In An Age Before – Part 221
Now after spending several hours resting her mind and viewing the stars, Helluin rose from her ground cloth of Przewalski horse pelts, but rather than hunting Yrch, she reexamined Ungolúróg's carcass. Foremost, she was curious about how best to clean the sections of the spider's exoskeleton so that they could be used in the fabrication of armor.
With a sword taken from a fallen Wainrider, she poked at the green slime that filled the hewn legs still attached to the body shell. She found the material was easily scraped away and in some places it even fell away, sloughing off like steamed crab meat and requiring little effort at all.
It seemed that the oft heard childhood belief that 'bugs are filled with gush' had proved at least partially true. The slimy matter within the spider's body was wholly uniform. After performing a crude dissection, the Noldo could not detect any specialization at all. There seemed to be no muscles, no organs, and no differentiated tissues of any kind. A detailed examination of its head revealed no throat or digestive tract leading from its mouth. When she coaxed the contents out onto the ground, she could find no brain, nor 'aught connected to its many eyes. Helluin was confounded and could only shake her head at that.
How in the names of the Valar could such a creature live? She wondered. The spider's lack of 'anatomy' flew in the face of her lifetime's understanding of the construction of animals.
By then, she had drawn the interest of some Elves who had also remained awake, and these gathered in a loose circle 'round her, just as curious and no less perplexed at what they saw.
Helluin hefted the severed section of a leg, and after grasping it by its 'foot', held it upright with the open end down and gave it a sharp jerk. The entire contents of the exoskeleton from tarsal to tibia shed itself free from the shell with a soft, viscous 'gush' sound and fell out onto the ground where it stood a moment, jiggling like a molded gelatin ere it collapsed o'er onto its side. Helluin shook her head at that as the other Elves muttered in surprise. When she looked inside, the exoskeleton of the lower leg was completely empty and now weighed but a trifle.
O'er the next quarter-hour, the Noldo emptied the contents of the remaining seven severed leg sections, and these she set aside. Helluin could still barely believe how bizarre the whole experience had been. She deemed that in a few hours, she would be able to clean and claim all the parts of Ungolúróg's exoskeleton that she desired. In the end, she enlisted the aid of the Umanyar who had gathered to watch the spectacle and 'twas an experience none of them would soon forget. When they had completed the cleaning, mostly by hefting and shaking the parts to shed the slime, they aided her in loading the exoskeleton onto a wagon just as Anor broke the horizon.
The camp of the allies came to life as the dawn of 16 Urui brightened. During the night, both the Mâh-Sakâ host and the Blue Wizards' army had moved their supply trains within the encircling ridge. Mess tents were raised, field kitchens erected, and latrine pits dug. The blacksmiths and armorers set up their forges and repair tables. Soldiers broke their fasts and stowed their tents and gear. They were eager to begin razing Sauron's fortress and clearing whatsoe'er enemies remained within.
T'would have been a moot question to ask who bore the greater animosity. The Mâh-Sakâ had prosecuted a holy war against the God of Fire for a generation, and many of their warriors had come of age knowing 'naught else. To them, Sauron was Satan and his worshippers were blasphemers, idolaters, and infidels, damned in life and to be treated with extreme prejudice in battle. To the Elves and Men in the service of the Ithryn Luin, Sauron had been tormentor as much as foe. Many of the mortals were the scions of generations of slaves from Núrn. Many of the Umanyar had been similarly enslaved, including some that Helluin had liberated from the dungeons of the Barad-dûr in an Age before. They despised Sauron, his Nazgûl, the Yrch, and any Men who worshipped and served him. Maglor and the few other Noldor bore an ancient hatred for Gorthaur that had grown from his service to Morgoth in the First Age, and the litany of his transgressions had only grown longer o'er the years since.
By the opening of the second hour after dawn, most of the host had gathered outside the west gate of the fortress. Drawn up on the ascending slope of the west road directly before it, and beyond the range of the Orkish bows, was the small cart bearing E-ngúrglaw. The shattered original glass rod had been replaced following the battle and after its shards were sufficiently cool to touch. As the allies had brought no ram, nor any other engines of siege, only Helluin and Maglor could encompass the breaking of the gate.
On the road leading down from the eastern gate, a smaller contingent of allies stood guard to thwart any attempt at flight. Fifty thousand bows were trained on that entrance to the fortress and e'ery archer sought for a target.
Thus far, viewing the fortress through their telescopes had revealed only a sparse company of Yrch cowering away from the sunlight behind the battlements atop the walls and gatehouses. There were sure to be far more lurking in the shadows, or within the buildings inside the fortress. Regarding such dangers, the Blue Wizards offered counsel to the host.
"As the fortress stands elevated upon a spur of rock, ye can be assured that many tunnels shall be found within," Pallando warned, "and such subterranean ways shall host the warrens and lairs of the Yrch."
"We need not tell ye to be wary therein," Alatar added, "for those tunnels may communicate with the realm of the spider and lead down into Nehemoth."
"Regard with care any prisoners found therein and most especially any who might be known to ye, for they may not be as they seem," Pallando added. "Sauron is mighty in sorcery and revels in betrayal and deceit. Of old, he commanded phantoms for to trick the eye and the heart."
