside one building, she marked some figures walking with a shuffling gait.
"Yrch!" She hissed 'neath her breath. She handed the instrument to Maglor and he set it to his eye, made a slight adjustment, and then scanned the fortress.
"There are Men as well," he noted, "Wainriders, and they are scared."
The light grew brighter as Anor crested the eastern horizon. Light spread 'cross the circular plain and the long shadows cast from the eastern side of the encircling ridge began to shorten. The dark of night grudgingly withdrew as the shadow of the fortress slowly retreated towards its source. The entirety of Sheol was 'naught but a great sundial. Maglor handed the telescope back to Helluin, already feeling queasy from the closer viewing.
The dark Noldo resumed her survey of Skator, paying particular attention to the windows in the top of the tower. Despite the raking light of dawn, they remained black as if 'naught but night could exist therein. 'Twas no natural shadow, she deemed. She watched a while, but no change came and 'naught moved within. Finally, she lowered the telescope to view the base of the walls and sought for the holes.
With the sun at such a low angle, the light penetrated down each opening a ways, illuminating a part of their entrances. From other things she had seen at that distance, she was now willing to hazard a guess as to their size.
"Four fathoms 'cross they are and all the same in size," she said softly. "They are not random and I wager they are not natural either. I wonder if Sauron has coaxed were-worms to dwell 'neath his redoubt?"
"I would doubt it not, meldis nín, for many fell and evil things gravitate to him," Maglor said.
Helluin removed the telescope from her eye and again searched in her travel bag. Finally, she withdrew a pouch and from it took what looked like a small metal tumbler with a glass bottom. The body fit closely to the far end of the tube, and the glass within it was shaped slightly convex on its outside and concave within to exactly match the profile of the lens at the end of her telescope. With the addition of the enhancer, the magnification was doubled and she refocused ere returning to examining the holes.
A sharp hiss came from 'twixt her clenched teeth.
"There are strands. 'Tis webbing!"
She set the telescope in Maglor's hand and closed her eyes a moment to inhale deeply. The holes measured twenty-four feet and the interiors were lined with spider silk. The monster or monsters that lurked there would be huge. After a moment's thought she reckoned 'twas only one, for such beasts would indiscriminately eat kin, mates, and offspring 'til only one remained. 'Twas just such a creature that had caused the darkening of Valinor, had sucked the life and Light from the Two Trees, and if this was not Ungoliant, then 'twas close kin.
With a cry of rage, Helluin surged up, fey and consumed with hate. Her body burst into an incandescence of silver and gold and sapphire battle fire lit her eyes. Upon a time, if not for her attendance at a feast, she might have raised an alarm and brought down the strength of Aman on Morgoth and his foul ally. On that day, she might have hindered their assault, and even if the cost had been her own life, 'twas a trade she would have made in a heartbeat.
Helluin came to her feet, took a single step, and fell flat on her face as Maglor tackled her to the ground. He had wrapped both arms tight 'round her legs and he clung there like a tick in a dog's ear. Face down, Helluin could only kick to free herself, but all the strength of her legs was insufficient to throw off Maglor's weight or break the grip of his arms. Had she been on her back, she would have drawn weapons against him, so enraged was she. Upon a time, she had challenged Sauron from the very doorway of the Sammath Naur and finally he had come, but an Eagle had foiled her plan and her enemy had escaped her wrath that day. Now another friend had constrained her from combat with an enemy no less reviled.
It took o'er the sixth part of an hour ere Helluin acknowledged the fruitlessness of her struggle. Maglor had held on with e'ery ounce of his strength, and he had held firm despite repeatedly being lifted into the air and bounced off the ground as Helluin kicked and tried to dislodge him. In the meantime, they had raised a cloud of dust, lit from within by the ril of Light from Helluin's incandescent rage. By the time she gave up, e'ery eye in Sheol had marked the disturbance.
"I wager 'tis time to withdraw, meldis nín," Maglor gasped, spitting grit off his tongue.
The dark Noldo looked up and saw a roiling cloud of black vapor protruding from the upper windows of the tower. Sauron had taken notice and 'twas as if his high chamber was no longer spacious enough to contain him. Helluin groaned, seeing her greatest enemy fuming in safety.
"Oh alright, 'meldir nín'," she spat as she raised herself up on her elbows.
Finally sure that she would not simply stand up and charge again, Maglor released her and stood, dusting off his garments and stooping to retrieve the fallen telescope. Helluin rolled to her feet, gave the fortress a long look, and then turned her back on the crater. Shaking her head at having to leave Sauron and probably a giant spider behind unchallenged, she swatted a cloud of dust from her armor and then disassembled her telescope. A last glance back at the fortress revealed no pursuit.
The two Noldor walked back down the outer slope of the encircling rise in silence, Helluin fuming and Maglor reluctant to open a conversation in which he reckoned his head would be chewed off with bitter words. They came to their horses and mounted to ride and rejoin the Moriquendi. Half the distance passed ere 'aught was said.