Me, I would keep it simple and tell them to slay 'aught that moves, Helluin thought to herself.
In reaction to her sentiment, Alatar chuckled and Pallando allowed himself a grin. Helluin rolled her eyes, reminding herself that like Mithrandir, they were Maiar and perceived much in the minds of those 'round them.
Helluin added one further morsel of advice.
"Whilst none of ye mistake the Yrch for 'aught but blood foes, they regard ye as both foes and meat for the stewpot. Rejoice to slay them. In their tongue is no word for 'friend', for to them that concept is foreign and worthy only of ridicule. Their greeting to another of their kind is, Ashdautas Vrasubatlat, 'One day I will kill you,' and the expected reply is Nar Udautas, 'Not today'. In all things, they weigh gain against survival. Press them and slay them, and they will flee, for they deem they owe 'naught to an absent master. Duty and honor drive them not, only fear of punishment, hunger, and hatred, all of which can be o'ercome with viciousness. Fair hunting."
The Mâh-Sakâ had received the wizards' words with both looks of uncertainty and grim determination. They received Helluin's words with gritted teeth and clasped the tighter the hilts of their swords. At a nod from Alatar, Helluin burst into a blaze of Light and Maglor traced 'round the margins of the gate with the beam from E-ngúrglaw. The Death Ray etched wood, metal, and stone, cleaving the stout hinges and the iron banding that reinforced the sturdy door timbers, and the gates of Sheol collapsed inwards with a resounding crash, leaving a gaping opening in the walls.
As a cloud of smoke from the scorching of wood and metal drifted into the bailey behind the gate, the allied host charged forward with the thunder of hooves and a multitude of voices raised in battle cries. Some fell, shot by those Yrch that remained in the gatehouse and on the walls, but most passed into Sheol brandishing swords, axes, and spears, and screaming for blood.
Alas, save for the bailey behind the west gate, Sheol t'would seem, had been created by Sauron exclusively for foot traffic. There were no grand avenues, no level plazas, and no spacious parks. Almost immediately, the cavalry was confronted with narrow, twisting alleys filled with irregular staircases, narrow and rickety rope bridges, and walkways along the sides of buildings that imitated precipitous cliff side paths. There were deep, open pits, tall dividing walls, and many dead end lanes. Most of the buildings had external staircases leading up to their entrances, few windows on ground floors, and many keyhole embrasures for archers.
After the first few thousand Mâh-Sakâ had charged through the gate, they became so tightly compressed in the bailey that no more could enter. They milled in that courtyard, seeking for ways to exit deeper into the fortress. The few who rode into alleys soon found themselves facing dead ends, staircases, or plunges into pits, and worse, the alleys were so narrow that they were unable to turn their horses about. Like those in the bailey, they were subject to the sniping of hidden archers, and 'twas only due to the paucity of defenders that a slaughter was not inflicted.
It took o'er half an hour to withdraw the four thousand-odd horsemen at the cost of frustration, bewilderment, and o'er two hundreds shot dead. During that time, the allies had slain not a single Orch. The initial invasion of the fortress was an unmitigated disaster.
"Well, that could have gone better," Helluin muttered to Maglor as they watched the last of the Mâh-Sakâ riding out of the fallen gate.
"Sauron is e'er deceptive, meldis nín," the prince said. "Cavalry tactics are questionable in a city in any case. 'Tis infantry that must win the fight within the walls."
"Aye, meldir nín, only by combat house to house shall Sheol be taken. Come, we must speak with the wizards and the khātūn."
'Twas with those same thoughts in mind, that the Ithryn Luin had gathered Tahmirih, Lipoksai, Kolaksai, and Targitai, and they were holding a council of war.
"We must recover our fallen," Tahmirih was saying as Helluin and Maglor joined them. "I would not that our dead be defiled by the goblins."
"That needs be accomplished ere nightfall," Helluin said, "for in the darkness, Men and horses shall become their feast."
"We must invade the fortress afoot and clear each building one by one," Pallando told them.
"A quarter-million warriors we can send within the walls," Lipoksai said, his eyes flashing in anger at the thought of his riders being treated like butchered livestock.
"Thou command a sufficient count to o'erwhelm the enemy with numbers," Alatar said, "though I wager thy losses shall be significant. T'will be an unfamiliar mode of combat to thy Men, invading the fastness of those long at home there and bred for such warfare."
"I shall lead my warriors in the van," Maglor said, "for we are trained to stealth and night fighting. Within the windowless dens of Sheol, t'will be as dark as a moonless night."
And Helluin called to mind the century and a quarter she had spent haunting the Hithaeglir and terrifying the Yrch. A dark grin shaped her lips and she nodded to herself, but held her peace.
"Bring many torches, but light the fewest at any one time required to provide light sufficient for hunting," Alatar advised, "for ye shall be hunters in a strange forest, not warriors upon a field of battle."
The Mâh-Sakâ nodded and looked to each other. T'would be a strange mode of warfare to them indeed.
"I beg ye give me an hour's lead ere invading Skator," Helluin said. "I shall leave at once."
The others stared at her, some deeming her fey, and others o'erborne by her hatred of the Yrch. The dark Noldo met their eyes and captured their consciousness. Those who had experienced the viewing of memories with her aforetime knew what to expect. The Maiar knew this mode of communication from Aman. All of them waited on her visions and only to Lipoksai was being subsumed in the will of another fearsome and strange. What he saw after was worse.
The darkness was absolute and the surrounding silence was so complete that soft breaths and heartbeats seemed like thunder in his ears. From somewhere 'nigh came the stench of death, both old and new. He felt the chill of a deep cavern, felt the rough floor of a tunnel 'neath his boots, and sensed the solid walls 'nigh his elbows. How deep 'neath the ground he stood, there was no way to tell. He suppressed his natural fears of darkness and claustrophobia, and the sensation of unimaginable weight o'erhead, so different from the open steppe.
This tunnel lies two miles 'neath the summit of Methedras, the southernmost peak of the Misty Mountains. I hunted the Yrch in this range for o'er six score years. 'Tis 8 Narbeleth, 1973, and in the endless dark I have slain 'nigh sixteen thousands, Lipoksai heard Helluin's voice declare in his mind.
Ere his shock at that claim could fade, he sensed the approach of a company, stealthy by nature, though far from silent. They cursed and bickered in subdued voices, harsh and guttural. Their shuffling footsteps scuffed the rough-hewn floor. A glance down at the bluish glow on the blade of a dagger slid a hand's breadth from its scabbard removed any doubts.
Yrch, Lipoksai heard her confirm, a dozen sent to seek those comrades their captain deems deserters. In defeat, they shall successfully complete their task.
Distant now, the wavering light of a lazily burning torch seemed a painful glare as it revealed their approach 'round a corner in the tunnel. He could already smell the smoke, the unburnt fuel, and the stench of the Yrch's bodies, his senses more acute than e'er aforetime. Quickly he advanced to the corner and pressed flat against the tunnel wall, scarcely breathing. Lipoksai felt her right hand draw the Black Sword and her left hand lift the Sarchram. Targitai's eldest son could feel their eagerness for battle and their craving for blood, and in his mind, Helluin bid them be patient as the Yrch drew 'nigh.
They came to the corner, and rather than immediately marking her and raising an alarm, the first half-dozen simply walked past, wholly oblivious. He was astonished.
Into their midst Helluin spun, Anguirél extended in her right hand to hew the heads from the closest pair who had just passed. She completed her turn to face the rear of the group, slitting the throats of the nearest pair still approaching the corner. With her left hand, she cast the Sarchram at the surviving four who had passed her moments ago. The bright Ring split the skull of one, ricocheted from his helm to slice the face from a second, and then skipped off the tunnel wall to slice the throats of the last two. During that time, Helluin had spun again, beheading the next closet pair. She held out her left hand and caught the returning Sarchram, then lunged forward with both arms extended. The Black Sword plunged into the belly of the last Orch of her right, and the Sarchram hewed the neck of the last Orch on her left.
In the flickering light of the fallen torch, she slid her sword from the whimpering Orch and then she blazed with Light. The tunnel leapt into full view as if 'twas open to the midday sun. A dozen new bodies lay in a bloody tangle, whilst past them whence she had come, the tunnel floor was littered with carcasses and limbs. Lipoksai was astonished at the carnage.
In 1851, an elleth disappeared from Nanduhirion. Tell me all thou know of this, Helluin demanded of the surviving Orch.
He clutched his impaled belly, but what she asked had come to pass ere his life began and he knew 'naught. Rather than plead for her mercy or offer any answer, he bit his tongue 'til blood filled his mouth, and then he chuckled at her. In response, she simply shook her head and then wet her hand with his blood. On the wall of the tunnel she wrote, Im belthant huiniath!¹ ¹(Im belthant huiniath! I killed them all! Sindarin)
With a blink, the vision ended and they sat 'neath the bright mid-morning sun outside the fortress of Sheol. Two decades had passed since the slaughter.
"Give me an hour's lead ere ye invade Skator," Helluin asked again as she got to her feet.
The last they saw of her that day was but the sixth part of an hour later. A figure cloaked in a tattered black cloak, hood drawn up, a quiver of black arrows and a bow of black steel o'er one shoulder, slipped through the broken gateway of the fortress. For a moment, the figure paused at the threshold and raised a hand, a single finger in a segmented gauntlet pointed to the sun as if to say, 'mark the time'. Then, in the blink of an eye, the figure disappeared.
Beyond the walls, the allied hosts of the Mâh-Sakâ and the Blue Wizards milled, restless and eager to again invade Skator. They had been frustrated in their first attempt and felt anger on behalf of those lost in the attempt. Now hatred for their enemies was augmented by the desire to redress the frustration of their earlier retreat.
An hour's head start Helluin had requested, and during that hour, the leaders of the allied force gave orders to their hosts. They set the goals and the manner in which they would meet the enemy and clear them from the fortress. Mortal Men would enter and concentrate their actions to the west. The Elves would invade the buildings to the east.
Next to enter after Helluin would be Maglor and the Umanyar from the Ithryn Luin's citadel. There would be a hundred companies of two dozen, each with a captain, two and one-half thousands all told. Their manner of warfare would translate to urban combat more easily than the cavalry of the steppes.