"'Tis hard to thank thee for staying me from a fey charge, my old friend, but the words shall come to me in time," Helluin finally admitted.
"Take thy time, old friend," Maglor replied. In the scheme of a deathless life, a few days to process her disappointment was acceptable to him.
"I must speak with Alatar and Pallando. There are arrangements to be made," she said.
The prince of the Noldor looked to her but voiced no questions and she offered no answers. Together they rejoined the Moriquendi and the company rode east. On the following day, they met the wagons and carts that had begun their slower return to the citadel of the Ithryn Luin after dumping the bodies of the slain Wainriders. Together, the party spent the next score days traveling the four hundred miles back to the river Rā. By then, Helluin had apologized and thanked Maglor and the tension 'twixt them had faded.
In Sheol, Sauron had watched the two Noldor disappear o'er the crest of the crater rim. He deemed it an inauspicious way to start the day. As they had taken their leave to the east, he reckoned that his soldiers encamped in that direction had been slain. It vexed him, for the Elves were killing his mortals faster than they could reproduce.
For a while, he contemplated a forced breeding program, perhaps crossbreeding Wainriders with Yrch. The thought brought forth a chuckle. The Wainrider women were feisty, and the image of them pinioned in the rutting chambers as his stud Yrch took turns would be entertaining. Their use as brood mares would be particularly good for morale because the two cadres despised each other so deeply. Horses kept disappearing into the stewpots of his Yrch at night and Yrch kept getting shot or speared during the day. He would relish the conflict whilst both kindreds cowered within the walls, fearing the horror of the spider should they set foot beyond the gate.
Of the Noldor, he was certain that one had been his arch foe Helluin Maeg-mórmenel. He had not been forced to endure her presence for millennia, thank Morgoth, but it seemed she had discovered his refuge at last and she would not forget. Sooner or later his fortress would be attacked, he just knew it.
Gorthaur recalled the defeats she had wrought on poor Murazor, thrice now in Eriador. His suffering in 1851 had looked particularly painful. The wraith had returned spiritually burnt to a crisp. Sauron shuddered at that memory in spite of himself. Then he pondered how Helluin might assail his fortress. Would she infiltrate by stealth as she had the Barad-dûr? Would she enlist the aid of her allies, the horde of the Red Khan for a siege? Would she bedevil him with some unforeseen scheme, unimaginable aforetime?
For well 'nigh the millionth time, he wished he could see her, as he could most of the other Noldor, but for an Age, Helluin had concealed her fëa from his eye. Unlike the brilliant but miniscule flares of Light the other Noldor were revealed as by his Maia sight, she was simply invisible. If only he had been able to o'ercome her and wrench the Sarchram to his will, he thought yet again. Eventually, he dwelt on his sole triumph o'er her, his transformation of Beinvír. Whether or not the Green Elf yet lived, he knew not. Indeed he cared not, so long as Helluin was equally ignorant.
Sauron deemed that an arms race was now afoot. In Mordor, his nine servants had been breeding Yrch for o'er a century and their numbers had grown very great. In perhaps another decade or two, they would be ready to strike. When that time came, he would abandon Sheol and return to Dol Guldur. He would leave the east and the threat of Helluin and her allies behind.
Finally, Sauron turned his gaze west, to the banks of the Anduin where a search continued. If I but had my Ring, he thought, no doubts would I endure.
Now when they arrived back at the citadel, Helluin took counsel with the Blue Wizards and a design was drawn up. The Noldo was recalling a weapon that she and Glorfindel had used to break the leaguer of Imladris. O'er the following months, experiments were conducted and the results assessed. A small-scale model was constructed, and with it, Helluin burnt a hole through a sample of steel armor. 'Twas then 12 Urui of 1986. Following that success, the Ithryn's iron and brass mongers, the crystal smiths and lens grinders, the mirror and lamp wrights, the fabricators and yokesters were all gathered and set to the task. Slowly and with surpassing care, they produced a full-scale version of the model instrument. Ere they were done, the year 1984 was long ended and the year 1994 begun.
4 Gwirith T.A. 1994 found the Ithryn Luin, Helluin, and Maglor surrounded by a throng of gawking soldiers in the inner bailey of the wizard's citadel. There, a small cart with a bed measuring three rangar in both length and breadth had been parked and its two wheels chocked. At the front, its paired shafts were propped up so the bed was horizontal. Helluin and a most curious arrangement of paraphernalia occupied it.
On the left side was rigged horizontally a half-tube of mithril plated sheet steel half the cart's bed in length. The curved inner surface was polished to a flawless, mirror finish. 'Twas tilted slightly downwards from level. Before it mid-cart was a narrow, padded seat upon which Helluin sat, feeling horribly self-conscious, and a T-shaped brace towards the cart's rear upon which she rested her ankles. The whole elevated her body o'er the cart's bed so that she was centered before the mirrored half-tube.