Following their assault on Avernien in an Age before, the Fëanorian host had been met in the woodlands of Ossiriand by the King of the Laiquendi and his people. The Noldor had suspected 'naught of their presence ere the king had seemed to appear out of leaves and shadows, and from that single meeting, the stealth of the Green Elves had impressed the prince for millennia after. Eventually, Maglor had assayed to train other Elves in the best approximation of that stealth that he could muster. He suspected that he had fallen short, though his troops regularly confounded the eyes of mortal foes.
A thousand years of the Third Age had passed ere he had met Helluin and Beinvír Laiquende on a field of battle in Rhovanion. Afterwards, they had related their histories since he and his brother had parted from Helluin following the War of Wrath, and he had seen firsthand what the legacy of Ossiriand had become. Once Beinvír had recovered consciousness, she had been hard to see and harder to follow whilst simply moving 'round their temporary camp. There had been an ethereal quality to her presence, so ingrained as to be effortless and natural. Helluin had learnt that quality and could disappear if the notion took her, but she was Noldor and he could perceive the difference. An enemy ne'er would.
'Twas two hours ere noon when Helluin entered the fortress. Many Yrch on the walls and in the gatehouse had marked her approach. They had readied their bows and followed her as she passed the gate, but after a short pause, she had crossed through a shadow and ne'er reappeared. In vain they had sought for her, and with increasing foreboding, they had failed. Within five minutes, the first of their bodies had been flung from windows, then from the battlements on the walls, and finally from the tops of the gate towers. The doors from the wall walks were barred from within the gate towers so none could reinforce or reoccupy them. Then, Helluin had moved on.
In the buildings encircling the bailey, Yrch died and few of them e'er saw their killer. They had found no targets and had fired no shafts. There had been no clashes of blades. Seldom did they even mark that they were being attacked at all. In the aftermath, their blood decorated the walls of the first rooms inside the entrance doors, where words had been scrawled in the Elvish tongue, Im belthant huiniath!
These declarations were found by Maglor and the Umanyar when they entered the fortress in the hour ere noon, and after reading that message the first few times, they deemed such buildings emptied of foes. In the beginning, they found themselves following in Helluin's wake, but soon they spread beyond the swath she had cut, for their numbers allowed them to range wider and wreck more havoc against their foes. They maintained their stealth long enough to encircle or set an ambush, but they shot and hewed down the Yrch in plain sight once the fighting began. Though their foes knew they were being assailed, they could not evade the flawlessly aimed arrows, or defend long against the whistling blades of the Elves.
At noon, the Mâh-Sakâ and the mortal warriors in the service of the Blue Wizards entered the gates and they rampaged through the buildings on the west side of the fortress. The sounds of fighting and battle cries carried amidst the twisting lanes and narrow alleys. When the Mâh-Sakâ came upon their own dead, they carried them back to the gate where they were added to the field morgue of the recovered slain. And each time a body was taken out of the fortress, the remaining Men gritted their teeth and reinforced their resolve to slay e'ery foe in Sheol.
'Twas on the west side that some actual battles erupted. The Yrch oft managed to mark their foes whilst still hidden and their arrows took a few lives ere they were o'erwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the mortal warriors. Sauron's troops had the advantages of familiarity with the terrain and prior occupation. They were dug in and waiting in ambush, and the Men waged frontal assaults against them so that their victories came with loss. Casualties slowly rose, but building after building was eventually cleared.
The emptying of Sheol would have gone far more slowly and been far more costly for the allies had there been a greater contingent of Sauron's troops present. A decade aforetime, far more Yrch had skulked within the walls, but at the same time that Gorthaur had called the Wainriders to defend his fortress, he had sent most of the Yrch almost five hundred miles west…to Mordor.
There they served 'neath the command of the Nazgûl, in preparation for an offensive campaign against Gondor. The fallen Maia had priorities, and with Arthedain destroyed and Murazor soon to recover, the South Kingdom was ripe for another assault. He would seize territory, sow the seeds of despair amongst the Dúnedain, and if Melkor smiled, perhaps even cripple the diminished House of Anárion. They were no longer what they had once been, and like any Warg smelling weakness, Sauron sensed their vulnerability. The Witch King had driven Prince Eärnur from the battlefield in 1975 wielding 'naught but fear as a weapon, and that in the very hour of the Dúnadan's triumph o'er the Host of Angmar. Soon, Eärnur would be king.
Now the allied armies raged through the fortress and slowly uncovered its hidden ways. They found tunnels and subterranean chambers just as the Ithryn Luin had suspected they would. Of course, there were vast dungeons with galleries for torture, gruesome rooms filled with vats of blood and bins of organs, and in locked cells, even some surviving prisoners. The Mâh-Sakâ left them behind bars and moved forward.
The fighting dragged on without pause through the afternoon. Eager were the Elves and Men. Cowed and opportunistic were the Yrch. For each that held his post in hope of shooting a feast of Man flesh, three fled downwards into the warrens and lairs carved deep in the rock, in hope of remaining undiscovered therein, and to resurface and flee after their enemies had taken their leave.
By nightfall, so many of the allied host had moved within the fortress that the Yrch dared not assail them as they billeted in empty buildings throughout the southwestern precincts. They occupied the gatehouse, the adjacent walls, and the bailey as well. Mortal warriors slept 'neath the watchful eyes of triple their normal count of sentries, but the Elves continued their campaign through the hours of darkness. And when night brought no respite from hostilities on the eastern side of the fortress, the Yrch grew fearful and retreated yet deeper 'neath the ground, or further to the north.
The day length in mid-Urui gave the night fighting Elves an added ten hours for combat. By dawn of 17 Urui, they had advanced to 'nigh the midpoint north-south within Sheol. Maglor and his warriors had cleared their enemies from half the eastern precincts of the fortress, whilst the vast count of mortal warriors had occupied two thirds of the southern precincts on the western side. The commanders deemed their progress encouraging and ordered its continuation.
Now Helluin had entertained no thoughts of resting during the night. Like all Elves, she could see as well by starlight as the Yrch. Fighting within buildings and tunnels was little darker, and in any case, she had her own Light. The dark Noldo was little concerned with emptying all the buildings on the eastern side of the fortress. Nor was she o'erly concerned with slaying 'aught that moved, for she had hundreds of thousands of allies to accomplish that task. Rather, her goals from the first had been the citadel and the temple, and these stood elevated on a low natural platform in the very center of the fortress.
During the hours of darkness, Helluin had cut a path in as straight a line as she could contrive towards the domed roof of the temple and the square column of the tower that stood beside it. Those foes that lurked before her, she slaughtered in silence. Those who might linger to the flanks, she ignored, for they could not threaten what they could not see. So 'twas that with two hours remaining ere dawn, the Noldo looked from a third floor window as the corpses of four Yrch finished bleeding out on the ground floor 'neath her. O'er the roof of the next building to her north rose the dome of the temple. She nodded to herself and then took her leave.
On the first floor above the street, she scrawled her mantra of Im belthant huiniath! on the wall beside the entrance door. O'er the course of the night, repeatedly writing those words in blood had become tiresome. In the Hithaeglir, it had been one thing, done perhaps but once or twice in a day and driven by the intensity of her need to learn of Beinvír's fate, but in Sheol, she had written those words 'nigh two dozen times in the past sixteen hours and the novelty had worn thin. Granted, it served as a signal to her allies and a threat to her foes, but still, she wondered if she had not carried the habit to excess.
Am I becoming obsessive in repeating this as if it were some ritual behavior? She asked herself. Hath it become a 'tic' as was the fluttering of Berúthiel's eyelid? Huh. I shall have to contemplate this further as time allows.
Howe'er, at that time, time did not allow, and she silently entered the last building south of the temple. There was 'naught but silence within and no strong scent of Yrch. As a shadow, she explored the floors one after another and found 'naught of foes. 'Twas deserted.
The building held many rooms of small dimensions, each equipped with a narrow cot, a trunk, a wardrobe, bookcase, writing desk, and chair. Helluin marked the décor of those sleeping chambers, functional and austere, the themes dark, and the accouterments ecclesiastical. The wardrobes held hooded black vestments, and in communal chambers, cabinets of dark wood were filled with gilt goblets, salvers, and ritual knives. Upon tables draped in sable linen were candelabra of gold holding black tapers. In finely crafted boxes were broaches and pendants featuring the all-seeing eye.
I wager 'tis the dormitory of Sauron's clergy, the priests of the temple of the God of Fire. I believe I know a fitting end for such a place, for I know a thing or two of fire.
With a cackle of glee, she heaped 'aught that was flammable on the entrance level and kindled it to flame, watching in satisfaction as the fire spread, consuming furniture, garments, and finally, taking hold on the boards of the walls, ceiling, and floor. She only vacated the premises when the smoke and heat became oppressive.
Now there is a proper offering to the God of Fire, Helluin thought as she watched flames and smoke roiling from the windows as she stood 'cross the avenue that separated it from the temple. Would that I could burn his priests along with their paraphernalia. Ahhh well. Now to see what abides in the temple.
Now the temple of the God of Fire was the architectural centerpiece of Sheol. 'Twas built of black stone, a facing of marble, gabbro, dolerite, or basalt o'er limestone blocks, perhaps. In form, 'twas a circular colonnade backed by a drum wall of thirty fathoms in diameter and fifteen fathoms in height. Each of the twenty columns was set on a twenty-degree radial angle and rose in two stages, the lower of ten fathoms height and the upper of five fathoms, all topped with a circular entablature of three fathoms total height. Each column's shaft depicted a figure impaled, the lower figures sixty feet in height, and the upper figures thirty. Those figures were divided equally 'twixt alternating Atlantides and Caryatids. It seemed that Sauron inflicted suffering on male and female without preference.
Behind the columns, the exterior face of the drum wall was carved with a bas-relief of flames that rose most of its height. It gave the impression that the entire edifice was a bonfire 'round which victims had been executed by impaling.
Above a plain architrave that unified the capitals of the columns was a frieze of two fathoms height upon which was carved a serpent encircling the world. It bore neither wings nor legs, and reminded Helluin of the serpent in the huluppu tree. The serpent's head and tail met facing due south, the tail's tip clenched in the serpent's jaws. Directly 'neath this focal point was the single entrance 'twixt the southernmost pair of columns. As if all were to be made welcome within, the entrance had no doors.