On the right side of the wagon, tilted to face the mirrored tube was a smaller half-tube, its curved inner face also sheathed in mirror-polished mithril. Within it, at what would be the center of its arc, was a three-inch diameter rod of clear glass, a ranga in length, its sides glossy and its ends capped with mirror-polished mithril. In the cap pointed out the rear of the cart, a hole of a finger's diameter was centered, through which the bare, smooth end of the glass rod could be seen.
"Are we ready?" Pallando asked. "We shall require the full measure of thy power, Helluin."
He looked 'round the circle and received a nod 'aye' from Helluin and each of the principal witnesses. Alatar was lowering a pair of wooden goggles o'er his eyes, each of which had a narrow slit cut in it, much like those worn by the Lossoth to reduce the sun's glare off the ice and snow.
"Let us proceed then," he said, then glanced at Helluin and added, "if thou would…?"
With a nod, the dark Noldo bent forward and clasped her ankles with her hands and bringing her face 'nigh her knees. Maglor and Pallando squinted. Helluin burst into a radiant ril blending silver and gold, flaring with the Light of the Two Trees. Half the incandescence of her body was immediately reflected from the large half-tubular mirror into the smaller mirror 'cross the cart bed, save for what struck the glass rod from her body directly. The smaller tubular mirror reflected its light to the far side of the glass rod so that its entire surface was bombarded by the glare of the Light of Aman. 'Round the cart, the gathered crowd of soldiers, Men and Elves, recoiled and shielded their eyes. Blinded thus, they missed the beam of concentrated Light that lanced from the rear of the rod, struck the far side of the inner curtain wall and pierced it, crossed the outer bailey and then struck the outer curtain wall as well.
Upon seeing the beam, Helluin had ceased her flaring, and the short-lived pulse of Light from the rod ceased as well. Alatar lowered his goggles whilst Pallando and Maglor raised their heads. As a group, they walked 'cross the inner bailey to examine the perfectly round hole piercing the sandstone blocks of the inner curtain wall. Alatar put his eye to the hole, confirming that it had passed through and struck the outer wall. When he looked back to the others, a broad smile shaped his lips.
"A resounding success, my friends!" He jubilantly announced.
Maglor, Pallando, and finally Helluin took turns looking through the hole. They traded smiles. A weapon of surpassing potency they had crafted in but ten years.
"T'would seem our efforts are rewarded, mellyn nín," Helluin said, "and I see no reason to remain naked." She stalked off toward the cart to recover her battle dress, boots, and armor.
Author's Notes: If Sauron had a proper name amongst the Easterlings, I cannot recall reading of it. They certainly would not have called him Sauron, ('Abhorred One' Quenya root saura with Sindarin adj. agent suff. -on), Gorthaur, ('The Cruel', lit. Abhorrent Fear in Sindarin), or any other name in an Elven tongue, ('Annatar', 'Mairon', 'Artano', Aulendil', for example), nor would they have used the hated Dúnedain Zigûr ('Wizard' in Adûnaic), by which he was known whilst subverting Ar-Pharazôn in Númenor. His other epithets attested in canon are given in English, which I take to mean that they were rendered from Common Speech, Westron, by the Periannath, (The Dark Lord, The Lord of the Rings, The Necromancer, The Shadow in the East).
The Easterlings had been confederations of semi-allied tribes under Sauron's dominion, but they were not his creations as the Nazgûl, Yrch, and Olog-hai were. I do not even believe that most of them spoke the Black Speech of Mordor. Even if they did, I cannot recall any name in Black Speech for Sauron that is attested in canon. I seem to remember in LotR that it was said Sauron did not allow his minions to speak his name, and so they called him 'The Eye'.
In the East, (and the South), Men had long been dominated by Morgoth and later Sauron, whom they regarded as both king and god. Sauron may have used one of his Second Age titles (King of Kings, Lord of the Earth, King of Men), but in canon these are never rendered in a native tongue, and they were originally taken as a goad to the Númenóreans. Ar-Pharazôn responded by bringing a huge army to Umbar and marching on Mordor where he took Sauron hostage. In Númenor, Sauron created a Cult of Melkor, converted the King's Men to the worship of Darkness, and built a temple where the wood of Nimloth kindled the first altar fire and many of the Faithful were sacrificed. (On pg.333 in Akallabêth, it is only just before Ar-Pharazôn's armada sails for Aman that JRRT explicitly says human sacrifices were burnt, "…and Sauron withdrew into the inmost circle of the Temple, and men brought him victims to be burned.").
Men were newly risen in Hildórien when Morgoth first found them. Few aspects of nature are more compelling to primitive Men than fire. That Morgoth would claim himself god of that phenomenon is easy to imagine, and that Sauron would inherit that theological tradition is also easy to imagine. With this reasoning in mind, and lack of conflicting evidence, I have chosen to have the Easterlings call Sauron the God of Fire, though they could as easily have called him the God of Darkness.
To Be Continued