Above the drum wall, but out of sight from street level, was a dome of fifteen fathoms height and thirty fathoms diameter. An oculus of two fathoms diameter occupied its apex through which smoke from the sacrificial offerings escaped. Thus, the entire temple was thirty fathoms in height and thirty fathoms in diameter¹. 'Twas a greatly enlarged version of the temple in Wahat Binya that the Mâh-Sakâ had razed in 1976. These details, Helluin had seen from the encircling ridge through her viewing tube. ¹(These dimensions are just slightly smaller that the Pantheon of Rome, minus its portico.)
Seeing none and sensing none lingering 'nigh, Helluin climbed a set of three broad steps that formed a stylobate, passed 'twixt the southernmost columns, and entered the temple. She immediately felt a growing antipathy.
Scant wonder that none linger hither, she thought, for the human devotees are slain and the Yrch have ne'er been inclined to religious devotions.
Within the temple was a single open space. The floor was paved with more black stone set in a hexagonal pattern. The interior of the drum wall hosted twenty half columns aligned with the twenty columns 'round the exterior. They too were paired, taller 'neath shorter as they climbed to the entablature. Their surfaces were carved to depict the backsides of the impaled figures, whilst the inner face of the drum wall displayed the same bar-relief of rising flames as did its exterior.
In the center was the expected altar of sacrifice. It seemed that the Master of Thralls had not lacked for victims. Rather than the single, charcoal-filled depression with its shackles that she had seen in Wahat Binya, upon Sauron's altar six posts of black iron stood upright, and to each was shackled a skeleton, their flesh long since burnt away. The posts were arranged in a circular depression, a hearth filled with the ashes of previous sacrificial fires, in which the victims were constrained facing outwards.
An unobstructed view of the show for any worshipper regardless of where they stood, Helluin observed, how just and impartial a god Gorthaur is. Of course, he is still a self-aggrandizing bastard of the very first degree.
On the wall opposite the entrance stood a broad dais of many steps upon which was set a colossal statue of the Lord of Lies. 'Twas a representation of him in some fair form from the distant past, seated upon a throne carved in the shape of all Arda and upheld by the minute figures of myriad Men, Elves, and Dwarves.
Hardly subtle, the Noldo thought, observing that in his left hand he held suspended by the neck the limp figure of a king in panoply of Númenor, the regalia accurately depicted and in accord with Helluin's memory of the kings that she had known. Probably Ar-Pharazôn, she guessed, and poor wages for the fool's devotion, to be remembered thus.
On his right hand, Sauron's open palm displayed a heap of Rings, whilst the One Ring adorned his index finger. Out of curiosity, Helluin counted them, and sure enough, there were the Nine, the Seven, and the Three. She marked that the Three had been rendered with admirable detail.
As Annatar, he must have beheld them long ago at the Guild house in Ost-in-Edhil, she realized. After taking a moment to digest the symbolism, she realized that, he deems himself the Lord of Gifts still, the giver of Rings of Power, and as e'er, he revels in his acts of conquest. I reckon he deems the Whelming of Atalantë his greatest achievement. Talk about resting on one's laurels, and that was Eru's doing anyway...
Finally, Helluin stared up at the inside of the dome. O'er centuries of use, the soot from the altar fire had rendered it dark as sable velvet, yet still to be seen were some reliefs, most notably a great pair of hands outstretched, whose palms and fingers encompassed most of the inner surface. From all appearances, they seemed to be materializing out of the black of the Void.
So, he pays obeisance to his master yet, she thought. Surely, the hands belonged to Melkor and at least superficially, Sauron looked to his return. Perish the thought. The Valar are merciful, but not stupid. I have faith that they shall ne'er again release him 'til the Song finds its end.
Now having taken the measure of the temple, Helluin admitted that much as she might wish it otherwise, there was 'naught that she could do as one alone to bring it down. With a sigh, she retraced her steps, and once back in the street, looked to the citadel that stood a short walk away.
'Cross the street, the dormitory of Sauron's priests was still burning merrily and the sight of it brought a smile to her face. Then a moment later, a look of concentration o'ertook it.
She dashed back into the temple and walked a slow and careful circuit 'round the drum wall. In no place did she find any other exit or entrance. She discerned no trap doors or hidden stairways. The altar appeared solid and tapping on it with the hilt of her dagger confirmed that. Finally, she stood upright and heaved a sigh.
If they are regularly burning victims, and t'would seem that many have met such a fate even of late, where then are they storing their fuel? I have found no antechamber, no annex, and no woodbin. I marked not any such supplies 'cross the street.
Just to be sure, she again examined the top of the altar. The six iron posts were encrusted with the burnt scale of adipose, body fat, and other residues. With the tip of her dagger, she sifted amongst the ashes in the circular depression from which the posts arose. She found there a few minute fragments of bones and teeth. The ashes themselves were a bit odd, uniformly pale grey, and nowhere amongst them did she find any unburnt ends of logs, flakes of carbon, or bits of charcoal. Indeed, she found no evidence at all that wood had been used as a fuel.
And what then, if not wood?
In the early Second Age, she had spent time amongst the Avari of Greenwood, and whilst preparing to drive hence the invading Yrch, they had saved all the wood they collected and used an alternative for their fires. They had burnt the hard, brownish-black mudstone¹ found at a few places in the banks of the Forest River. But that fuel had left behind bits of the non-flammable mineral impurities that it invariably contained, and Helluin had seen none in the ashes on the altar. ¹(lignite, is the lowest and most impure, grade of coal. It can be dangerous to store or process, and its burning introduces health hazards.)
The Noldo found her curiosity piqued. More carefully now, she examined the ashes, the depression, and the posts. When she finally tapped on a post with the hilt of her dagger, she clearly heard that 'twas hollow, a thick-walled pipe rather than a solid column of iron. With the blade, she scraped away some of the residue of the burnt body. After a thorough search, she had uncovered a series of small holes encircling the post at different heights, roughly a hand's length apart. She had to admit that she was baffled by that and shook her head, confounded.
Of this, I must enquire of the Ithryn Luin, she finally decided. There is a mystery afoot. I just know it.
When Helluin finally abandoned the temple, she immediately marked that dawn had come. 'Cross the street, the flames had diminished and only a thin cloud of smoke rose from the burning building. She stood still, deep in the shadows cast by the columns of the temple, searching the street and the surrounding buildings for 'aught moving. After spending a patient half-hour, she had seen 'naught, and so with great care she advanced from the temple, keeping to the shadows, moving slowly, and avoiding a regular gait. She crossed the distance 'twixt the temple and the entrance to Sauron's tower without drawing any discernible attention.
Now unlike the temple, the citadel had doors, massive panels of cast bronze upon which reliefs had been sculpted featuring Gorthaur's Temple of Melkor as it had appeared in Armenelos. In the mid-ground, the Tower of Elros and the Citadel of the Kings stood with the Meneltarma rising behind. The background depicted a whelming wave o'ertopping all. The left-hand door was ajar and the antechamber behind it was deserted. If there had been any sentries guarding the entrance, they had fled.
Helluin slipped 'cross the threshold and passed through the antechamber to edge her way into a great hall wherein silent columns frowned down and a lofty ceiling was upheld by massive piers that reinforced the walls. Tall windows of greyish glass that looked sooty pierced the exterior walls in shallow bays set 'twixt the piers, dulling the light of the sunny morn to that of a dim and o'ercast day. From iron hooks driven high up into the walls, wrought iron cages hung on heavy chains, each containing the long dead body of some starved and hapless prisoner. Standing in a deep shadow, the dark Noldo estimated that there were several hundred dangling at various heights 'round the hall.
Love what thou hast done with the décor, Sauron, she thought derisively, 'tis truly a hall fit for a lord of the dead. Soon enough, all thy subjects in this fortress shall be akin to these.
Though she heard 'naught and felt no presence of others, Helluin maintained her stealth as she passed down the length of the hall. Slipping from shadow to shadow, she came to the far end where a dais rose to an imposing height, topped by a throne of black stone, perhaps carved of marble, gabbro, dolerite, or basalt. 'Twas a smaller version of the sculpture she had seen in the temple, save that its seat was empty.
He hath no longer a physical form, so whyfor needs he a throne to hold it? She wondered.
Drawing 'nigh, she marked what appeared to be centuries of dust on the seat and arms of the throne, offering testimony that it had likely hosted none since Gorthaur had gone off to Númenor and lost his body.
One trait he hath not lost is his compulsion for aggrandizement, and I wonder if e'er he sat here as a vapor of evil, even if just to recapture his past glory.
Suddenly the image came upon her of Sauron as a bloated black cloud, a great and foul fart enthroned before the adoring multitude of his Yrch as they filled the hall, kowtowing in obeisance to their master. Helluin was forced to withdraw into the shadow of the throne lest she guffaw aloud.
After mastering her mirth, the Noldo marked the landing of a stairwell through an opening in the wall behind the dais. The stairs led both up and down. She expected many levels of dungeons and prisons underpinned the tower, whilst the stairs leading upward no doubt ascended to the topmost chamber that she and Maglor had amputated with E-ngúrglaw.
Curious now, Helluin slipped into the stairwell and began to climb. The staircase rose by many switchbacks within a dingy shaft that was lit only by a few miserly windows of the same greyish glass that she had seen in the hall. These were located one per side at intervals of perhaps ten fathoms. From memory, she recalled the image of the temple and the tower in the viewing tube and deemed that the tower stood to thrice the height of the temple's dome. T'would be a long climb of ninety fathoms, or o'er half a thousand feet. With a sigh, she put one foot before the other, all the while listening for the slightest sound that would reveal the presence of foes, for she surely had no friends here.
Now her stealthy ascent took the half part of an hour¹, and during that time, she heard 'naught save her own whisper quiet footsteps. Long ere reaching the top, she felt the breeze and rejoiced in the light that shearing off Sauron's chamber had conferred on the darksome stair shaft. ¹(This time is based on the estimated twenty minutes required to ascend the 896 steps to the 500 foot observation deck within the Washington Monument.)
'Naught but the floor and parts of the walls remained of Gorthaur's stone aerie. Helluin walked out into the open sunlight, reveling in its invigorating illumination. She inhaled the fresh air and gave thanks to Manwë, Lord of the Breath of Arda. In her mind's eye, the Noldo saw Taniquetil, the Holy Mountain, and she believed that the Elder King could see her in the high place of his greatest antagonist's chief servant. Then, as a sign to Him and to the allied host encamped 'round Sheol, she abandoned her stealth and blazed with Light, a star flaring atop the Enemy's stronghold and the gateway to the Spheres of Contention.
Far 'cross the Seas and the curved Airs of the Bent World, the great ones in the Uttermost West marked her gift of the Holy Light, rejoicing to receive another measure of what they had lost.
Again, she hath driven Mairon hence, the Lady said, a smile shaping Her lips.
As she shall oft do in days to come, He replied, basking in Her happiness as He e'er had, yet her triumph pales before Thy all conquering smile.
She greeted His words with a heartfelt laugh that scintillated more brightly than all the stars She had kindled long ago.
And brighter still to Me art Thy honeyed words, m'Lord, She said, taking His hand in Hers and interlacing Their fingers.
He glanced down at Their hands and tightened His grip a fraction to convey His love.
We have yet long to wait, have We not, m'Lord, She asked more seriously, knowing what He had foreseen.
Aye, We do, and yet the less with each day that passes, My love. Thy foresight long ago shall redeem Us all.
She nodded to Him in agreement, meeting the celestial blue of His eyes, and said, and her as well.
A great cheer rose from much closer, and Helluin beheld the tiny figures of the host standing outside the walls of the fortress celebrating the sign that their ally had occupied Sauron's tower. To the west, the Mâh-Sakâ paused from their battle with the remaining Yrch and gave a great cheer. Then they fell upon their enemies with renewed vigor and increased hope.
Closer still, Maglor and the companies of the Umanyar closed on the temple and they marked the burnt building 'cross the street. During the night, they had extended the liberated zone northward on the eastern side of the fortress, and now o'er half of the buildings in those precincts had been cleared of foes. The prince of the Noldor reasoned with calm tactical assessment the possible consequences of Helluin's brash display. He would not have claimed 'twas foresight, but rather that he simply had a bad feeling. Yet after his millennia of life and battle, he knew better than to ignore the wisdom of his 'gut', and he sent two companies to the citadel, just in case she was beset by foes upon descending.
Now having marked no hint of opposition when she had entered Sauron's citadel, nor having seen or heard 'aught of enemies during her climb, Helluin descended the staircase with only her usual level of stealth. 'Twas only as she reached the lower switchbacks above the great hall that she smelt the foul scent of Yrch.
So, some still linger 'nigh, she thought, no doubt risen from the underbelly of the tower. So be it, and whether one or one hundred, they shall fall in their appointed time.
From the travel bag slung o'er her shoulder, she withdrew the coif of mithril rings that matched her armor, then with her full stealth, she descended the last of the staircase, and just ere reaching the entrance to the throne room, she set down her travel bag and knocked an arrow on the string of her bow. Slowly and silently, she brought one eye 'round the verge of the opening and took the measure of her foes. Gathered in the hall were a couple hundred Yrch, they being the greater part of those who had fled to subterranean lairs and warrens from the advancing Umanyar on the eastern side of the fortress.
After espying them a while, she had to wonder if ambush was truly their intent, for they shifted and shuffled, bickering and cursing each other in subdued tones 'til cuffed to silence by their captains, and snarling after in response to their chastisement. They had not attempted to conceal themselves. Most of them had not even drawn their weapons, she realized with amazement. Helluin wondered if they expected her to announce her presence ere offering battle.
Perhaps hereafter I should be preceded onto the field by a herald, she thought, recalling High Kings who had employed just such, her friend Elrond Peredhel foremost amongst them. She shook her head at that and then drew up her hood. She marked some shadows moving at the far end of the hall, but 'twas hard to be sure of their count.
Now Helluin waited 'til a particularly bitter contention broke out ere swiftly striding to the dais and mounting the throne. There she sat, swaddled in her tattered black robe, the steel bow in her left hand, and Anguirél laid 'cross her knees. She was astonished that the Yrch continued to threaten and berate each other whilst completely ignoring her. 'Twas simply ludicrous. Indeed, it seemed as if they consciously avoided even looking towards the throne.
Which actually makes sense, she thought, for I doubt Sauron would suffer an Orch to glance into his eyes, e'er demanding their subservience with downcast gaze. I wager 'tis part of their racial memory by now, the training of millennia grown ingrained. By the Valar, I could nap here were I a mortal in need of sleep.
Helluin continued to remain unmoving and silent upon the throne whilst the Yrch continued to bicker in the hall before her and the shadows continued to draw closer. With each moment that passed, her amazement grew and with each passing moment, her patience diminished. Finally, unable to withstand the bizarre charade any longer, the Noldo stood abruptly from the throne.
"Lak ghâshdagulan, krumabri!¹" Helluin demanded in her harshest voice. ¹(Lak ghâshdagulan, krumabri! Bow to fire demon, worms! = Lak(bow) + ghâsh(fire) + dagul(demon) + -an(inf. suff., to) + krumab(worm) + -ri(obj. n. pl. suff.) Orkish)
To Be Continued